Twisted Proposal (24 page)

“Addison, good morning,” Stuart said after a few dull seconds.

“Oh, don’t let me stop you from figuring out Fred’s court date. But I would like to know if this is before or after Jackson's and my wedding?” I crossed my arms.

Stuart went white.

“I bet it’s after, since I’m eighteen and I’m pretty sure that arranged marriages are
illegal
in the good ole’ state of California. Or, I’m sure it’s considered child abuse, possibly cruel and unusual punishment.”

“What is going on, young lady?” Stuart asked. He cocked an eyebrow at me, studying me quizzically.

For a moment, I hesitated. Had Jackson lied to me? But then, I noticed Stuart's eyelid was twitching, a sure sign of his discomfort. “Please, like you don’t know.” I slid off the desk to my feet.

Mr. Van Buren lifted his hand and faced my father. “It appears she’s found out, Stuart. It was only a matter of time. My son has many weaknesses.” Mr. Van Buren spoke clearly and directly, dismissing me in a manner that made me feel worthless. “Would you mind if I spoke to her alone?” He nodded at Jackson. "I would like for you to leave, too." Jackson glared and skulked out into the hall. I didn’t expect him to be much help anyway. He wasn’t going to stand up to his father any time soon. Materialistic things were too important to him.

Stuart shot me a disapproving frown before exiting the room shutting the door behind him.

Mr. Van Buren took his time walking over to me. I avoided his eyes and slid back onto Stuart’s desk and waited. It bothered me that I was attracted to him. Back home I’d only dated older men. One of which was my boss at the pizza place. Jackson was never going to reach the level of his father.

He stopped right in front of me, my knees grazing his slacks. “There are two things my son craves: beautiful women and expensive things. You, my dear, are neither.” 

“Do you honestly think I give a rats ass about what you think?”

He placed his cold hands on top of mine and leaned forward until our noses met.

“I’m not going to waste my time telling you the advantages of this relationship, not just for you, but for the family you were dumped into.” He pressed into my hands, crushing them on top of Stuart’s glass-covered desk. He moved closer to my ear. “No, someone as cheap as yourself wouldn’t appreciate any of it. So, I’ll just stick with the basics.”

Releasing me, he turned away and lit a cigarette. I flew to the window to get away from him. The more distance between us the better. The leather chair squeaked as he eased himself into it. “Will you please sit in a chair? It’s more appropriate for a young lady.” 

I didn’t budge. There was no way I was going anywhere near him.

“Fine, if you insist on being impertinent.” He faced the window, his gaze focused on something outside.  “You’re going through with this because you don’t want to see the one thing you’ve wanted your entire life disappear.”

“And that’s?”

“Well first, I’d fire Stuart and destroy everything he’s been working on for the last twenty years of his life. I’d kick them out of this house, this neighborhood. Hell, I’d have him stripped of his license and banned from practicing law in the State of California.”

I wasn’t shedding any tears over that. He was a crook anyway.

“That would be enough to put Petra in an early grave, which leaves the kids. I’m sure you can guess what will happen to them.”

“Who knows? It might teach them morals or something.”

“But I haven’t gotten to the best part yet.” He finished his drink. “For you, my dear, for you, I have a lovely little room picked out in the best mental institution the state of California has to offer.” He held up a postcard-size black-and-white picture of a large building, which he tossed at my feet. “Upon arrival, they’ll search you, delouse you, and then you’ll be strapped to a bed and be given a lobotomy. That clever little mind of yours won't be able to add two plus two.”

“Bullshit. Lobotomies are illegal.”

“You’re right. They are illegal, but when you supply a large donation every year, certain rules can and will be broken.” He raised his eyebrows at me.

“You can’t do this.” I began pacing. I didn’t care about Stuart losing his job or even this family going from riches to rags in a blink of an eye, but I did not want to spend the rest of my life wandering the halls of some psych ward wetting myself. 

“Why is this so important to you? Why me? Jackson could have anybody he wants."

“Because you’re perfect.”

“I’m not perfect.”

“But you are. You have no immediate family other than Stuart, so I don’t have to worry about people sticking their nose in where it doesn’t belong. My son seems more attracted to you than he was to…”

I lifted my head, but he didn’t respond. “To who? Lexus? Or the other girls you manipulated. ”

“It doesn’t matter. Now you know the stakes.” He rose and walked over to me. “I don’t want to hear another word about this. Understand?”

“You can’t expect me not to talk about it. You’re ruining my life.”

“I’m not ruining your life, think of it as an opportunity.”

“Of what?” I snapped. “This?” I lifted my dress and showed him the bruise on my stomach.

“Put your dress down Addison.” He said turning away.

I dropped it. “I won’t be his punching bag, I don’t care how much money you plan on giving Stuart.” I marched out of the room, slamming the door and ran up to my room where Jackson was waiting.

“What are you still going here?” I snapped sitting on the couch and flipping on the TV.

“Well, that went well,” he joined me.

My room felt like small like a cage as I flipped through the channels. I fought the urge to scream at Jackson.
They couldn’t get away with this, could they? There had to be a way. 

“Look I know my dad can be-” he said, stopping me mid-stride.

“Leave me alone.”

“I don’t understand why you are so against this?”

“Because I don’t want to be a part of it, end of discussion.”

“Fine, I’ll leave.”

“Good.”

“When you’re ready to talk, you know how to reach me.” He said and went to leave.

“Excuse me for not being Susie-fucking-sunshine. But if you haven’t noticed, my life hasn’t exactly been a bed of roses.”

              “Don’t tell me about your melodramatic teenage drama when I have real problems breathing down my neck. I will talk to you later. And you had better pick up.” He banged the door shut on his way out.

That boy wouldn’t know the meaning of real problems if it slapped him in the face. I threw the television remote across the room, and it bounced off the wall like a rubber ball.

I picked up the phone by my bed. No dial tone. So I searched around for my cell phone.

“Looking for this?” Stuart said. I watched him walk in the room and toss it on my bed. “You can make calls to Jackson, but that’s it.”

“You can’t make me marry him.” I wouldn’t look at him, he disgusted me.

              “As if you could stop me,” he said. He shut my door and locked it. Grabbing a pillow, I screamed into several times, vowing to get out of this, if it was the last thing I did.

Chapter Twenty Four

I was awakened by someone unlocking the door. I started to rise, but the ache in my stomach stopped me. Petra entered and strode over to my bed where she sat down and crossed her legs.
What did she want now?
Sunlight shone through my window, casting a yellow glow on the far wall; it had to be late in the afternoon.

              “So you had a chat with Mr. Van Buren yesterday. How did it go?” Petra asked.

I pushed up on my pillows and glanced at my cracked phone. It was 1:00 p.m.; I’d been out for a while. Jackson had called at midnight, but I slept through it. “As much as I enjoy talking to you, is there something you want? Or are you just here to irritate me?” My head was pounding.

“It’s just so much is happening so fast for you.” She smiled and fiddled with her fingernails. I could tell she was uncomfortable.

              I wasn’t in the mood for her crap this morning, especially after the day I had had yesterday. They were lucky I wasn’t dead on the side of the road. “What do you want me to do about it? It’s not like I’m in control of any of it.”

              “I know it’s not your fault.” She stood and sauntered over to my door before she turned to face me. “Your father wanted me to let you know you have a guest.”

              A guest? I didn’t want to see anyone, but I threw on some clothes.

              "He's in Stuart's office," Petra added. Then she drifted out the door.

              Stuart's office was open when I approached. Stuart was talking to a man with dark hair. When I walked in, I was suddenly three years old again.

***

Eve and I were waiting for one of her friends. I was playing with a few Legos that I had taken from the doctor’s office. We were at some kind of restaurant. A lady kept bugging us and bringing us water.

              “Finally.” Eve stood and hugged a dark-haired guy with black-framed glasses. “Addison, say hi to your uncle Henry,” she said.

              I glanced at the man who smiled at me, but I didn't speak.

              “See. She’s very good and polite. She’ll be no problem.”

              I didn’t know what they were talking about. Only that the guy bought us dinner and then he left.

***

              That was the first and last time that I saw him. It was the night that my mother decided to kill herself. As he sat in front of me now, he seemed so much older. His hair was sprinkled with grey, but he still had the same glasses. I gave him an awkward hug, and he released me, smiling. There was something about him that calmed me; maybe it was just knowing that he knew my mom, my real mom.

“Look at you. You’re all grown up,” he said with an English accent. "Do you remember me, Addison? I'm Henry Maddox, your godfather."

              “I’m so glad to see you,” I lied. I caught a glance of Stuart’s sour expression out of the corner of my eye.
Good. Let him suffer.

              “So, why are you here, Mr. Maddox?” Stuart inquired. He toyed with a ballpoint pen, twirling it around idly around his fingers.

              “Of course,” Henry said, sitting back down. “I just wanted to make sure that you were being taken care of. Your mother made me promise to look after you in the event…” He tapered off.

“So you came to spy on us?” Stuart asked.

“Hardly. I came to make sure she was being treated right,” Henry countered.

“Well, as you can see, she’s fine, just getting used to her new environment. She would be even better if you people didn't keep busting in and ruining everything.”

“What happened to your eye, my dear?”

“My eye?” Then I remembered the backhand that sent me flying across the room. “Nothing. I fell in the pool. I’m clumsy,” I lied.
Why was I covering for Jackson?

Henry frowned, studying me for a moment. “Are you sure?"

I nodded.

"Hmm, if you say so then." He turned toward Stuart. "By my calculations, she’s only been here a few weeks or so. Who else have you been hiding her from?” he asked with a raised eyebrow

“It’s for her own good. How can she be expected to move on if she’s constantly being reminded of her life in the slums?”

No wonder Dr. Franklin hadn’t contacted me
. Stuart probably had the phone blocked or something.

“She’s not a child. No, her mother made sure of that.” Henry’s face was red with fury. “She can’t be hidden in a box. She has friends and people who deserve to know she’s all right.”

“Then you can leave
now
, and tell them she’s fine. If they want to see her or hear from her again, they will back off.”

“Stop this,” I yelled. I joined Henry. “Stuart, I don’t want to live here anymore. And if Henry says he’s my godfather, I want to live with him.” I was shaking with fear on the inside.
What was I doing? Didn’t I want to stay here and go to Briarwood?

“Thankfully, dear, you don’t have a choice in the matter,” Stuart said.

“But she does. It’s her life, and I’m sure a jury and judge will enjoy hearing my side of the story. You should know I’m petitioning for the parental rights of Addison tomorrow morning.”

“On what grounds?” Stuart demanded.

“On the grounds that her mother granted me full custody in the event she died. It’s all here in her will.” Henry began digging around in his briefcase.

My mom had a will?

“What are you talking about?" Stuart asked.

Henry pulled out a vanilla envelope and produced a stack of legal-looking papers. Stuart took them to his desk and sat with a thud.

“Your mother tried to take care of you,” Henry said. “But between her love for the drugs and you, there just wasn’t enough for the two.”

“Don’t lie for them. Eve barely knew how to take care of herself, let alone anyone else. I took care of myself,” I said, stepping away from him, shaking my head.

“I think you should leave now,” Stuart said.

“Fine, but I’ll be back in the morning for Addison.” He scooped up the documents and put them back in his briefcase.

Stuart laughed.” Do you honestly think that I’m going to let you leave with my daughter?
My
flesh and blood?”

“You don’t even like me,” I said.
I wasn’t going down without a fight.

“You won’t give me a chance to know you.” Stuart laughed.

“He’s planning to marry me off to his boss’s son. Did he tell you that? That’s the whole reason I’m here, isn’t it, Stuart”

“What?” Henry said, more shocked now than before.

“She’s blowing it out of context,” Stuart said. His face flushed.

“You had better hope that’s what it is,” Henry argued.

“My boss’s son has taken a fancy to her, and thinks he’s in love.” Stuart gave me a warning glance.

Part of me wanted to show him the bruises on my arms from our fight yesterday, but I kept silent.

“Is this true?” Henry asked me.

“Something like that,” I conceded, staring at the ground.
What if told the truth and Henry couldn't take me? What would happen to me then?

Stuart rose. “The best thing for you to do, Mr. Moore, would be to walk out that door and forget all about her.”

“I want to live with Henry,” I insisted.

Stuart stared at me, narrowing his eyes. He couldn’t possibly think I‘d want to stay with him after everything that happened.

”You should leave now. Come back and pick me up tomorrow. I’ll be ready,” I told Henry.

Henry nodded. After giving me a quick hug, he left Stuart's office, saying, "Hang in there, Addison. I'll be back."

“Are you satisfied?” Stuart asked once Henry was gone.

“Yes.”

“You do know you just sentenced that man to death or worse.” He leaned up against his desk.

A chill raced down my spine. Facing Stuart, I tried to bluff him, make him see I wasn't afraid. “Death? Seriously you’re going to have to come up with a better one than that Stuart.” I chuckled.
He wasn’t serious, was he?
Then I remembered Jackson’s tale about his mother.
“You can’t kill him. You don’t have that kind of power.”

“You’re right, but I do work for the most powerful man in the state. Whose son is your future husband, whether you want him to be or not.”

He tossed a pen onto his desk. “There is no way you’re leaving my house with that man, who can barely afford his monthly house payment.”

“How do you know what he can and can’t afford?”

He didn’t answer but shuffled the papers on his desk.

“You did a background check on him, didn’t you?”

“You think I’m just going to let this creep take you?”

I fled to my room. After a few minutes of pacing, I changed into jogging clothes.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Stuart asked from behind me. I glared at him.
How long had he been standing there, spying on me?

“Don’t you ever knock?”

“I’m your father, and it means I don’t have to.”

“Correction, you do.” I pulled on my running shoes.

“Where are you going?”

“For a jog. Is that okay with you, Master?”

“Sure, in the basement.”

“To the park.”

“What part of ‘you’re grounded' didn’t you understand?”

“I don’t know, Stuart. Was it the part where you left me leave with a complete basket case for the night? Or the part where I come back battered and bruised and you don’t even care?” I was surprised by my sobs and dropped on a couch cushion and hid my face. Stuart left a few minutes later.
He wasn’t winning father of the year anytime soon.

Eventually the tears stopped, and I spent the night packing clothes and my belongings, not abandoning all hope just yet. There was still chance Henry would arrive at the front door in the morning to take me away from this.

At dawn, I went downstairs and drank coffee until Stuart walked in.

“This came for you early this morning,” Stuart said. He casually dropped an envelope on the table, then busied himself with making a cup of coffee.

I stared at the paper with my name scripted in blue ink on the front. A knot twisted in my stomach, the coffee churning. I already knew what it said. Ripping open the envelope, I raced through the letter from Henry, catching only glimpses of sentences:

I’m sorry, Addison, but your father’s right, I don’t want to get involved…things are too messy….complicated. I can’t take you
. 

He was abandoning me, too.
What was wrong with these people? Didn’t anyone care?
It was like watching a bad horror film. I imagined grabbing the meat cleaver the cook had left out and hacking Stuart to pieces and then running away. But that wasn’t reality. Reality was Stuart making his coffee while whistling an annoying tune.

Seizing a steak knife from the carving board on the island, I gripped the handle and approached Stuart. “I hate you,” I said, pointing the knife at him. He didn’t even bother to look up.

“Look at me, Stuart.”

I’m sure he saw the knife out of the corner of his eye then, because he jumped back, spilling coffee everywhere.

“Addison, what are you doing?”

“I’m getting out of here. Care if I use the car?” I yelled just as something sharp and cold stabbed me in the neck.

Jackson’s voice whispered in my ear: “Think again, beautiful. You’re not leaving. As it turns out, your friend Henry just needed a little personal and financial persuasion, and he was on his way. You should have known something like this would happen. Now look what you’ve made me do.” The knife slipped from my fingers and clattered onto the floor. My legs went numb. Jackson caught me before I hit the tile.  My vision had blurred.

“We’ll be upstairs,” Jackson said and I tried to focus on anything, but we were moving fast.  As Jackson carried me upstairs, I think we passed Zach on the steps. My eyelids shut. I willed them to open, but they refused. Everything sounded like it was being processed through long tunnel or worse. It made me sick, and I was thankful when silence came. I had to wake up, run away before it was too late. 

“I know you can hear me. I can tell by your breathing.” Jackson’s hand gripped mine. You’re staying here with me,” he said, and there was a slight pressure on the side of my neck. Then I passed out completely.

***

Something was happening, but I couldn’t figure out what. There were lights, sounds, music maybe, and then a loud ringing noise that jolted me awake. At first everything was blurry, but after I blinked a few times Jackson’s face became clear. I fought to open my eyes.
What was he doing here?

“Hey, beautiful, I thought I'd lost you,” he said, hugging me.

Lost me? Where did I go?
Everything felt heavy.

“Good. Now I need you to sit up, okay?”

I managed to sit up on my own, but not without effort.
What was wrong with me?
Did I get into some kind of accident or something?