The Blame Game_A Brook Brothers Novel Page 11
Chapter Thirteen
Indie crept out of bed, the sound of Jax softly snoring giving her the chance to escape as she’d planned. Sure, he’d be pissed when he woke in the morning, and she wouldn’t be able to avoid the subject of her relationship with her brother for long. But after their marathon sex session, her brain was frazzled, and if he started asking about Phil when she was feeling so emotional, she was at risk of sharing more than she should.
She picked up her clothes off the floor and inched across the room. As she opened the door, light streamed in from the living room, and she froze. A glance over her shoulder showed Jax’s chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Good. Still asleep.
With a quiet click, she closed the door behind her. As fast as she could, she dragged on her skirt, pulled her sweater over her head, and shrugged into her coat. She paused to make sure Jax hadn’t heard her getting ready to leave. When nothing but silence greeted her, she tiptoed upstairs.
Picking her way carefully down the hall, she drew back the bolt on the heavy front door, wincing when it made a grinding noise. She paused once more and peeked behind her. Phew. It looked like she’d gotten away with it. She eased the key in the lock, cursing the fact she’d have to leave the door unlocked, but what other option did she have? Praying the door wouldn’t creak, she slowly opened it.
“Going somewhere, Indie?”
“Shit!” She leaped out of her skin and spun around. Jax was leaning against the doorframe that led downstairs to his personal quarters, a pair of low-slung jeans gracing his lean hips. “Jesus, Jax, you scared the crap out of me.”
He shifted his weight, and crossed his arms over his chest. “I knew you’d run.”
She shook her head. “I’m not running. It’s late… I mean early. And I have to get ready for work. I’ve got a busy day ahead.”
Jax gave her a slow smile. “It’s four in the morning. I know you’re committed to your job, but not even you are crazy enough to show up at the office before six. That gives us two hours to have our chat.”
“Can’t we do this tomorrow evening instead?”
He shook his head. “I told you what was happening. You got to pick the order of events.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t expect option two to take hours.”
He looked her up and down, his gaze salacious and hot. “It’s not my fault you’re irresistible.” He held out his hand. “I’ll put some coffee on.”
Indie let out a defeated sigh. She closed the door, relocked it and slipped the bolt back into its housing. The damn thing didn’t make a noise this time. Like a dead man walking, she trudged back down the hall. He captured her hand in his and led her downstairs. Five minutes later, with a cup of hot java on the table in front of her and Jax sitting to her left, she faced her fate.
“What do you want to know?”
“Does he abuse you often?”
Her eyes widened. Talk about launching straight in. “Phil doesn’t abuse me.”
Jax cocked a head at her wrist. “Oh yeah? What would you call it?”
“It was a misunderstanding, that’s all.”
Jax pushed up the sleeve of her sweater, his thumb gently caressing the damaged and bruised skin. “Misunderstandings don’t result in marks like that, Indie. In fact, by defending such action, you’re behaving exactly like someone who is abused.”
She stiffened her spine. “What would you know about it?”
He began tracing circles over her wrist, the gentle touch making tears prick behind her eyes.
“Don’t get defensive. I’m worried is all.”
She bit the side of her cheek. “It’s complicated. Our relationship, I mean.”
“How many times has he done things like this?”
“A few. It’s nothing.”
Jax made a frustrated noise. “Fucking hell, Indie. It’s not nothing. Don’t you see?”
Her chin dropped to her chest. “Please leave it.”
His knuckles grazed her cheek. “I can talk to Cole and ask him what your options are.”
She shoved his hand away. “No! For God’s sake, Jax. You barely know me. Phil is my brother, and I love him. He’s far from perfect, but show me someone who is.”
She looked away because she couldn’t bear to see his reaction to her outburst. Seconds scraped by, the silence between them deeply uncomfortable. Eventually, she risked a peek. Jax’s jaw was clenched tight, a nerve pulsed in his cheek, and his skin was slightly flushed.
“He’s been doing this to you for a long time, hasn’t he? That’s why, to you, it’s completely normal.”
Her eyes filled with tears as memories of her dad, of Phil, of her shitty life caused by the father of the man before her became too painful to bear. Despite her furious blinking, tears spilled down her cheeks.
“Oh, Indie.”
As Jax went to dry her tears, she knocked his hand away once more. “You know nothing. Nothing!”
“Then tell me. Talk to me. Let me help you.”
She scrambled to her feet, reaching blindly for her coat. “You can’t help me. No one can.”
She took off upstairs. Her fingers fumbled with the lock, but she managed to get the heavy door open. Jax reached the top of the stairs just as she spilled onto the street. He darted after her then let out a howl. She came to a halt and glanced over her shoulder, concerned in case he’d fallen. She found him rubbing the soles of his bare feet. He must have stood on a stone or something similarly painful.
“Are you okay?”
“Please wait until I’ve put on shoes,” he said.
She shook her head and took off sprinting.
“Indie,” she heard him shout as she ran away from the man who, if she let him, would be her undoing.
She stopped running when she was certain he wasn’t following. Her lungs burned, and her throat was painfully dry. Silent tears streamed down her face. Last night had been wonderful, magical, one of the best nights of her life, but the morning had brought her real life crashing around her ears. She should have stayed cool or even made up a lie, because all her reaction had done was make him even more curious.
When she reached home, she slammed the door to her apartment and secured it, both putting on the chain and twisting the deadbolt. She didn’t expect Jax to follow her after her spectacular performance, but somehow, taking back that tiny piece of control began to calm her down.
As she crossed the room, everything from the previous few hours caught up with her. With trembling knees, she sank onto the sofa. When her tears came this time, they were loud, wracking sobs that tore from her throat and caused a pain in her chest so sharp it felt like a knife through her heart. The release of the kind of heart-wrenching emotion she’d never been able to show growing up made her feel free, even if, in reality, she was as trapped as a caged bird. When she was finally spent, she curled her knees into her chest and fell into a fitful sleep.
She woke with a start, her ears straining before she realized it was the patter of rain on the windowpane. She rose stiffly to her feet, drifted over to the window, and peeked through the drapes. Outside, it was still dark, and as she glanced at her watch, she breathed a sigh of relief. Not yet seven. Plenty of time to get to work.
Her eyes were stinging from lack of sleep, and her makeup was smudged from all the crying. She took a quick shower and cleaned the mess off her face. After pulling a calf-length gray woolen dress over her head, she tied her hair into a messy bun, dabbed on a touch of lipstick, flicked mascara over her lashes, and headed out the door.
She normally walked to work, but when she got downstairs, the rain had significantly worsened. She darted underneath the awning of the restaurant next door to her building and held her hand out for a cab. As luck would have it, she only had to wait a couple of minutes. She dashed for the back door and gave the driver her office address.
She was at her desk by quarter to eight. She checked her appointments for the day and prioritized her workload. Then Pam walked in with a ver
y welcome cup of coffee.
“Wow, Indie, are you okay? You look terrible.”
Indie gave her a wan smile. “You sure know how to make a girl feel better.”
“I’m serious,” she scolded. “You really don’t look well. Why don’t you go home?”
Because I’ll have nothing to think about other than the mess I’ve made of everything. No thanks.
“It’s fine. I didn’t sleep very well, that’s all. The rain kept me up.”
Pam nodded sagely and appeared satisfied with Indie’s shallow explanation. “Tell me about it. I thought the windows were going to shatter. Well, don’t you worry, sweetie. I’ll keep your coffee well filled.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Indie called after Pam.
“I know. I’m marvelous,” Pam said, chuckling as she clicked Indie’s office door closed behind her.
Indie gave her face a quick rub, took a deep breath, and set about working on a difficult proposal for one of the firm’s top clients. In minutes, all her other worries were pushed to the back of her mind as she struggled to wade through the minefield of trusts, tax laws, and financial transactions.
It was after one when she looked up from her computer screen. The rain had finally stopped, and as her stomach rumbled, she decided to pop across the street to her favorite deli. They made an amazing pastrami on rye with a secret mustard recipe that Amar, the owner, refused to give her. He would grin and tap his nose every time she begged him to share his secret.
She had to wait a couple of minutes for a gap in the never-ending traffic. Once a space opened up, she jogged across the street and joined the back of the line. When her turn came, she shared the standard joke with Amar, grabbed her sandwich and a bottle of water, and set off back for her office.
As she stood at the side of the road, waiting for the traffic to clear, her pulse jolted. Jax was standing to the side of the automatic doors, his collar pulled up and his cheeks flushed from the keen wind. Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest. He looked so beautiful standing there, his hair ruffled by the breeze, stubble gracing his chin. He was blowing on his hands as he craned his neck up toward her floor. He hesitated then went inside.
Indie’s breath caught in her throat as she stared after Jax’s retreating form. What should she do? Pretend she was sick and go home? Face him? She couldn’t avoid him forever. Phil wouldn’t let her. She had no choice.
Distracted, she stepped into the road without paying attention. A taxi driver leaned on his horn, making her jump back. Shit. She hadn’t even seen the car. On the second attempt, she looked left and right before sprinting across the street.
By the time she walked into the entranceway of her building, Jax was nowhere to be seen. He must have already gone up to her office. She took the stairs instead of the elevator—a useless delaying tactic, but she couldn’t help herself. As she walked down the corridor, her heels clipping on the marble floor, Pam looked up from her desk.
“You’ve got a visitor,” she said, cocking her head toward Indie’s closed office door. “Your man is in there.”
“I guessed he would be. I saw him from across the street.”
“You don’t look very happy about it. Want me to get rid of him?”
Indie shook her head. “I’ve got it. But thank you.” She gripped the door handle, sucked in a steadying breath, and straightened her shoulders before walking inside.
Jax was sitting in her visitor’s chair, his ankle crossed over his knee, playing on his phone. He looked up, his expression impassive, his gaze shuttered.
“Hi,” she said casually as she walked around her desk and put down her sandwich and water. “What are you doing here?”
He slipped his cell into the inside pocket of his jacket. “I came to apologize.”
Indie’s eyes widened. She hadn’t expected that. “For what?”
He shuffled his chair forward and placed his hands flat on the desk, one resting on top of the other as she pulled out her chair and sat down. He leaned toward her, and like a magnet drawing her in, she mirrored his posture.
“I pushed you too hard last night. I’m still worried about you, and in my opinion, your brother deserves a fucking good beating, but I, above all, understand your loyalty toward family.”
Indie unwrapped the paper from her sandwich and took a bite. “Have you eaten?”
Jax gave her a faint smile. “No.”
She pushed half the sandwich across to him. “Amar makes them too big, so I usually throw half away. You might as well have it.”
“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” He took a bite, followed by, “Oh my God. This is fantastic.”
She grinned. “I know, right? And yes, you’re forgiven… on one condition.” Here was her opportunity, and whether right or wrong, she was going to take it.
“What’s that?” he said, tearing off another hunk.
“Leave it. The Phil thing. I know you think I’m some weak little female, but I can handle my brother. I’ve been doing it for years.”
And I really need you to drop this line of questioning, because every time you go there, I want to burst into tears and spill the whole sorry mess.
“I don’t think you’re weak. I think you’re a loyal and devoted sister, if a bit misguided.”
She gave him a stern look. “So you’ll drop it?”
He nodded. “But I have a condition of my own.” He took another bite out of the sandwich.
She held her breath as she waited for him to finish.
He wiped his hands on a napkin. “If he hurts you again, you’ll come to me. Agreed?”
Not a chance in hell. “Yes, agreed.”
“I mean it, Indie.”
She gave him an innocent stare. “I know. I said I will, and I will.”
He narrowed his gaze and nodded. “I should let you go now.” He went to leave then paused and turned back around. “I think we deserve some fun. Are you up for it?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Up for what, exactly?”
He stroked his chin, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You’ll have to wait and see. I’ll be waiting outside at six.”
* * *
Indie laughed when she saw Jax’s idea of fun. “Ice skating?” she said as he led her over to the rental booth.
“Have you ever done it?”
She nodded. “Years ago, though, when I was a lot younger—and more agile.”
“Bullshit,” he scoffed. “It’s like riding a bike. You never forget.”
“Don’t bet on it.”
“Then you can hang onto me.” He waggled his eyebrows. “If we go down, we go down together.”
“Sounds like fun,” she said, fluttering her eyes at him in an overexaggerated way and laughing.
He leaned in and whispered, “Good, because that comes after the ice skating.”
Indie’s stomach vaulted, and she dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands to distract herself from the growing ache at her core.
“We used to come here with Mom,” Jax continued, oblivious to her aroused state. “Me, Calum, and Cole. Nate was too young. He used to stay home with Dad. This place has happy memories for me, so I wanted to share it with you.”
She squeezed his arm and stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”
They sat down to pull on their skates, and Jax put their things in a locker before taking her hand and leading her onto the ice. Skating in New York in winter was almost a religion, and the rink was full.
She was wobbly at first but soon found her ice legs, and within fifteen minutes, they were sweeping across the rink, giggling like a pair of kids as they watched people taking tumbles around them.
“This is the most fun I’ve had in a long while,” she said, getting cocky as she started skating backward.
Jax slipped his arms around her waist and skated to the side. “Including last night?” he murmured in her ear. “That’s messed up. I’d better up my game.”
He kissed her before
she could answer. She was vaguely aware of a couple of passing skaters whooping, and she wasn’t sure whether it was just high jinks or whether they were mocking her and Jax’s public display.
As he drew back, her leg slipped to the side and she lost her balance. She landed on her ass with a bump. She must have looked indignant, because Jax creased up with laughter.
“Hey!” She held out her hand. “Help me up.”
As he took her hand, she yanked hard. His legs went out from underneath him, and he crashed to the ice. Her peals of laughter could surely be heard on the other side of Central Park. Ignoring the cold, she rolled onto her side, her arms curving around her stomach as she continued to laugh. God, it felt good to laugh so freely.
“You are in so much trouble.” His eyes crinkled at the sides as he tried—and failed—to keep a straight face.
She scrambled to her feet. “Only if you catch me.”
She pushed off, but her skating skills were no match for Jax. He caught her easily, his arms snaking around her waist as he pulled her to him. “Caught.” He brushed the tip of his nose down hers. “Now, what shall your punishment be?”
She wriggled, which made him tighten his hold.
“Ah, got it. No cream in your hot chocolate.”
She pouted. “Not fair.”
He chuckled and planted a hard kiss against her cold lips. “Had enough?”
“Yes.”
“Great. Let’s go.”
As they skated to the entrance, her gloved hand tucked inside his, Indie allowed herself to believe in the fantasy. Just for a minute or two, she pretended this was a real relationship. She and Jax didn’t have this terrible history. She’d simply met him the way any girl would meet a guy—maybe at the movie theater or at a bar on a girls’ night out. And they had their whole lives to look forward to.
Of course, reality always won out, and Indie’s reality brought her crashing back to earth when she caught sight of a familiar figure: Phil. He was standing on the far side of the ice rink, his eyes narrowing as he watched her. She gave a brief shake of her head, risked a glance at Jax and, once she was satisfied he wasn’t looking her way, gestured to Phil to leave. The last thing she needed was for Jax to spot her brother and cause a scene, as she had no doubt he would. He’d been too vociferous in his anger toward her only living relative. And something told her that Phil would come off far worse in an altercation.