She straightens out and sniffles.
I quickly lead her out to the car, and the three of us get in.
“Mom, are you okay?” Quinn asks, and tears trickle down her cheek.
They embrace.
“I’m fine,” my mom says.
My phone rings. New rage cyclones in my blood. “It’s him,” I seethe.
My mother nervously stares at the phone.
I send it to voice mail. The car pulls out of the parking lot.
He calls several more times, but each time I don’t answer.
“Give me the phone,” my mother says.
“No.”
“Steven—”
“You haven’t even been out of jail for ten minutes.”
“Your father won’t stop until I talk to him.”
“Stop calling him our father,” Quinn cries out.
Silence fills the air. All I can wonder is if Quinn is right. Is my mother going to run back to him and be in his bed tonight, only hours after he put her in jail?
“If you go back to him—”
“I’m not going back to him. But he needs to stop. He won’t stop until I—”
The phone rings again, and my mother reaches for it, but I turn it off.
“Steven, you don’t know what you’re doing. This won’t help matters. I know him and how he is. He’s relentless and—”
Quinn’s phone rings. “Are you kidding me?”
“I told you. He isn’t going to stop until he speaks with me.”
“Too bad. Let him panic.” Quinn turns off her phone, too.
“You shouldn’t talk to him right now,” Claire advises her.
Jamison’s rings next.
“Give me the phone,” my mother insists, her voice becomes louder, and anger flies into her eyes.
“Turn it off,” I bark.
Jamison doesn’t hesitate.
“You’re all going to make this a thousand times worse.”
“Really, Mom? Are you going to be in his bed tonight, too?” I snap.
My mom reaches out and slaps me hard. The sting of her hand crawls up my cheek. My skin burns, but it’s nothing compared to the hatred burning inside me for Maximillion.
The car becomes so silent, you could hear a pin drop.
Her eyes fill with tears. “Do you think this is easy for me? The man I love, who I’ve given my life to, set me up and threw me in jail.”
“He called me to tell me you’d be in his bed tonight,” I seethe.
She looks out the window and, for the remainder of the ride, stays silent.
No one else speaks. Quinn and I exchange several glances. Claire sits with her hand on my mom’s thigh. Harper holds my hand, and Jamison holds Quinn’s.
When we pull up to the building, my mother quietly says, “I told you he wouldn’t stop. You should have let me speak with him.” She opens the door and steps out before we can stop her. I open the door to follow her, but I have to wait for the traffic to pass to open my door. By the time I get out, she’s already in a car with Maximillion, and they take off.
“Damn it,” I scream.
“How...how could she go with him? After what he did to her,” Quinn asks.
“We don’t know what she’s going to do. Give her the benefit of the doubt. From the conversations we’ve had, I don’t believe she will stay with him or let him manipulate her anymore,” Claire insists.
But the story of our life doesn’t lie. And history often repeats itself.
28
Harper
Beth is like watching a building implode. She doesn’t seem to have any willpower when it comes to resisting Maximillion. And her children suffer for it.
For hours, we stew at Jamison’s, waiting for Claire’s FBI contact, Agent Creedie, to show up.
Anna brings Hope back to the house. The four of us women focus on the baby, but even Hope doesn’t ease the tension in the air.
Steven paces. And I want to help him, but I’m not sure how. He tries several times to call Maximillion since Beth doesn’t have her phone on her, but he gets sent to voice mail. I’m not sure what his plan is if he gets her on the phone, but he keeps trying and gets more upset with every unanswered call.
At four p.m., Agent Creedie arrives. He’s dressed in a black suit and has combed-back, salt-and-pepper hair. Jamison leads him into the house.
“Thanks for coming out so quickly,” Claire says, shaking his hand.
He smiles. “I’m glad you called me. You know I’ll always help you.” A faint blush appears on his cheeks.
Jeez. Ethan was right. He does have puppy dog eyes.
Claire introduces him to everyone, and we all go into the family room.
Creedie pulls out two cuff links. “These have a recording device. All you do is put them on like normal then push them to activate. You’ll feel a little buzz when it turns on. I advise you to do it before you go into the room with him.”
Steven holds the cuff links in his palm and studies them. “What if—”
“What the hell,” Jamison says.
All our cells buzz.
They alert us again.
When I pick mine up, alerts from every major news outlet pop up faster than I can open them.
“Turn on the TV,” Quinn cries out.
Jamison pushes the remote, and the news anchor has the governor’s YouTube channel up. Both Maximillion and Beth are on it.
“You know I’ll always take care of you,” Maximillion tells Beth, standing behind her, and holding her chin.
Her eyes close, and the pain is all over her face.
Steven stands and steps toward the TV. “What the hell?”
“Move, Steven,” Quinn demands.
He steps aside, and I move near him and hold his arm with one hand and put my other around his waist.
“You set me up. I... I’ve given you my life, and you had me thrown in jail,” Beth accuses, and a tear falls down her cheek.
“Listen to me. It was a means to an end. Everything I’m doing is for us. You know I would never let you go to prison.”
She spins. “They arrested me in front of my children. I was handcuffed and spent two nights in a cell.”
He holds her head. “And now you’re here.”
“No thanks to you,” she cries out.
“Who do you think made sure the judge cleared the courtroom? Hmm? I did that. As soon as your bail was paid, you were released. I did that, too. You should never have worried. I control everyone in this state. You should know me better by now, Beth.”
“Know you better? You had me arrested,” she yells.
“It was necessary.”
“Why? Tell me.”
“He’s coming to work for me. I told you to get him to agree.”
“I asked you to stay away from him.”
“And I told you his skills are required.”
“Steven has nothing to do with you. Find someone else to run your financial campaign.”
“You know I can’t.”
“Why?”
Maximillion snorts. He walks over to the minibar, picks up a glass, pours three fingers of brown liquid in it, then drinks.
“Tell me why you felt my son was so important for your campaign, you had me thrown in jail,” Beth cries out, her eyes full of anger.