Sine Qua Non

Chapter Nineteen

Jay was silent on the drive home, her face gradually shifting from anger to something that he wasn’t sure how to identify. “There’s blood on your shirt,” she said at last.

Nicholas made an impatient noise and undid a few of the buttons before yanking his shirt over his head and wadding it up into the backseat. The car swerved.

“Jesus,” Jay said. “Don’t do that while you’re driving!”

“Well, I’m not really sure what you want from me Jay. I had it all under control.”

“Not beating Michael up would have been a start.”

“He made you cry.” A few drivers gave him second glances as they passed in their vehicles. People in Hollybrook weren’t generally in the habit of driving around half-dressed, busted up like they’d been bare-knuckle boxing in some underground bar. “On the street. In front of everyone.”

He gripped the wheel harder, wishing he’d broken Valdez’s nose.

“And he had a baby in the home. God, Nick, I never would have told you if I’d known that this is what you were going to do. You’re lucky Angie didn’t call the police. You could have killed him, hitting him like that.”

“Probably because she’s planning on killing him herself,” he said darkly.

Jay pressed her lips together and he felt an unwilling flicker of fear. The last time she’d looked at him like that, she had left him for nine years.

“It was because of the paper,” he said, and he saw her head turn back towards him. “That’s why I did it. When Meghana showed you that newspaper, you were looking at her the same way you looked at me.”

When I forced you.

Her mouth trembled before she bit her lip and turned away like she’d heard the unspoken words.

When they arrived at the house, she slipped past him as soon as he’d gotten the door unlocked. Nicholas had to resist the urge to follow, to forbid her from leaving him again. He made the turn into the master bedroom instead, gripping the marble sink of his bathroom and leaning in to study the damage that Michael had done to his face in the big, full-wall mirror.

Touching his nose tentatively, he hissed through his teeth. Blood trickled out of one nostril accompanied by a hot flash of pain. It didn’t feel broken but he looked like a fucking mess.

At least Valdez looks worse.

“Did he break your nose?” Jay appeared in the mirror behind him, framed by the gilt edges his father had chosen. She had changed out of her work clothes and was now wearing sleep shorts and a faded tank top that left very little to his suddenly very overactive imagination.

“No.” He lowered his hand to the sink. “Just busted it pretty badly. I’ll be fine.”

“Sit down,” she said, pointing to the bench outside of the shower.

He moved to obey, glancing up at her beneath his dark brows. “I thought you’d left.”

“Why would I leave?” she asked crossly. “We’re kind of stuck with each other at this point, aren’t we?”

Nicholas did not care for that phrasing at all, but when he opened his mouth to say as much a snarl of pain escaped his lips instead as she dabbed at one of his cuts with a Q-tip that felt like it had been doused in battery acid.

“Fuck, that hurts.”

“It’s your own fault if it does.” She picked up his hand in her cool one, studying his split and oozing knuckles, and he had a vision of himself coming to her for some bleeding scrape at ten, when her hands were still bigger than his and her gentleness was all he’d craved. Nicholas inhaled and—god, he could smell her fucking hair. “You’re lucky this isn’t deep. When human bites get infected, you can get sepsis all the way down to the bone.”

“You’re such a little nerd,” he breathed, shifting uncomfortably as she got a new Q-tip and began dabbing more of that liquid fire torture all over the back of his hand.

“As opposed to, what, a fratty jock with anger issues?” Her golden eyes narrowed beneath their heavy fringe of lashes. “I know what you thought you were trying to do, but beating up my ex-boyfriend isn’t going to un-print what that stupid newspaper said about us.”

“Are you sure it didn’t turn your crank at least a little, seeing me mop the floor with that waste?” Another harsh breath escaped him as she wound the bandage around his hand. He flexed his knuckles. “I thought you liked it when Daddy got mean.”

“Cut it out,” she said, in a missish voice that had him stirring. “You could have gone to jail. Or worse . Don’t shake your head at me,” she snapped, furious again, seeing the smirk tugging at his lips. “Even you’re not above the law, despite what you seem to think. Did you really think he took those pictures? Hand to heart.”

No,” he admitted. “But whoever did it knew their way around our house so it could have been him, and to be honest, after you told me what he said to you, I wanted to put a little fear of god into him, anyway.” He let his hands fall to his sides, tilting his head obediently when she leaned in to study the scratches from Angie’s nails. “He’s still in love with you. I can tell. Thinking about you with me doesn’t fit with his image of Jay the Angel. Seeing photographic confirmation would make his head explode.”

“Was I part of your bargain, too?” Her fingers gripped his chin a little too forcefully. “The one that you cancelled in the car? Did you really pay him off to stay him away from me?”

“I told you what I was willing to do to make you mine.”

Jay applied the Q-tip from hell to his face far more viciously than he felt the situation required. “Have you ever read Faust , Nicholas?”

“Why? Is it hot?”

“Stop smiling. This isn’t funny.”

Oh, Jay, you’re having far too much fun topping Daddy from the bottom in his own home.

He wound his arm around her waist and tugged her bodily onto his lap. Startled, she fumbled with the bottle of rubbing alcohol and nearly dropped it on the floor when he splayed his hand on her thigh to steady her. “I think Jake is the one who took the photographs.”

“Jake Van Hoff? Your friend from school?”

“We’re not friends,” he reminded her. “But yes. Him.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s your mother’s little boy toy.”

She let out a disbelieving laugh as she twisted to toss the bloodied Q-tip in her hand in the trash. “He’s not exactly her type.”

“He’s got a cock and a pulse. Of course he’s her type. He also has something she wants; he works for his uncle.” He took the bottle of alcohol from her loosened grip, screwing the cap on tightly and setting it on the counter beside him.

“The PI guy? You think he’s working for my mother? You think she’s paid him to take pictures of me?”

“I know he is. I had my guy trace his car—it was parked in front of her apartment. And guess what? It’s registered to a Frank Van Hoff. He’s driving his uncle’s car. I saw it in San Francisco, too. Same model.” Right outside your apartment. “It’s not fully paid off, either. He must be desperate.”

“You really think my own mother hired a cheap PI who’s in debt to follow me around and—” she couldn’t finish. Tears began to form in her eyes. “No. She’s awful, but you can’t believe she’d do that .”

“I do think that. I think there’s a lot of money at stake and she’s been whoring herself out to Jake to get a discount on services rendered.” His mouth flattened. “She might have even gotten the idea from my father, if he really did tell her about what had been doing on between us.”

Jay shook her head desperately. “Oh god. I don’t want her having that kind of hold on me, Nicholas. She knows I gave up the money for you.”

“Nothing is going to happen to you.”

“It already has! For years, I searched my name, waiting for the ticking bomb that would blow up my entire life. It might be the past for you, but it wasn’t for me. Until a few months ago, that was my present. I don’t want it to be my future as well. I can’t go through that again.”

Looking at her face, he felt his desire evaporate, leaving behind something hard and cold. Carefully, he stood, bringing her up with him as he got to his feet. “I know, sweet bird. I’m sorry.”

“I just want to be happy,” she said, brokenly slumping against his chest. “I just want to feel good without someone always trying to make it hurt. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I didn’t think it was too much to ask.”

“I know,” he said again. He walked to the bath and turned the tap, watching the water steam. When his eyes flicked to the mirror, he saw his smile turn sardonic. “Get in the bath. I’ll make you a nice, stiff drink, and then you can talk to me about anything you want while I wash your hair.”

“A bath.” She glanced at the tub uncertainly with a bitter twist to her mouth. “You know, the night I left, I scrubbed myself raw when I got to my motel—as if that could wash the whole evening away.”

Nicholas stared at her as she peeled off her clothes, seeing not her nakedness but the regret on her face. “You told me I didn’t scare you anymore.”

Jay got into the water and put her arms on the edge of the tub as she looked up at him. “You don’t.”

Nicholas felt his heart thump against his chest. With a terse nod, he turned and walked into the bedroom, pouring two glasses of the honey whiskey from the small bar area. So she really was thinking about leaving jostled with but she didn’t—she stayed. She had turned around when he came back, though he saw the muscles in her back ripple as he padded back into the room.

“Tell me what to do.” He set her glass where she could reach it as he swept down to his knees. When she didn’t reply right away, he gathered all her wayward locks of hair into a loose ponytail, and put his hands on her bare shoulders, smoothing them over her back the way he’d done when he was younger and a soft touch was the only tenderness with her that he could fathom. “Tell me how to take care of you.” Tell me how to fix this.

She reached up for his jaw, bringing his face down to hers.

And then, in a quiet but steady whisper, she told him.

*****

“So we have plenty of money in the bank, which puts us in a strong position for Q3.” Jay clicked to the next slide of the Powerpoint that she had spent the last two days putting together even as it felt as if her whole world was threatening to come apart at the seams. “New growth has slowed since Q1, but we’re still projected to make fifteen percent profit year over year.”

As she spoke, it was like she was hovering outside of her own body, watching herself. Public speaking had never been her forte, but practicing with Nicholas made her realize very quickly that she needed to memorize all her speeches because of how badly her notecards shook in her trembling hands. She gripped the clicker a little tighter, trying to hide the shaking.

A man from Marketing raised his hand. “If we’re doing so well, why is it just sitting in the accounts like deadweight?”

“Because it’s not deadweight.” Jay folded her arms behind her back. “It’s a buffer. Part of that deadweight ensures that your salary gets paid after all.”

She hadn’t been trying to be funny, but several people laughed—not at her, thank god—and she was able to get through the rest of the presentation before handing the remote off to Arthur and retreating to her seat as he gave the introduction for the next speaker.

Nicholas was sitting several seats down and looked very intimidating in his dark suit, which he undoubtedly intended, since he had worn the same one to intimidate her when he had come to San Francisco that first time and literally dressed her down in that little vegan diner.

She smoothed out an imaginary crease in her trousers, remembering her mother’s ability to zero in on her appearance and immediately point out all her flaws. She had donned her work clothes as if she were putting on armor, but as she was getting dressed, she found herself ticking off all the flaws out of habit, from the worn-out heels of her shoes to the fashion tape she used to keep her blouses from gaping open when the buttons were spaced too wide.

The thought of confronting her mother, in person, was terrifying.

Her fidgeting drew Nicholas’s eye. He gave her a brief, but pleased nod.

“Great talk, Justine,” someone said to her, and Jay looked over in surprise at a clutch of female employees, whose names she didn’t know.

“Yeah, you nailed it.”

“Um, thank you?” She smiled uncertainly, wondering if she were being mocked. After Annica was let go, she had left a schism in her wake. Most people supported Nicholas publicly, but privately, Jay knew there were people who felt that Annica had been punished for speaking the truth. They wouldn’t meet her eyes and left every room that she walked into.

She had two other meetings, neither of which she had to present in, before spending the rest of her day at her desk, reviewing metrics from some of her new direct reports and responding to emails. Her mind kept getting pulled towards her mother.

Nicholas no longer bothered to wait until after the building closed to collect her, which made her wonder, with a little lurch, if all of those late nights had been because of her.

As he strolled up, Jay fumbled to lock her computer, while stuffing her things in her bag. “You did nail that presentation,” he said, as she stumbled to her feet. “By the way.”

“You heard that?”

“You’ll get used to the office sycophants. They’re irritating but harmless.” He rested one hand on the small of her back as he dug into his pocket for his keys. “Are you ready to go?”

“I guess.”

“You’re ready. Just remember—your mother’s desperate.”

And desperate people are dangerous. They don’t have anything to lose.

Her mother was staying in Ridgeview, in what the people in the Granite County area referred to as “the bad part of town” because what they actually meant was that it was “affordable,” and therefore undesirable because it wouldn’t be inhabited by the rich elite worthy of their time.

Jay remembered Annica’s glaring once-over as she said, dismissively, “You look like you grew up here.” As Nicholas drove his car through this genteel version of “poverty,” she found herself recalling all the times she had gone to bed hungry or used watered-down dish soap as hand soap, and wondered if her coworker would have liked her any better if she’d known that she had grown up even poorer than her.

Probably not . Jay looked at the peeling paint of what she assumed was her mother’s apartment complex, noting the proximity to the railroad tracks and the empty, yet-to-be-developed-lot next to a convenience store with a burnt-out sign. The cars parked on the street were old, but all of their windows were intact and none of them were perched precariously on wooden blocks.

“She told me she was on the verge of living on the streets,” Jay said.

“And you believed that old liar?” He parallel parked across the street, almost hitting the Volvo in front of them. “That’s the car I had tracked, right in front of her house. It’s the newest one on the street. Looks like they’re spending the night in. How cozy.”

He headed across the street without any sort of preamble and Jay jogged a little to catch up to his long stride, wondering if their formal office attire was drawing stares through those shuttered windows. She would have liked more time to prepare herself but Nicholas seemed nearly eager.

“Danielle!” He rapped on her door so sharply that he opened up the scrapes he’d gotten from whaling on Michael, leaving little streaks of blood on the paint. “Open the fucking door.”

“Maybe she’s not ho—” Jay began, only for the door to swing wide open. “Oh.”

She hadn’t seen her mother in years. She was still petite, and her spare, lean build suggested that she still worked out. Her long blonde hair was scraped back into a ballerina bun and her cheekbones were dusted with some kind of glittery bronzer. The only nod to her true age were a handful of sunspots and a few fresh wrinkles.

Her mother gave her a once-over. Critical and unfriendly, it made Jay feel like she was being measured and found wanting even as she was being condemned for both.

“Oh,” she said. “It’s you .” Her eyes shifted to Nicholas. “I guess you don’t make idle threats.”

Jay turned to Nicholas, who was looking at her mother the way someone might look at a buzzing fly in a restaurant. When did he talk to my mother? she wondered, disturbed by the glacial rage in his eyes.

“Are you going to invite us inside or do you want me to have my lawyer dial in through your Ring app?”

The mention of litigation seemed to get to her mother. She quickly stepped aside and Jay, walking into the foyer, found herself in a space that looked like the back room of a Victoria’s Secret, with everything done in shades of varying pink or white. There was a sugar cookie smell that made her feel vaguely sick, reminiscent of the strip club and too many mall trips that she hadn’t enjoyed. Fake vanilla and humiliation.

Jay’s mother drifted to her fridge and opened the door. The shelves were mostly empty but then, her mother had never cooked. She pulled out a frosted bottle of peach-colored wine from the top shelf. “I suppose you’ll want a drink.”

Nicholas eyed her. “Do I look like one of your girlfriends?”

Jay saw her mother’s mouth open, ready to deliver a cutting remark. Then she appeared to think better of it. “Your father never said no.”

Nicholas just looked at her. She swallowed, and then covered her unease with a shrug.

“Justine, wine?” It sounded like a command.

“Fine.” She didn’t want it, either, but it would give her something to do with her hands, which were shaking quite badly. Nicholas raised a disapproving eyebrow at her as she accepted the glass with shaky hands and took a few desperate sips of the sickeningly sweet rosé.

“I suppose you let him bully you into coming here.” Her mother watched her hands, not looking away when Jay accidentally splashed some of the wine on herself. “He said he would.”

Nicholas gave her hip a squeeze, which did not go unnoticed by her mother.

“I didn’t realize your brother had turned you into such a pushover.”

The barb had been intended to sting but it didn’t hurt as much as it would have before, when her self-worth had hinged on how well she had pleased the people around her.

She realized, with a kind of numb fascination that was heightened by the wine, that she no longer really cared what her mother thought of her at all.

“This is a nice place.” Nicholas gave her a little tap with his fingers before letting his hand drop from her back. Her mother grew tense as he circled the kitchen, like a panther pacing a cage. “Is it a rental? I imagine it must be, given the dire state of your financial woes.”

“You put me in this position,” her mother seethed.

“Did I?” Nicholas opened one of her cabinets, peering inside, before turning over his shoulder to give her a cold look. “I don’t remember telling you to get on your back.”

Jay’s mother looked at her. “Are you going to let him speak to me that way?”

Such a pushover. The wineglass trembled in her grip. “If you don’t like it, tell him yourself.” She set her glass clumsily onto the ugly Formica counter. “You’ve already sold me out once. And for what? An apartment on the train tracks? Screw you.”

Nicholas snorted, and headed back down her narrow hallway.

“You are living in my house, Justine. I suggest you remember that before accusing me of selling out.” Her mother turned on her roundly, deciding she was the easier target, even as she kept one wary eye on Nicholas. “Last I checked, you got there the same way I did.”

“Last I checked,” Jay said, “it’s not your name on the deed.”

“Why’s this door locked if you’re here alone?” Nicholas asked casually, rattling the doorknob on one of the three doors in the foyer. “Where’s it go?”

“My bedroom,” her mother snapped, looking away from Jay. “Stay out of there.”

“Nicholas, stop,” Jay said, when he tried the handle again.

“He always did take your marching orders.” Her mother’s tone was sour as Nicholas leaned back against the wall, his arms folded. She turned a look on Jay that would have made her wilt when she was fourteen. “I suppose I know why.”

“You do know why. You drove me into his arms.” Jay squared her shoulders. “It must have been very disappointing when he didn’t squeeze.”

“Doesn’t he?” her mother said.

Jay closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. “What’s your price? I’ve been told everyone has theirs. What do you want to make this stop?”

“Seven million dollars.”

Nicholas laughed from his post by the door.

“Seven million dollars in exchange for my silence . I saw that article—I know people are already talking. You’re the biggest scandal this town’s had since your father’s trial.”

“People always talk,” Nicholas said indifferently.

“I’m sure they’d talk a lot more if they know what you were up to when you were younger. Damon told me some things before he died.” A disgusted laugh left her lips. “I didn’t believe it at first, a little prude like you, but you didn’t waste much time trying to steal my husband from me, either, so why wouldn’t you sleep with your barely-legal stepbrother, too?”

Jay’s mouth fell open. “What?”

“He told me you came onto him that night at the resort when you were eighteen while you were hanging around the bar dressed like a little tart.”

She sounded as if being eighteen were a crime, Jay thought. Perhaps, to a woman like her mother, it was. The sour tang of bile rose in her throat. “That’s a fucking lie. He tried to—”

But she couldn’t finish. All she could taste was that cheap acidic wine.

He wanted to own me.

“You see? You can’t even deny it. Just like this thing you have with your brother—” Her mother jabbed a pointed fingernail at her. “When did this start? Because Damon told me that you’ve been fucking him since he was only fourteen.”

Jay’s vicious cry of denial was lost to a deafening thud, followed by the sound of splintering wood. Nicholas ignored both of their startled shouts and rammed his shoulder into the locked door again, causing it to jump off its broken hinges.

“How dare you,” Jay’s mother shouted, but she sounded terrified. As if she hadn’t realized how strong Nicholas really was, and how easily he could turn on her.

Or that he might want to if she pushed him far enough.

Nicholas walked into the room, and Jay heard a shout, followed by what appeared to be a loud scuffle and then a curse. She saw her mother’s eyes dart to her phone on the kitchen table, but Jay beat her to it, dropping the battered old iPhone with the cracked screen into her purse.

“Give that back,” her mother snapped. “Now, Justine!”

“I will, when we leave. Nicholas isn’t finished with his marching orders yet.”

“I am your mother ,” she seethed. “You listen to me right now and give me my phone .”

“If you’re my mother,” Jay said, still riding that wave of eerie calm, “you should act like it.”

Pain lit up the side of her face and Jay blinked in shock at her mother’s uplifted hand.

“You have a lot of nerve—you vindictive, twisted little—”

Her mother jumped back from Jay as Nicholas reemerged from the bedroom, holding a struggling Jake by his shirt collar. In his other hand was a camera.

“He was listening at the door.” With a display of strength that made Jay jump and her mother scream, he flung the camera onto the floor so roughly that it shattered, denting the linoleum. “He was recording, too. Which is illegal, in case you were wondering.”

“You ruined my floors!”

“My floors, actually,” Nicholas said, but her mother, who was working herself up to one of her tantrums, didn’t appear to hear. Jay did, and looked at him; he gave her a smile that she knew well, because she had been on both sides of it.

The fuck-or-get-fucked smile. And clearly, her mother was on the wrong side of the table.

Then he did a double-take and his eyes went to her reddened cheek, before swinging sharply to her mother and narrowing.

“That’s destruction of private property and assault,” Jake snarled, oblivious to the murderous expression on the other man’s face. “You want to talk about illegal . If you think you can keep me from pressing charges, you’re so fucking wrong. I won’t be bought off.”

“Isn’t it an election year?” Nicholas’s fury was no longer visible but Jay, who was far more familiar with his moods, could see it in every rigid outline of his body. “I think it is.”

“The view from your ivory tower must be pretty rosy if you think you’re that above the law.”

“Do you? I have your license plates and photographic evidence of you being places you’re not supposed to be. I know your dad isn’t going to go for that. He’d sacrifice you in a heartbeat.”

Jake scoffed. “You don’t know shit. Now, let go of me.”

Nicholas tilted his head to look at Jay’s seething mother. “You said I was like my father. But we both know what kind of man he was—that what he couldn’t acquire fairly, he destroyed. If you really believe that, I’m not sure why you would invite me over here and then try to fuck me.”

Jay’s mother turned away. “He betrayed me. Why shouldn’t I get my dues?”

“Do you really think you’re the wronged party here? He proposed to your own daughter, you stupid fucking bitch. If she were as grasping as you think she is, you would have been out on your ass the day of her graduation and she would have been his new wife. But she told him no. My father didn’t like no. He once arranged for the devaluation of a property when the owner wouldn’t sell. He tried to do the same thing to Jay’s reputation.”

“Everyone knew she was with Quentin and Michael,” Jake broke in.

“And my father did business with both of theirs.” He gave Jake a little shove, sending him stumbling back into a rack full of mismatched wineglasses that tumbled out and shattered. “How do you think he managed to control the narrative? He paid for the stories he thought were fit to circulate, until his influence dead-ended and control finally eluded him.

“I saw the way he watched her. I know you did, too. You saw him alienating her from her friends, cutting off her paths to escape one by one. But I think you convinced yourself to let the chips fall wherever they may because deep down, you wanted to teach her a lesson. If something did happen, with all your carefully laid criticism, she’d only blame herself.”

The kitchen seemed to go gray. Jay leaned back against the counter, breathing harder.

No , she thought. Oh god.

“I used to think you were just some dumb bimbo,” Nicholas was saying, “but you and my father really did deserve each other. Neither of you ever cared about anything but yourselves.”

“Jake,” Jay’s mother said, appealing to the other man, but he didn’t move. He looked at the glass, and then at Nicholas.

“You want to get involved in how I conduct my business, Van Hoff?” Nicholas gave him a chilling smile that was all teeth. “Someone in this room is getting fucked tonight but only one of you is going to like it.”

“Is that another threat?”

“No. You’re going to give me the negatives and then you’re going to pack up and leave before I call the cops and have you arrested for trespassing.”

Jay’s mother laughed angrily. “In my own apartment?”

“No, in mine. I did some digging and found out what you’ve been doing to float your rent, in addition to letting this pathetic little fuck live with you rent-free. Both of those things violate your rental agreement. Your landlord was very interested in hearing about that.”

“Well, he didn’t tell me . He’s supposed to give me thirty days.”

“I’m telling you. Get the hell out of my building.”

“I don’t believe you. You won’t fool me with your nasty tricks.”

“It’s not a trick. One of my recent business deals fell through so I had some extra money to burn. This is my apartment, whether you believe me or not, and if you don’t get the fuck out of it by five o’ clock this evening—that’s one hour from now—I’m forwarding everything I have on you to the police before I have them throw your ass out to the curb with the rest of the trash.”

“You can’t do that!” Jay’s mother looked at Jay. “Tell him he can’t do that.”

Jay shrugged.

“I also picked up most of your collective debts, so your car,” he added, tilting his head to look at Jake, “or, rather, my car, also belongs to me. So you’ll be hightailing it out of here on foot. Make the appropriate arrangements. Or don’t. I don’t really give a shit.”

“I’m your mother ,” her mother said again to Jay.

“Get on your knees,” said Nicholas.

“I—excuse me?”

“Get on your knees,” he repeated, “and beg her forgiveness. You said you were her mother—a real mother would do it. If the apology’s good enough, I’ll write you a check for ten grand.”

“You’re crazy,” her mother said.

Nicholas gave her a grim look. “It’s the best offer you’ll get.”

Jay was aware of a numbness in her fingertips as she turned her head to look at him. She could sense the desire for violence radiating from him as if it were a physical thing, rubbing against her skin like a furred and vicious creature that would eat her alive from sheer hunger alone.

It left her breathless.

Slowly, Jay’s mother got down to the linoleum floor. She winced a little and there was a popping sound as her kneecaps rolled against the hard surface.

“I’m sorry, baby.” She spoke grudgingly.

“For what?” Nicholas prompted. “Be specific.”

“I’m sorry I failed you as a mother. You were such a difficult child and I—” Nicholas gave her a sharp look and she broke off. “I wasn’t a good mom to you. It was wrong of me to buy into your brother’s twisted schemes to get my house and my money back.”

“Stop calling him my brother,” said Jay. “He’s my husband and the house belongs to us.”

That gave her mother pause—Jay could read every thought flashing across her face: fear, disgust, and something that looked a lot like jealousy. “You scheming little bitch .”

Jake muttered, “Shit.”

“God. You’re both such freaks .”

“And you’re a bad person!” She fought off the familiar prickling of shame spreading its fingers along her spine. “You spent so much time trying to make me feel as if I would never be good enough that I actually started to believe it.”

“Justine, spare me your persecution complex for once in your miserable little life. I know it’s all the rage now to hate your mother, but you’re not exactly an innocent here.”

“Bullshit,” Nicholas said.

“I tried to make you independent. I tried to make you grow up into a young woman. But you weren’t like me . You couldn’t take things on the chin. Everything hurt your feelings, like the child you are. Everything made you cry.” She drew herself up from the floor dramatically. “I’m sorry I hurt you by trying to toughen you up, but it seems like you landed on your feet anyway.”

“That’s your apology?” Her voice sounded a little too high. She didn’t care. “Saying that it was all my fault, and adding a mea culpa? You have been holding the bar over my head my whole life and criticizing me for not being able to reach it. But I don’t think you ever really wanted me to. I think it made you feel a whole lot better when I couldn’t. That’s why you threw me to the wolves! You wanted to see me get torn apart!”

“That’s not true!”

“Then why wouldn’t you let me feel pretty? Why wouldn’t you let me feel good ?” Jay shook her head wildly. “Why wouldn’t you believe me over your husband when he would sit there and talk about my how beautiful my fucking wrists were at the dinner table like it was his right to comment on my body? Why did you throw me at Nick ?”

“I just can’t believe you can say things like that to me with a straight face after marrying your own brother—I’m sorry, stepbrother —and sending him here to intimidate me like a little mob boss. You never came to me about your stepfather, Jay, and I remember how you dressed. You can force me to apologize all you want but it doesn’t change the fact that you liked the attention.”

Jay said nothing but a gasping breath left her lungs.

“It seems like you still do.” Her mother looked at her for a long moment, apparently satisfied. Turning to Nicholas, she said, “Just give me the ten thousand so we can drop this ugliness. I’m tired of this.”

Nicholas looked over her head at Jay. Even now, choking on all of her past trauma as if it were a bone stuck in her throat, she recognized the look—stern and expectant. The look he gave her whenever she defied him, like he was waiting to see if she would push him harder.

(you want it like that from Daddy?)

“Justine,” her mother said, snapping her fingers.

Still looking at Nick, Jay said, “No.”

“Excuse me?” her mother said.

“I said no .”

“What do you mean, no?”

“I don’t think my wife liked your apology.” Nicholas sounded like he was trying not to laugh. Enjoying himself, actually—but for once she didn’t fault him for it. Not when hearing him say my wife felt like being stroked by a staticky brush. “Get out of my apartment and take your boy-toy with you.”

“You promised me money!”

“Yeah, but your apology was shit.” Nicholas tilted his head and gave her the empty stare her mother had mentioned on the phone. “You have three options now. You can leave on foot, in a cop car, or on a stretcher.”

Jake tried to slink past Nicholas, to the safety of the bedroom, but he reached out and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. The fabric bunched beneath his Adam’s apple, making him gasp and choke.

“Where is she keeping the negatives?”

“M-my uncle has them.” Jake swallowed hard. “Please don’t hurt me, man.”

“People in my line of work don’t typically operate on good faith.” Nicholas studied him for a long time, letting the other man squirm before releasing him with a hard shove. “Put your keys on the counter and make sure she leaves.”

Jake tossed them clumsily on the Formica before darting into the bedroom. Nicholas pushed off from the wall to join Jay in the kitchen while Jay’s mother swore in her bedroom, grabbing jewelry and various other things and shoving them into a pink laundry basket.

He picked up what was left of the rosé wine and took a leisurely drink, his throat bobbing. He swallowed and held it out, offering it to her like a fallen angel offering to lead her down into hell. But Jay knew what hell was like. She’d grown up surrounded by its gilt trappings like a bird in a cage, and had almost been blinded by their deceitful dazzle.

Nicholas had burst into her life and dragged her back just when she finally thought she’d have a chance to escape, stalking and blackmailing her into submission, only to get down on his knees and offer to tear it all apart, bar by golden bar, if it meant that she would be his—and, more than that: if she would allow him to be hers .

To a girl who had never felt wanted, being coveted—fought over—fought for —was frightening. She had never wanted to be another man’s conquest. She had attended far too many feminist lectures to see herself as a thing .

But being the treasure he protected, the thing that made him turn vicious at her request—

Jay took the bottle and watched his eyes flare as she drank from where he’d put his mouth.

She thought she might like that.