Taken: The MISTAKEN Series Complete Third Season (12 page)

T
ap
, tap, tap.

I watched the brown leather shoe rise and fall on the tile floor, and the sound of its tapping was all I could hear. It was like the air had been sucked from the room, turning it into an echo chamber, the sound of the tapping of his shoe the only thing capable of making any noise at all.

I knew he was waiting for me to say something. The tingling in my chest and sudden lightheadedness made it difficult to believe that my father was actually standing in front of me. But there was something else—the fact that he wasn’t surprised to see Brandon shouldn’t have been shocking at all. It wasn’t as though I hadn’t known they had been working together all along. It wasn’t as though his sister hadn’t told me everything—everything she knew, anyway. I had thought it didn’t matter. I had told myself over and over again that the fact that the man who loved me had also betrayed me didn’t mean anything. That what he had done for my father in the past didn’t matter anymore. That one day our love would triumph—it was the story I had told myself over the past nine months. It was one of the only things that kept me going—kept me believing that we would be together again someday.

Brandon slipped his hand into mine, giving it a squeeze. My stomach hardened, but I didn’t pull my hand away. There was something sweet about it—something that almost said that we would get through this mess together.

“I’m glad to see that the rumors of your death weren’t true.”

I could only stare at his shoe, tapping impatiently in front of me. I hoped that the words he was saying were true—that he really
was
happy that I was alive, but from everything I had experienced over the past year or so, I was pretty sure anything kind he might have had to say to me would be insincere.

“You don’t have anything to say for yourself, Jenna?”

I finally lifted my gaze from his tapping foot to look into his eyes. I had always thought I could read my father—we had been close at one time. But I knew that even if I thought I could read him, I didn’t know him at all. I knew that even though the woman who had raised me had finally decided that it wasn’t
me
who was the enemy and had decided once and for all to turn on the man who had betrayed us both, that the little I knew about him only scratched the surface of the things he had done in the past.

“I did what I had to do.” I sucked in a shaky breath. Leaving this life behind had been my only choice. It was the only choice given to me by the people who claimed to be helping me, anyway. And this scene wasn’t one I had pictured ever happening. I had pictured Brandon finding me and whisking me away to some far-off place where no one would ever find us, and I have envisioned it so many times. But facing my father—I hadn’t wanted to even think about the possibility of needing to do that again. It might have been some sort of reverse-wishful thinking, but I had hoped I wouldn’t ever have to face him again. I had planned to live that life forever—the plain life in the rural Maine town where I only
looked
like Jenna Davis. I had thought I had run so far from that reality that I believed I wouldn’t ever have to face it again. Running had seemed like the right option at the time. The only option.

He nodded, turning his gaze to Brandon. “Considering this delivery is about eight months overdue, we may have to renegotiate your compensation.” He glanced at me again before turning back to Brandon. “Not that I’m not happy to have my daughter back.”

“Of course.” Brandon gave my hand another small squeeze, turning to face me.

I looked over at him. There was something in his gaze—something I couldn’t quite read. Something that said things were about to get ugly, but I needed to trust him.

“Where is he?” My father cocked his head, giving Brandon an expectant look. His foot began the incessant tapping again.

Brandon cleared his throat, his brow furrowing slightly before he turned his gaze from mine and back to my father. “He wasn’t there.”

My father’s gaze narrowed. “You guaranteed me. You said—”

The shake of Brandon’s head cut him off. “I never guaranteed anything. I told you I
thought
he would be with her. That he would
most likely
be with her.”

My father’s voice lowered, almost to a growl. “I don’t have time for this.” He turned his gaze to mine before turning it back to Brandon. “
We
don’t have time for this. The election is in four months. You realize that, correct?
Four months
.” He shook his head, his gaze darting between the two of us. “
No time for this
.”

Brandon rolled his eyes.

The show of disrespect caused my father’s gaze to narrow even further. “I’m not about to explain the intricacies of a presidential campaign to you, Brandon. If you can’t understand the pressure I’m under as a third-party candidate…” He let out a long sigh, turning back to me. His gaze and voice softened. “Jenna, you of all people can understand. If you know where he is, you need to tell us. I know I made things difficult for you before the two of you ran off, but I know you understand how important this is to me. How important this is to our
family
. I have a legitimate chance at an upset victory. Having you back will give us a huge advantage with the family voters.” He nodded, a small smile coming to his lips. “You just need to tell me where he is.”

I felt my eyebrows knit together. “Where
who
is? Who is ‘he?’” I had only been standing in that foyer for a few minutes, but it already felt too familiar. It already felt the same as it always had—that I was missing some big piece of the puzzle. That everyone else knew what was going on except for me. It was like the dream everyone has where they show up at school for a test, but they realize they’ve never even been to the class. It was like a big chunk of my life was missing—like I had been in the middle of that weird dream, unable to figure out how I had even come to be there.

My father let out a long sigh. “Daniel.” The way the name hung in the air, I almost expected my father to add the requisite, “Duh,” to the end of the statement.

Duh. Duh, Jenna.
Daniel. His name wasn’t one that had even entered my consciousness in the past nine months. I hadn’t seen him—he never showed up for the stupid press conference that our fathers wanted us to attend, and I had run off to Montana that day with Brandon, anyway.

I shook my head. “Why would I have been with Daniel?”

Brandon squeezed my hand again, harder this time. It almost seemed like a warning, telling me to shut up. He lifted his gaze to mine, a forced smile on his lips. “Because you two left together that day. The day in D.C. You left
together
.”

I was almost sure that my father didn’t hear the barely audible emphasis Brandon had used on the word
together
. I knew that this was what he had been trying to telegraph to me with his gaze—to play along with whatever he said. It certainly didn’t seem like a bad idea—it wasn’t as though I had prepared myself for this confrontation—at least not for it to happen tonight.

I nodded. “Right. We left D.C. together, but I haven’t seen him since that day.”

His hand tightened around mine again, much more gently this time, and the tiny smile that formed on his lips before he turned back to my father was genuine.

Brandon set his jaw. “We’ll find him. There are only a few places he could be if he wasn’t with Jen. And we need to also consider the possibility—”

“We would know if he was dead.” His gaze darted to mine for a split second—almost with a look of regret—before he turned it back to Brandon. “If he was
really
dead.”

I was surprised by the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears. Coupled with my sudden desire to punch the stucco wall next to me, the flash of rage shocked me. I was almost relieved when it passed almost as quickly as it arrived. I’d had plenty of time in the past several months to think about the Daniel Conspiracy, as I had come to call it in my head. It was the one thing that still wasn’t clear to me—the one question I still had about what in the hell all of this was about. I knew about the arranged marriage part of it—I had known about that from the beginning. But how everyone in my life had conspired to fake his death and keep that fact from me still made no sense. And it didn’t seem like anyone was going to be willing to explain it to me any time soon.

I was sure my father saw how my teeth had gritted together at the mention of Daniel. He cocked his head. “Where did you go? Where was the last place you saw him?”

Brandon cleared his throat again. “It’s been a long day. I’m sure Jen wasn’t prepared to have to deal with an inquisition tonight. We can all sit down and figure this out in the morning.”

My father’s gaze narrowed again. He knew. I could see he was aware that something else was going on—that things weren’t as they seemed. “It has been a long day.” He turned his gaze back to mine. “I know you might not believe it, but I
am
happy to see you, Jenna. I honestly have missed you.”

I could only nod in response. There had been a time when those words would have made tears come to my eyes—where I would have legitimately become misty-eyed at the kind words my father was saying. But even though he sounded genuine, I knew nothing could be farther from the truth. My stomach hardened at the truth of the situation. There was nothing genuine or real about Patrick Davis. There was nothing that he missed about me other than having me available as a pawn in whatever game he was playing at the time. It had become abundantly clear to me over the past months that the only reason my father cared at all about me was because of the woman who had given birth to me—because of the increased value that put on my head.

It was still hard to believe that I had lived a quarter of a century with no idea of who I really was. And the truth still made my head spin when I thought about it.

“We should get some sleep.” Brandon nodded, turning back to me. “We should all get some rest. Tomorrow will be a big day.”

My father shook his head. “I’ll have someone show you to one of the guest rooms, Jenna.” His gaze darted back to Brandon, narrowing again. “You’ll understand that I won’t be allowing your … reunion under my roof.”

I raised an eyebrow. “
Your
roof?” I was surprised at the sarcasm in my voice—maybe I really was tired. I couldn’t remember ever speaking to my father like that or insinuating anything about the relationship that he and my mother shared. Or didn’t share.

“Yes,
my
roof, Jenna. It may be known as the Hennessey Compound, but community property laws still make it at least half mine.” He smiled. “
At least
.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. But I could tell by the way he was joking about his relationship—or lack thereof—with Marian that he didn’t know. I could tell that he had no idea that I had spent the first five months of my disappearance at this very compound, under this same roof that he was claiming belonged to him. If he had known, there wouldn’t have been any jokes about it at all.

I pressed my lips together to keep a smile from forming on them. I knew I couldn’t give away that information—not yet. “Where is Marian?”

My father lifted a brow. “When my plane landed, the staff told me she had gone to the main house to go to bed. They said she wasn’t feeling well.”

I nodded. “And you just happened to be headed here? To Maine? Today?” I knew I was playing with fire. I knew that if I said too much, it would give away Marian’s role in my disappearing act.

“I flew here as soon as I heard Brandon had found you.”

I glanced over at Brandon. Something wasn’t adding up. He kept his gaze focused on my father, his hand barely tightening around mine again. I could almost hear him saying the words
trust me
in his slight grasp.

I nodded, turning back to my father. “I see.” I gave Brandon one last glance before letting go of his hand. “I think I would like to go to bed. We can hash this out in the morning. And maybe one of you can tell me then why Daniel would have anything to do with the outcome of a presidential campaign.”

“
F
ollow me
, son.”

I could almost feel the bile rise into my throat at that word—
son
. I couldn’t stand that he had taken to calling me by that term of endearment, and my upper lip twitched as I forced myself not to sneer.

Jen had already disappeared up the stairs, accompanied by what I could only assume was one of the maids that were running around the house. There was almost a sense of panic among the many staff members—people were moving just a little too quickly and were just a little too quiet. Or maybe it was all in my head. It was just as likely that this was how they always behaved when Senator Davis was around. But there just seemed to be
something
—something I couldn’t put my finger on.

I followed him past the formal living room and into a smaller living area that opened into the formal dining room. Calling it a living area was a bit of a joke—everything was so pristine that it didn’t look like the house had ever been lived in. Or used.

He walked over to the bar in the far corner of the room before turning to me. “Still scotch, right? Neat?”

I shook my head. “Club soda is fine.”

He snickered. “Right. I forgot that you had given up the drink.” He turned back to the bar. “I think you can fall off the wagon for one night to help me celebrate the return of my daughter.”

I stood in the center of the room, almost frozen. This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. There wasn’t supposed to be some “celebration” of Jen’s return to her father’s nest. The only celebration was supposed to be our making love on a beach somewhere—somewhere where I was sure he would be unable to find us. Or at least be unable to harm us. It wasn’t the
finding
I had been worried about so much as it was the other bullshit. The threats and the making good on those threats that I knew he was capable of. Capable of handing off to someone
willing
to harm us, anyway. His hands were clean. They always had been and I knew they always would be.

He poured the drinks and walked back to me, placing a glass in my hand. He lifted his tumbler of amber liquid in the air. “To Jenna.”

I lifted my own glass. “To Jenna.” I took a small sip, almost wincing at the burn of the alcohol on my tongue. I hadn’t given up alcohol because I thought I was addicted to it. I had never had any sense that I was an alcoholic or addict of any kind—I just didn’t like the man I became when I drank. I didn’t like that I was almost able to do the things that this man asked me to do if I had enough to drink. Since I had witnessed what had become of Amanda and known that I was drunk enough that day to have done the job her step-brother had been only too happy to finish, I hadn’t touched the stuff. Not even once. What I had told Jen in her broken-down shack had been true—I hadn’t had a drop to drink since I had seen her last.

He motioned for me to sit on one of the leather chairs. I took a seat, grasping the still-full glass tightly in front of me.

He sat down across from me, his smile falling. “Tell me how you found her.”

I nodded, leaning back into my chair. “There was a mention of her by some random girl who was vacationing in Waterville. It seemed as likely a lead as any of the others we’ve seen.”

“Hmm.” He cocked his head, his gaze moving to somewhere behind me. “Waterville. Speaking of random…” He shook his head, pausing for a long moment. “What could she have possibly been doing there? And there was no sign of Daniel?”

I shook my head. After what I had witnessed of her and the kid who seemed a little
too
into her, I knew that Daniel couldn’t have been anywhere nearby. My reaction to that boy had been harsh—I had almost pushed him through a brick wall—and I knew that Daniel wouldn’t have been even close to as kind if he was with Jen. Not that I really believed he had
ever
been with her since she had left the cabin in Montana nine months ago. It was
possible
that she had teamed up with him, and I knew I couldn’t completely dismiss the
possibility
, but it was unlikely. It was just a story that I knew the senator would believe and one that would keep me in his good graces.

“Hmm.” His eyes were almost glazed over, he was so lost in thought.

My stomach churned and my heart began to thump in my chest. I was all too familiar with that look—the glazing over of his eyes usually meant he had something in store for me. Something that would be difficult to do. Something that would be unpalatable for almost anyone else.

He blinked a few times and returned his gaze to mine. “I know I promised you I wouldn’t stand in your way once you brought her back into the fold.” He nodded a few times and glanced down into his drink. “I know that was the agreement.”

“It was.” My body tensed and my teeth gritted together. Any fear of what he might have asked me to do for him was quickly turning to rage as I realized he was about to renege on our deal. I had done so much for him. Too much. Too many things that I knew were going to come back to bite me in the ass. So many disgusting acts that I would never be able to explain to Jen, no matter how much I might have wanted to come clean to her—or to anyone, really. Carrying the guilt of what I had done over the past decade was becoming a very heavy burden to bear. But I disgusted myself—I knew there was no way I wouldn’t disgust Jen if she ever found out the kinds of things I had done for her father. I had always drawn the line at murder—at least until Amanda—but I had never said no to anything else he had asked of me. It was why he trusted me. It was why he was sitting with me now.

He nodded again. “I know how you feel about my daughter, Brandon. And in another life, I would have been happy to call you my son-in-law. But in this life…” He shook his head again, turning his gaze back to his glass. “You can’t give her this life.”

My head started to spin with my racing pulse. I had too much on him—he knew I did. If he changed his mind about me—if he decided that there was no room for me in his or Jen’s life, there was only one alternative. There was only one way for me to be released from the prison that working for him had become. And it wouldn’t be a faked death—it would be a real one.

But I couldn’t let myself think about the possibility of not working for him any longer. I had always had a price, and no matter how outrageous the price I named, if he wanted the job done enough, he met it. Every time. And there had only been one price this time. Only one thing that he could give me that would make the senseless acts I had committed for him worthwhile this time. And he had agreed. He had promised to honor that agreement and let Jen choose. It was the only thing I had asked for—to let
her
decide what kind of life she wanted. To
let her choose me
. I was confident that she would—absolutely sure that if her father took a step back and let
her
choose for once,
she would choose me
.

I tried to cover the shakiness of my breath. “With all due respect, I don’t think she wants this life.”

He smiled, taking a sip of his drink. “Did Jenna ever talk to you about her childhood?”

I shrugged. “A little, I guess.”

He nodded, taking another long sip from the glass before setting it on the table next to him. He clasped his hands together. “I was thinking the other day about her first cotillion. She must have only been nine or ten. The girls are so adorable at that age—dressing up like their mothers, hosting society parties to practice the skills they’ve learned.” He let out a sigh, a small smile coming to his face again. “She could name every piece of flatware on the table. It was impressive.” His lips curled into a full smile. “And the debutante balls when she was a teenager…” He let out another sigh, this one almost nostalgic. “
That
is the life she was brought up to lead.”

“But it isn’t the life she wants now. At least not from what I know about her. And if she changes her mind, I’ll give it to her. I’ll give her anything she wants. She can be a socialite if that’s what she wants—she can go to her charity luncheons and know how to use a shrimp fork. I won’t stop her.” I shook my head, almost in disbelief. “You and I have had this same conversation several times now.” I had to set my drink down on the side table next to me—I was grasping it so hard I knew the glass was going to break if I didn’t. “And we had an agreement.”

“I know.” His gaze moved behind me again and he sat in silence for a long moment before he spoke again. “And we both know I’m not a man who goes back on his word without a good reason. I think we’ve worked together long enough for you to know that about me.”

I nodded, my gaze narrowing. “I have. And I don’t think there is
any
reason that you could have for going back on it this time.”

He lifted a brow, his gaze meeting mine again. “We have a certain bond, don’t you think, Brandon? A certain link between us where you know what I want without my even having to ask?”

I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and felt my shoulders drop. I knew what this was—he was testing me. He wanted to know if I had been double-crossing him, even though I had never done a thing in our long history together to give him any sense that I would. And I hadn’t—I hadn’t had anything to do with Jen’s move to that podunk, piece of shit town where she had almost mocked me by hiding herself in plain sight. I was angry about it and I knew I would have to confront her about it eventually. It just hadn’t seemed right to be angry with her when we were in her little place. Not to stay angry, anyway. There was a part of me that wanted to lash out—wanted to know what in the hell she had been thinking. And who in the hell had been helping her.

And I knew that was what this was—he wanted me to double-cross Jen and find out who was responsible for her disappearance. Because we both knew that she wouldn’t have been capable of doing something like this on her own. I had let her father believe that Daniel must have been responsible, even though I knew it wasn’t true. Daniel wasn’t my problem anymore—and he wasn’t the senator’s problem anymore, either. He just didn’t know it yet. Letting Jen’s father think Daniel had taken her away gave me the best of both worlds—Daniel was out of my hair and it made Senator Davis trust me that much more. And when it came down to it, this was all about trust. Who I could and who I couldn’t trust.

“I need to know.” His gaze narrowed, his lips curling into a scowl. “I need to know who took her—who was responsible for hiding her. How she got away with hiding within two hours of her mother’s compound for so long without anyone saying so much as a peep.” He picked up his glass and took another swig, draining the cup before setting it down again. “And when I find out, there is going to be hell to pay.”

I could only nod in response. Jen had promised to be honest with me—to tell me everything. And I knew I was going to have to get her to tell me everything to have any chance of being with her.