Obsessed: Part Three (The Obsessed Series) (8 page)

"I meant it when I said you should live here." He's clad only in boxers now as he sits on the bed. He lays a plate of fruit and cheese on the sheet and hands me a bottle of sparkling water.

"I'd like to," I reply. It's one of the things I think endlessly about I want to say but I temper my reaction. I still need to confess to Jax that Mark had committed fraud.

"Drink." He tilts the bottle towards my lips. "I want you to finish that and all this."

I laugh at the prospect. "We just had pizza, Jax." I take a small sip of the cold water. "I'm not hungry."

He cocks a brow as if he's questioning my response. "I am." He pops a red grape into his mouth followed by a slice of white cheese.

"Can we talk about something?" I reach to place the bottle of water on the nightstand. I'm feeling so anxious. I don't want him to notice that my hands are now trembling. I'm grateful that he gave me a t-shirt to wear. I know that the conversation we're about to have is going to make me feel emotionally exposed. The shirt helps me to feel some comfort and protection in a sense.

"Anything." He munches on a crisp piece of apple.

I cast my eyes downward as I take a breath to quiet my nerves. "It's about Brooke."
He stops chewing and stares at me. "What about her?" he asks out of the corner of his mouth.

I watch him pick the plate up and reach past me to place it next to the water. He scoots closer to me.

"Why did you make that recording?" It's a neutral place for me to start. I want to understand his true motivations for filming Brooke and for coercing her into playing that voicemail that Mark left her.

"She was out of control." His eyes idly scan the room. "She came to me weeks before that and tried to seduce me."
"Really?" I ask although I'm not surprised. It was the first assumption I'd made after viewing the entire file on the flash drive.

He nods. "She played that voicemail for me to prove that I could trust her," he says as he locks his eyes on my face. "I'm sorry you had to hear that."
"It wasn't shocking." I mean the words. "Mark was very good at hiding his true self."

He reaches for my hand and strokes it with his. "I wanted her to back off. Not from Mark. I didn't care about him at that point. I just wanted her away from the company."

"Because of what she did to your dad?"

His expression shifts slightly to one of concern. "She really fucked up his life. My mother's too. I couldn't watch her ruin the company and it felt like she was going to do that."

"Was she delusional?" I ask because I want to understand what she was really after.

"My father promised her the moon and the stars and half of the company." He waves his hand in the air as if motioning to the sky beyond the ceiling.

"During their affair," I mumble.

"She gave him something. Attention maybe, a sense of love. I don't know what but he needed it and he was willing to give her anything in return."

I lean forward. "Do you think that was just pillow talk?"

He looks into my eyes. I see sadness there now. I know it's difficult for him to talk about his father's weaknesses. "He was never going to give her anything once he found out she was sleeping with Mark too. He told me that when he was dying."

"What did she want from you? Did she really believe you'd be on board to blackmail Mark?"

"Maybe?" he says it without conviction. "Before my dad died she bought an apartment she couldn't afford. He paid her mortgage and when he was gone, that evaporated so she panicked."

"And the recording?" I leave the question open ended on purpose.

"The recording was meant to push her into just disappearing. I thought if I threatened her with it, she'd bolt before Mark saw it. It wasn't the best laid plan but I wanted to corner her. Make her feel the same pressure she made my dad feel."

"Did you ever play it for Mark?"

"I didn't have to." He reaches past me to grab the bottle of water. "My mom took a turn for the worse so I left for California. Once she died I came back and Brooke was gone."

"Did you wonder what happened to her?" I push the subject wanting to know if he has any inkling that Mark paid her off.

"I've always secretly hoped she fell into the Hudson River on one of her morning jogs." He laughs the comment away.

I smile meekly. The idea of that woman falling into the river conjures up images of men with cement shoes in hand and thick Jersey accents who are getting paid in unmarked bills.

"My guess is that she nailed some executive to the wall and he married her."

"Is that an uneducated guess?" I'm wondering exactly what did happen to her now.

"Not entirely," he says. "I heard a woman from payroll talk about Brooke's husband in the lunchroom one day when I stopped to get a coffee."
I breathe a sigh of relief, which I try to conceal with a cough. I know that once I explain to Jax about Mark's corporate maneuverings that Brooke will likely be dragged back into the mess that Intersect Investments is going to become when an investigation is opened.

I walk back into the bedroom after spending at least ten minutes in the washroom splashing cold water on my face. It's time for me to tell Jax about Mark. I'm terrified. Not by the idea of him knowing what Mark was doing behind closed doors but by the fact that it may set in motion a series of events that will impact our relationship for good.

"So there's something I have to tell you." I sit back down on the edge of the bed. I'm wishing I had fully dressed. The things I am about to tell Jax feel too weighty for just a t-shirt and panties.

He pulls me closer to him so my hand is resting on his leg. I love his legs. They're so strong, so imposing. He's everything I ever wanted and needed and now I'm going to change the course of this forever.

"It sounds serious." He tilts his chin down so his eyes align with mine.

I nod and breathe a heavy sigh. "So serious."

"You can tell me anything, beautiful." He brushes his fingers along my chin and I reach for them with my hand. I cradle his hand in mind pushing it into my skin.

"It's about Mark. He came to my apartment."

"When? Why?" His fingers go rigid and the tenderness that is there is erased with irritation.

I relax and his hand falls from my face into his lap. I stare at it before I answer. "I asked him to come see me."

He bolts to his knees. "Why would you do that? What were you thinking?"

His coarse tone rasps against me. His constant hatred of Mark is crushing at times. I feel like I'm tied to the middle of a thick rope in a tug-o-war game. I didn't ask for it. It's not what I wanted.

"Something wasn't making sense to me. I needed Mark to clarify it." I speak calmly. It's the truth. I wanted Mark to explain about the shares and about the timing.

He settles back onto his heels now as if he's a rabid dog who has been pulled back to the prone position by its owner. "What didn't make sense?"

I look down at the bed. I want to choose these next words carefully. "When I watched that recording of you and Brooke for the second time something hit me square in the face."

He scans my face looking for anything that will clarify my words. "What?"

"Y-
you two talked about my shares in Mark's company," I stutter. "About taking them away from me."

He rubs his hand across his brow. "We did."

"I didn't have any shares back then," I say slowly.

His eyes dart up and down my face. I know that look. He's going to question whether I'm being naïve again. "Are you sure? Mark had your proxy then."

"I'm positive," I snap back. "I didn't sign my proxy over to him until after we separated."

He jumps to his feet and steps off the bed. "I think you're mistaken on the timing." He doesn't look at me. His eyes are focused on the floor as he rubs the back of his neck with his left hand.

I stand and walk past him towards the living room. I hear his footsteps following me. I need to find my purse. I reach inside it grabbing onto the folded documents I slipped into it earlier. "I'm not mistaken." I turn and face him.

"What is that?" He nods towards the papers in my hand.

I unfold them and study them briefly. "When Mark made me sign my proxy to him we went to a notary public. He didn't want a lawyer involved. I asked for a copy." I shove the papers into his hands.

He greedily runs his eyes over them, soaking in the signatures, taking in the dates. "These state that Mark gifted those shares to you a little over six months ago." There's a difference in his tone now.

"Yes." I know this is the point in the conversation when I have to tell him about Mark's confession. "He forged my signature on other documents. Documents that gave him my proxy a year or more ago."

His eyes leap to my face. "How do you know this?"

I stare into him. He's shifting. I can see it before me. His ruthlessness is rushing to the surface again. "He told me."

"What? He told you?" He almost laughs in merriment. "Tell me exactly what he said."

I try to pull the conversation with Mark back to the forefront of my mind. I don't know his exact wording. I can't recall every pinpointed detail of what he said. "I'm not sure exactly what he said."

He grabs my arm forcefully and I flinch. "Remember, Ivy. You have to remember."

I try to tear myself from his grasp but his hand is unyielding. "You're hurting me, Jax. Let me go."

"Think about this carefully." He ignores my request. The papers swing past my face. "What did he say to you?" He spits out each word separately the way a person would do if
they were talking to someone who doesn't comprehend the language.

I wrench my arm free. Pain bites through it. "He said that he was worried that I was going to go to the FTC. He forged my name on documents and Brooke helped him."

"Holy fucking shit." He jumps up and down. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

I stand in silence staring at him in all his wanton joy. He's giddy. His eyes scan the documents for a second time.

"What else?" He doesn't raise his eyes from the paper he's focused on. "What else did he say?"

I wince at his words. I don't want to talk about this anymore. I want to go back to the bedroom. I want all of this to be a bad dream.

"Ivy." My name snaps across his lips. "What else?"

I stare at him. He's not the same. The man from the bedroom is gone now. "He said that he paid Brooke off."

He doesn't reply. He's racing down the hallway. I stand in silence hearing only the distant sound of his voice. He's telling someone that he got the golden ticket. I don't know how much time passes. It must be only moments, although it feels like endless hours. I'm still standing exactly where he left me. My hair rumpled, his t-shirt covering my body as he sprints past me, fully clothed and charges out the door.

"Where did you disappear to last night, beautiful?" Jax is standing in the doorway of my apartment. It's now approximately sixteen hours since he left me alone in his living room.

I move to the side so he can walk in. "You were the one who disappeared on me." My words are spiked with resentment. "You just ran away with your golden ticket."

He smoothly slips his suit jacket from his shoulders and thoughtfully folds it before placing it over the back of the chair in my living room. "You heard that," he grimaces.

"I did." I motion for him to sit.

He takes a spot on the couch and I can tell from his posture that he's expecting me to sit next to him. I move towards the chair and perch myself on the arm.

I wait for him to check his phone before I speak again. "So what happens now?"

"You could sit on my lap," he growls patting his slacks.

"With Mark? What happens?" I ignore his innuendo. I don't want to slip into anything intimate with Jax until we discuss what I'm feeling.

He rolls his eyes and the gesture bites into me. This cocky version of Jax isn't nearly as appealing as the man who gave me the necklace or the one who took care of me in the shower. "Why does it matter, Ivy? Don't you dare say you care about what happens to that asshole."

I stare sullenly at him. "I care what happens to me."

"You're fine." There's a definite edge to his voice. "I'll take care of you."

"What about our deal?"

"What deal?" He's focused on his phone again.

"The shares…" My voice falls off as he pulls the phone to his ear.

He raises his index finger as if to stop me from speaking. "Gilbert. Tell me what you know. When will the FTC meet with me?"

I stand and walk towards the bank of windows overlooking the street. I stare down. There are a few people scattered along the sidewalk. I spot a couple holding hands. There's a woman pushing a stroller while a very happy toddler laughs and tries to bat the low hanging leaves off the tress they pass. It's all so simple and so uncomplicated.

"Those papers changed my life, beautiful."

I turn to see him still seated on the couch, his eyes cast downward towards his phone.

"Is our deal on hold now?"

He bursts out laughing. "Of course it is. As soon as the dust settles and Mark is locked up, the company is completely mine."

I don't move from my spot by the windows. I need physical distance from him in this moment. "How long before the dust settles?"

"A year. Maybe more?" He throws it out as more a question than an answer.

"You're really happy, aren't you?" I'm not sure why I want to know that. Or why I need confirmation of it. The wide grin that has been on his face since he waltzed through the door is answer enough.

"Ecstatic." He leaps from his spot on the couch and moves quickly towards me.  "Almost as happy as when I'm inside you."

I feel him slip his hand into my dress. "You're going to fuck me now?"

"I don't have a lot of time." He's pulling at the buttons, exposing my bra. His hands dive to unfasten his belt.

"How thoughtful of you to pencil me in." I push the dress from my shoulders. "Do you want to just fuck me here bent over the windowsill so we don't waste any time walking to the bed?"

He freezes. His hands stop in mid-air. His shirt unbuttoned, his slacks hanging open. "Ivy," he whispers my name.

"You better get started." I bite my lip to hold back a sob. "You need to leave soon."

"What's wrong, beautiful?" His hand grazes me cheek and I pull back.

"I can't do this anymore." I reach to pull my dress back on. "I can't."

"Do what?" he asks, his voice slightly raised.

"I'm so tired." I move away from him now, seeking out the comfort of the chair. I sink into its cushion. I fumble with the buttons on the front of my dress before I give up in frustration.

His legs come into view and I watch as he silently sits on the coffee table. "What's going on?"

I close my eyes. I pull in a deep breath to cage my emotions. "Our relationship is all about Mark."

He shakes his head. "No, that's not true. There's much more to it than that."

"We always come back to him. To how much you hate him."

"He ruined my father's life." He barks the words at me.

"Your father is dead. He wasn’t perfect." I try to find compassion within the words. "No one is perfect."

He slides his hand along his thigh, balling it into a fist when it reaches his knee. "You're going to defend that bastard, aren't you?'

"Who?"

"Mark?" he seethes. "That's what all this is about, isn't it? That's why you wouldn't fuck me just now?"

The irony of his words isn't lost on me and I can't control the laugh that falls out. "Wow."

"Wow?" He stands and rapidly does up the buttons on his shirt, before tucking it in and fastening his belt.

"You always go back to Mark. Always." I pull in a deep breath and exhale slowly.

"No, you do that." He throws my words back in my face.

"It will always be like this." I hang my head.

"Like what?" he asks absentmindedly, his focus pulled back once again to his smartphone.

I don't reply. I sit in silence waiting to see when he'll notice. Several moments pass as he taps out what seems to be an email on his phone.

"Where were we?" He reaches behind me for his jacket and pulls it back on.

"You were leaving." I stand and motion towards the door. "Goodbye, Jax. Let me know when the dust settles."

He stops and stares into my face. I can see countless questions bouncing in his eyes but he doesn't open his mouth to speak. He just follows my suggestion to the door, opens it and slips through.