Because I wanted it to be us.
A happy ending in a never after.
Knocking on his door, my stomach heaved, making me nauseous. The feeling came out of nowhere and I hated it. Anxiety did different things to different people.
Sometimes it was a headache, other times it was acid, bile, and nausea. Facing him after his attack was like putting myself in a pit of snakes, hoping none were going to attack me.
Brandon might have seemed like the perfect man, but he had snakeskin under the suits of lies, and I’d forever hate how I misjudged him.
“Coming!”
His voice had me shaking. Fuck. I didn’t think the trauma would affect me this much., My therapist said it would come and go, but she didn’t specify how hard it’d be hearing the voice of the man who almost took my choices away from me.
Brandon opened the door, and his face settled into one of hope. That needed to leave his face. That expression wasn’t allowed, and he better wipe it away before I punched his face, erasing it from him.
“Andy,” he mumbled, his face not stoic as usual. If I learned anything about men who got everything they wanted, it was that they were willing to seem fragile for a woman’s kindness.
He wouldn’t get any from me.
“I’m not here for anything other than to tell you goodbye,” I said with finality. I was surprised at the strength of my voice, realizing the only way it sounded like that was because I thought of Madden and how he wouldn’t want Brandon to touch me or be near me.
“Here’s your stuff,” I explained, handing him the box of randoms. “Here’s your ring.” Taking the ring from my pocket, I placed it on top of the box he now held. “While I don’t like you right now, I do hope you find happiness and are able to be kinder to women.”
He blinked at me several times, no words leaving his mouth. “I can’t decide if I’m testifying against you or not. Either way, you lose your license.”
The way his eyes closed in defeat let me know that the state would want his blood. He was a pillar in the community, but he also could be used to make an example of. I knew one of the sitting judges in Brightmore, and she’d eat him alive.
“Goodbye,” I said finally, turning away. I didn’t utter his name. He didn’t get that much from me. It felt liberating turning away from him. He didn’t chase, argue, or say anything, and somehow, that felt right. He shouldn’t get a word in. He stole my voice and screams when he took my oxygen away. Now, it was my turn to force his silence.
“I need a meeting,” I said as soon as Donnie answered when I called his phone. He stuttered a bit when he was interrupted.
“Tomorrow?”
“No, now. To discuss Windowless Skies.”
But in reality, that was the least important topic. Instead, I wanted to confront him about what I’d been thinking for years, just to see his reaction.
His face would tell me everything I needed to know.
Chapter Fifty
A Song About Myself – The Plot in You
Andy
I arrived at Vertigo Records within the hour. Knowing I’d be seeing Donnie, I put on a fake face, pretending this wasn’t setting off all my past ghosts.
He seemed so secure in his big office that he stole from Dox. He appeared like he had it all and it was a perfect time to take it away. Celine would be home, no doubt. Since she and Dox had an affair, she kept herself locked away. Like Rapunzel in a tower, she suffered alone with her drugs and booze. It was her who told me everything I needed to know.
I didn’t knock or buzz when arriving. Technically, I had no shares in this company, only Madden did, but he wouldn’t mind me walking in as if I did.
I was a lawyer; I could bluff better than a poker player.
“Andy,” Donnie called out, his face so much different than the man I always confided in. Growing up, when Dox wasn’t around, Donnie was. He doted on me, far too much for my brother’s liking, but it was different seeing it through adult eyes.
He was handsome, it was something I both hated and loved. In his day, he got all the ladies, but only had eyes for Celine. He loved her endlessly and her betrayal with Dox fucked their partnership up.
Celine was obsessed with Dox. Even after marrying his best friend, she still pushed herself on him. It seemed subtle from the outside, but as with every obsessed person and their target of obsession, they’d do anything.
Even fuck everything up.
“Don,” I called out, shortening his name. “Can we chat somewhere private?” He smiled at me, his scarred cheek indenting with it.
If you asked me years ago if I loved Donnie like a father, I’d say yes. He was not only Madden’s godfather, but he was also mine.
“In here, kid,” he motioned, trying to insert familiarity. I didn’t argue, because making others comfortable in their own space gave me the upper hand, not the other way around. He might feel powerful here in this small space where he controlled things, but in reality, I had him where I wanted him. I only needed confirmation.
I sat as soon as he did, watching as he dissected me—or at least tried to. The confusion he must feel at my sudden arrival. Unlike Madden, I didn’t let my discomfort show in my expression toward him over the years; he’d learn soon I hadn’t been on his side for a while now.
“What brings you here?” His eyes roamed over me, trying to find something. I offered nothing, wanting only truths.
“Couple questions and just to catch up,” I explained, softening my tone to match one of a child. He liked being needed, being the father figure. It was a shame he never had children, not that he should.
“Oh, then by all means,” he answered cheerily, but beneath the veneer sat a liar and he was willing to strike while anyone was down.
“I was speaking with Madden,” I lied, forming the story in my mind. “He wanted me to discuss selling his shares.”
Donnie sat up immediately, his spine erecting like a fucking stiff board. He eyed me more egregiously, his eyes acting as a conduit of what he wanted.
He was a snake. Much like Brandon, he kept all his features schooled, like he knew when to show and when to hide. Right now, he hid in the bushes, waiting to strike.
He didn’t want to come off too eager, but he lost that when he sat up straighter, giving me his full attention.
“And?” he prodded, again telling me how unnerved he was to have full ownership. A washed-up rocker with the need for more money and fame. He never was a running man, just the side piece, and it only continued to stay that way as he was forced to do reunion tours and they weren’t packed. They wanted Dox, not Don. Dox.
“Well, he just wanted to know if you had any information on the pilot that flew Dox and Harley that night.”
He flinched. Subtly, but it was still present. Probably thinking he hid it well, he swallowed and softened his features, like a man telling his bastard child he loved them more than the kids at home.
“Justin Pinot was a good man,” he explained, his eyebrows dipping to appear caring and saddened. But as someone who studied faces often, I saw the micro-contempt on his face, laden with the pride of winning. He didn’t hide as well as he thought. Not to me. “He had recently graduated flight school, and unfortunately, he hadn’t flown enough.”