Taken: The MISTAKEN Series Complete Third Season (13 page)

“
H
ey
.”

I turned away from the window and watched as Brandon slipped without a sound through the door of the bedroom, closing it behind him. He stood there near the door, gazing at me with a look of longing that made my heart flutter in my chest.

I smiled, pulling my legs up to my chest and leaning myself back against the wall of the window seat. “Hey.”

He crossed the large room and sat down on the edge of the bed near where I was sitting. We sat there in silence for a long moment, his blue eyes boring into mine, almost as though he was trying to read my thoughts. He raked a hand through his black curls. “So that was a little awkward downstairs.”

I nodded, the smile falling from my face. I turned back to the window. The stars in the inky black sky did little to illuminate the ocean that I knew this window faced. I had spent many days and nights here, staring out across the water from this very seat. All those months, I sat here wondering what it would be like when Brandon and I were finally together again. And in not one of those many wishful dreams did being with him again include my father’s presence in our lives or the knowledge that Brandon had only found me at my father’s request.

“I didn’t want to say anything down there, but didn’t Cade say something about your
mother
wanting to see us? Or to see you? Or maybe just me?”

I turned back to glance at him, meeting his gaze. There was something there in his eyes again—the same something I had seen when we had first walked in and it had been my father who had met us at the door instead of the person I had expected. Not that Marian would have answered a door—I doubted that had ever happened in her life. She had
people
for that. This compound was the epitome of everything I hated about the life I had been brought up in—the servants who did everything for me. The disgusting grandeur of it all. When I thought about how I had lived the past several months—how my earnings from the gift shop were enough to barely feed me and pay my rent—I couldn’t help but feel guilty for having lived this life for so long. And not really for just living this life—for being so absolutely oblivious to the fact that most people
didn’t
live this way. That the vast majority of people were a hell of a lot more like the Becky-me than the Jenna-me.

But I knew that wasn’t what Brandon was here to discuss. We had danced around that particular subject before—the whole thing about me being the product of two infamous families. But that was before—before I found out that Marian Hennessey wasn’t really my mother and that my father had never been faithful to her. And Brandon didn’t know anything about what my childhood had been like. My father loved to paint the memories of my past with some magical brush that made him remember only what he wanted to. He seemed to always forget that I was raised by nannies and when my parents
were
around, my “mother” was anything but motherly.

None of that mattered, though—not now. I wished I could understand what it was in his eyes that I was seeing—it didn’t seem like jealousy. It also didn’t seem like inferiority—Brandon had never struck me as the type to feel inferior to
anyone
, anyway, but that could have had something to do with it. Most people had never seen this famous compound—the one where my grandmother had come to live after her husband had been assassinated. The aerial photos that everyone was so familiar with didn’t really do this place justice, and I remembered how I had felt when I had seen it for the first time as a teenager. The main house made our family’s house in Virginia look like the gardener’s cottage I had lived in for the past few months, even though that Virginia house was quite a bit larger than the carriage house we were in now. That had to be it—he was just overwhelmed with it all. Maybe it was that he finally knew what he was getting himself into by being with me, not that I wanted anything to do with this life anymore. The only reason I hadn’t resisted leaving Waterville with him was because Brandon needed to understand why I was here in Maine in the first place. And there wasn’t anyone better to do the explaining than the woman who had pretended to be my mother all these years.

I finally nodded. “Yes. Marian would have been the person Bob notified if he recognized you.”

His brow furrowed with confusion. “Bob?”

I cocked my head, pulling my knees even closer to my chest. “The guy in the gift shop. My boss. He and his wife were the only people in town who knew who I really was.” A pang of guilt stabbed at my stomach. I had deceived that entire town—and for what? The only reason I had been there was so that I didn’t have to be
here
. So that I didn’t have to live alone in this huge house, constantly reminded that
this
—this life—was the only thing my parents thought was worth protecting. And being hidden away from Brandon and my father had seemed reasonable at the time—everything had been such a mess in Montana. I had been afraid—scared of what Brandon was and the people he worked with. And there was that constant reminder from everyone in my life that he belonged to my father. My father had treated me as a pawn my entire adult life—just a puzzle piece in the game he was playing. I had almost become a
thing
instead of a person—some valuable piece of property that he was waiting to trade to the highest bidder.

And there was no way Brandon would ever be the high bidder in the stakes that had become my life. Not after everything my father had already pulled trying to get me to go back to Daniel for some unknown reason. That was the only thing that still made no sense to me—Krystal had been able to clear up so many of the other mysteries. But the stuff about Daniel—why my father had helped him fake his death. Why
Brandon
had helped him—I still didn’t understand. But I knew I was going to hold Brandon to the promises he had made me in the car. No more secrets. No more lies. If he couldn’t be up front with me, I knew I couldn’t have him in my life. I didn’t know what my future held at that moment, but I knew he wasn’t going to drag me any further into the political quagmire than either of them already had. I had committed myself to living a normal life, and if it meant living it without Brandon, I was fully prepared to do just that.

“Can you at least tell me what you were running from?” I turned back to face him and saw the look of pain in his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair again. “Tell me you weren’t running from me. I came back for you, Jen. It took some time, but I came back for you. You should have known—”

“Known what?” I couldn’t help but interrupt. When Krystal had revealed to me exactly what it was that Brandon did for a living—when she had told me what I should have known all along, I should have been disgusted. I should have hated him for the things he had done. But I didn’t. I couldn’t, because he and I shared something that went beyond any of the despicable things he may have done for my father in the past. It didn’t matter that Krystal and Cade and Marian didn’t want me with him. The only thing that mattered was that I understood now why we shared the bond we did. A bond that had only grown deeper for me since leaving him—and deeper still when I found out about the secret I was almost certain
he
didn’t know about yet.

“Known who I was with. You should have known it was Ryan and Melissa. I just … I just thought you would have been able to figure it out.” He shook his head, turning his gaze to the darkness outside the window.

“I knew. I knew because of the way the bed had been made. I took the gun out of the drawer and I—”

His gaze returned to mine, his eyes widening as he interrupted. “You knew about the gun? I didn’t think you even knew how to hold a gun, Jen.”

“I didn’t. I still don’t.” I turned back to the window. “I don’t want
that
life any more than I want
this
life.”

“You have to tell him that. Your father, I mean. You have to tell him that you choose me—that you don’t want this.” He reached out, touching my leg. “You have to tell him you’re willing to let it all go. It’s the only way we can be together.”

I couldn’t even look at him, my gaze still fixed on the window. “Is this how you pictured it? The Hennessey Compound?” I turned to look at him. “Is it everything you imagined it would be? Because it’s mine, you know. Even though I’m not a Hennessey by blood, Marian’s name is on my birth certificate. I’m the only heir.”

“Jen, about that…” He let out a long sigh. “There’s so much about that. About your mother…” He pulled his hand away from my leg. “It’s not something I should have kept from you.”

“I know.” I turned back to face him. “I know everything.”

He tilted his head, his gaze softening. He shook his head. “I mean your real mother. I should have told you before.”

“I know. I mean, I know you should have told me.
And
I know.”

His eyes widened again, and he almost looked panicked. “Does your father know that you know?”

I shrugged. “I doubt it. I haven’t seen him since before I last saw you. Did you miss that in the short little interaction we had down there? He thought I was with
Daniel
. Why would he think that, Brandon? Why would he think I was with Daniel?” I could feel every muscle in my body tense as I waited for his response.

He turned his gaze to the floor. “I know I said I’d tell you everything.” He lifted his gaze to meet mine. “And I will. But first you need to tell me what you know about your mother. Your biological mother.”

“Why? You said you already knew.” My brow furrowed. “Do you think I’m trying to trick you into telling me? Didn’t you promise you’d tell me everything, anyway? Didn’t we spend two hours in the car talking about how you weren’t going to lie to me ever again?”

“It’s not a lie, Jen. It’s a situation.”

I shook my head. “You aren’t the only person who could answer the questions I had, Brandon. You aren’t the only one who holds the keys. And the keys…” I shook my head again, tilting my head to meet his gaze. “I don’t think you’re even remotely aware of the keys you’re missing yourself.”

He winced, almost like I had slapped him. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean? That you think you’re privy to something that I’m not? You’re trying to hold something over me?”

I groaned in response. “No.” My fists clenched, my fingernails biting into the skin of my palms. “That’s the opposite of what I’m trying to do. I’m trying to tell you that we’re more alike than different. That we’ve been through the same things.”

He sat up straight and looked around the room before turning back to me. “Do the walls have ears here or something? Are you afraid someone is listening in? Because I can tell you that your father doesn’t have any listening devices in this place. I don’t think he ever even comes here.”

My jaw clenched and I had to close my eyes for a moment. “And as delightful as it is that you seem to know more about my father than
I
do, that isn’t what I was getting at.”

“Is it your mother? You think she’s listening?”

“God, no. Can you just listen? Just for a second?” My muscles were almost rigid from my frustration. Nothing had changed about how Brandon reacted when he felt backed into a corner—he was like some wild animal who would fight and claw his way out, no matter how much someone was trying to help him.

He stood up, raking both hands through his hair. “I
am
listening.” He turned away from me for a long moment before turning back, breathing out a long sigh. “This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.”

“I know. It wasn’t how I imagined it, either.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed again. “I guess I’m relieved to know you were at least thinking about this. Our reunion. That you actually believed it was going to happen.”

I reached my hand out to him, and he took it. “I thought about it every day, Brandon. Every single day. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think about you. I swear to God.”

He nodded, giving my hand a squeeze.

“And I meant what I said about telling you everything I know, even though I’m fairly sure this information is all going to go back to my father.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a long sigh. “It
isn’t
. You’re just going to have to trust me on that one.”

I nodded. And I knew he was right—I
was
going to have to trust him. I didn’t have any other options. I didn’t trust Marian
or
my father. I also didn’t trust the people they surrounded themselves with, but I knew that I had to trust him. I had to give up whatever reservations I’d had and let them go. Trusting Brandon was the only choice I had now.

“
T
ell
me what you know about her.”

This was the secret—the big deal that no one felt I was capable of handling. No one until the day Krystal and Cade showed up at the cabin in Montana, anyway.

“Fine.” I let out a shaky breath, pulling my hand back to wrap my arms around my legs again. “But I think there are parts of this story that
you
don’t know. And I need you to not freak out.”

He chuckled. “Jen, I know this story backward and forward. I’ve known it longer than I’ve known
you
.”

I shook my head, narrowing my gaze. “You know, I should be pissed at you for saying that. I should be so angry with you—”

“But you aren’t. You aren’t because someone finally told you and you understand why I couldn’t. You understand the danger you’re in … could be in.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll fill in any blanks if I can, but I need to know what you know.”

I shook my head, turning my gaze back to the window. “I know Amanda and I shared a biological mother.”

“And…?”

I turned back to face him. “And what? That isn’t enough? I’m my little brother’s aunt
and
sister and that isn’t enough?”

He shook his head. “Whoever told you the story left out a few parts if that’s all you know.”

“I know her name was Angela—my mother. I know she died a long time ago—”

“You
think
she died a long time ago.”

My stomach twisted around itself and I was glad I hadn’t eaten in a while, because I was fairly sure I would have puked if I had. “What is that supposed to mean? I
think
?”

“You really haven’t been paying much attention, have you?” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know if she’s dead or not, but I wouldn’t put it past anyone to have faked her death given what she did. Given who her husband was at the time.” He shook his head. “Christ, Jen, who do you think Daniel was trying to sell you to when he kidnapped you?”

Tears stung behind my eyes. I had sworn I wasn’t going to cry about this. This wasn’t new to me anymore and there were no more tears left for me to shed. My biological mother had cheated on her husband with my father. Her husband just happened to be in prison at the time. Raul Agostino had ties not just to organized crime, but to almost every political family in the country. And my father had knocked up his wife with me while he was in prison. There had never been another choice but for her to give me to my father and pray for the best. I still didn’t know for sure how my father had managed to convince Marian that claiming me as her own was a good idea, but it had worked. For a while. Until other things came into play—like Amanda’s affair with my father. Krystal had explained that it had to have been some kind of vengeance-seeking on her part—that Amanda was trying to somehow get back at my father and make her step-father happy at the same time by getting pregnant with the senator’s child. It was twisted—I would give her that. But Amanda’s choices had brought about her own demise—she played too many sides against each other. Hers had been a clear example of why being caught in the middle was so dangerous. When both sides had had enough, her death was the only option. Her carelessness and greed would have brought down both families. I knew my father had no love for the Agostinos, and other than wanting to bury the hatchet, no interest in having any dealings with them at all. But then he had fathered a child with Amanda. And Krystal was sure that he’d had no idea at the time that she was in any way connected to the Agostinos.

“Jen, there aren’t many people out there who can keep you safe if they decide they want to come after you. But I can. If you tell your father—”

My eyes widened and I turned back to face him. “
You
can? I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but you didn’t do that great a job the last time you were supposed to protect me.”

He shook his head, setting his jaw. “Ryan was never after
you
. He was after me. I had something he wanted.”

I lifted a brow. “And do you still?”

He shook his head again. “No.”

I blew out a long breath. “And you’re not willing to share what it was he wanted?”

“Jen…” He shook his head, pausing for a long moment. “He wanted information I had. That’s it. I gave it to him and he let me go.”

“And that information was…?” I gave him an expectant look.

I saw his nostrils flare for only a moment. “The location of something he wanted. Something we both wanted. We each knew a piece of a puzzle and…” He closed his eyes and drew in a long breath. “Christ, it sounds like the plot of a bad movie.” He opened his eyes and looked into mine. “It was money, basically. That was all that was really important about it. Money and a small amount of power. Nothing I couldn’t live without. Nothing that was worth leaving you alone in Montana.”

“I don’t understand—”

“He left me with that little bitch you used to call a friend. I convinced Melissa to help me and she did. I gave him what he wanted and she helped me get back to the cabin. That’s all that’s important.”

“Except that was why he stabbed you in the first place.” My brow furrowed again. “So it was worth getting stabbed over, but it wasn’t worth leaving me over?” I let out a sigh. “You know what? This doesn’t matter at all in the end. This isn’t worth fighting about.”

“I could not agree with you more. Seriously.” A smile flashed briefly across his face. “I’m glad we cleared that up.”

“No. Nothing is cleared up. Not about that. I still don’t see how you can protect me if the Agostinos suddenly decide that they need to seek some kind of revenge on my father. I’m a dead woman if that happens—we both know that.”

He shook his head. “No. What I gave Ryan—what I gave up for his family—they owe
me
now. They may have done a lot of dirty things, but they live by their word. It’s all they have.”

“It’s all any of us have, really.” I turned back to the window. Telling him the next part of this was going to destroy him. I knew it somewhere inside myself, and I felt like my guts were shredding themselves into pieces. I could only think about how devastated I had been when I found out Marian’s secret that night. How I had almost let that information destroy me. I knew it was going to do the same thing to Brandon, and I didn’t know how to soften the blow.

“Who has been hiding you? And how? I need to know…” I turned to see him raking his hand through his hair again.

I lifted a brow. “This isn’t really
your
question, though, right? This is the one my father sent you up here to have answered.”

He winced, and I knew that I had hit the nail upon the head.

“Why does my father care about Daniel?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m pretty sure it’s my turn. I get to ask the next question—it’s only fair.”

“I never said anything about playing fair, Brandon. And I didn’t think that phrase was even in your vocabulary.”

Whatever it was that had been on his face—the guilt and anguish—melted into a smile. “You always could see right through me, you know.”

I returned the grin. “What can I say? It’s a gift.” I sucked in another breath—the only answer I really craved tonight was what Daniel had on Brandon and my father that kept them both at his feet. “Now, about Daniel…”

“I know where he is. And he’s not dead—there hasn’t been another faked death, and he won’t be coming back to bother you for a long time. If ever.”

“Really?” I wished that I could feel some sense of relief, but I didn’t. I didn’t really believe the words that were coming from his mouth. It was all almost too rehearsed—too perfect. There was something that just smacked of insincerity.

“You don’t believe me.” He tore his gaze away from mine, staring out the window behind me. “I don’t blame you. For not believing me, I mean. I don’t think I’ve ever done a damned thing to make you trust me. I never really understood why you ever did.”

“Because you asked me to.”

He nodded, returning his gaze to mine. “I don’t know what he did. Honestly. I don’t know how the whole faked death situation came about. I know that your father asked me to help and I did. He asked me to keep tabs on him for a while in Japan, and I did that, too. I helped with the cover-up, with faking the accident scene. I helped get him out of the country. But I never knew what it was that he did and I never asked. There are some things that are just better
not
to know. My gut says this is one of them.” He reached out to touch my hand that was clenched again into a fist. “You’re just going to have to trust that it’s better not to know. And if I could go back in time and have you
never
find out he was alive, I’d do it in a heartbeat. If I could undo a lot of things, I would.”

“Okay.” There wasn’t much else to say. It wasn’t as though I could argue with him about it—there were many, many things I had learned over the past nine months that I wished I could
un-
know now. I had spent most of my life with my head buried in the sand, but when I pulled it out and looked around, the sand seemed like it had been a pretty great place to have my head buried. Things only became more difficult, especially with the kind of business that Brandon did for others. He did the work that no one else wanted to do—cleaned up the messes that other people made. And the way he accomplished those tasks wasn’t always above board. Or legal.

“Really? Just like that?” He lifted a brow. “No, ‘Tell me what you knew and when you knew it?’”

I shook my head. “No. I’ve spent a lot of time the past few years telling myself I didn’t want to know—that I didn’t care. And when I realized I did and I started seeing things…” I shook my head again. “Let’s just say I agree with you that some things are better off unknown.
Some
things.” I felt tears sting in my eyes again. This was going to suck—hurting him. Not that I had been the person who had hurt him, but I knew I was going to have to deliver the news to him that was going to bring him to his knees.

“Good. My turn now. And I need you to be completely honest with me, Jen. One hundred percent honest—no partial answers.” His brows knitted together, almost as though what he was asking of me was going to be as painful as what I knew I needed to tell him. “That’s still the agreement, right? Complete honesty.”

“Okay.” Even though I knew he hadn’t followed through on the “complete honesty” agreement himself, I knew I would. Even if it meant that the information would funnel directly to my father, it didn’t seem to matter at the moment.

“Alright. I need to know who took you. Who helped you get out of that cabin and who’s been hiding you all these months? And none of the ‘Bob’ business—I know that guy has nothing to do with any of this other than probably getting one hell of a payday to help you out.”

I nodded. “You’re right. He did—he spent most of it remodeling that gift shop and getting some decent merchandise in there—”

He cut me off with his smile and the shake of his head. “No changing the subject. Who and how. And when would be good, too.”

I barely heard the click of the door as it closed. Brandon and I both looked over at the woman standing just inside.

Krystal smiled. “It was me.”