Jack (The Family Simon Book 2) (25 page)

Jack got right up in Derek’s face again. “I’m only going to ask you one more time. What the fuck did you do?”

“Besides fuck her? I took some pictures and some videos, and I told her that if she ever showed her face in Florida again, I’d use them.”

Something twisted inside Jack, and he let loose with several more quick hits that put Derek McKenzie back down on the floor. When he was done, his knuckles were as bloody as Derek’s face.

“You did all of this?” he roared, stepping away because if he didn’t, he just might kill the bastard.

“No,” Derek gasped. “I didn’t. Cooper has them. I…. He…he took them a couple years ago.” He coughed and made it to his knees. “I would never jeopardize your bid for senator. Never. I swear,” Derek said roughly. “It wasn’t me. Cooper must have leaked the information.”

“Why the hell would Cooper do that? It makes no sense.”

“I don’t know,” Derek said, backing away when Jack took a step forward. “You’d have to ask him that yourself. I’ve been trying to get hold of the bastard ever since the story broke. I was looking out for you, Jack. I always look out for you. It’s my job.”

Heavy breaths falling from him, Jack swore and turned away. He was more confused than ever.

“Jack,” Derek said hoarsely. “We can work this out, right?”

“Who else knows about this?” he spat.

“No one.” Derek was crying. “No one but Cooper. I swear. I haven’t told anyone. I…shit.”

“Who?” Jack asked tersely.

“Jayleigh. Jayleigh knows. I mean, hell she hasn’t seen anything but she knows.”

Jack left without another word. He slid into his Mercedes and sat there, hands on the steering wheel for so long that his fingers cramped. Minutes passed and finally he put the car into gear and drove off, putting a call through as he did so.

“Hey.” Maverick’s voice filled the interior of the car.

“Where’s Cooper at?”

Silence.

“Rick, don’t play games with me. Where the hell is Cooper at?” The son-of-a-bitch was known for disappearing for weeks at a time, and Jack hadn’t heard from him since the fundraiser.

“Jack—”

“He has the fucking pictures and video Maverick. I need to see him.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I just came from Derek. He told me Cooper took the thumb drive. I want it in my hands, so that I can end this right now.”

Maverick swore a blue streak. “He told me that he had nothing to do with it.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s at his place in Maine.”

“Maine?”

Jack’s tires squealed as he moved over two lanes and made it back onto the interstate. Looks like he was heading to the airport.

“He’s got a place out there. An old estate he bought over ten years ago. I’ll text you the address.”

“Thanks,” Jack said tersely.

“Have you talked to Donovan?”

“No.”

“Do you plan on it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, looks like you’ve got some stuff to figure out.”

No shit, Jack thought.

“And while you’re at it, try not to forget that Cooper has his black belt. I’d hate to see that pretty face of yours ruined.”

Jack sped into the night, his anger barely in check and his thoughts all over the place. He had no idea if he was going to accomplish anything, but it didn’t matter. He had to do something, because even the thought of doing something was better than sitting in his beach house thinking about Donovan.

Because Donovan was complicated and messy and mysterious and aggravating. And as hard as that was, he loved her. He fucking loved her. But then hadn’t he always?

The problem was that he didn’t know what to do about it. The pain of her betrayal was still too raw and though he knew he’d find his way back to her, he didn’t know how much time he needed to get his head straight.

He loved her. That was a given. This situation was going to take some time. Another given.

He just hoped she was willing to give him the time he needed.

Jack landed in Maine at close to midnight. He was dead tired and suffering from a severe lack of focus. He punched the address Maverick had given him into the GPS of his rental, and as he pulled out of the airport, he had to ask himself, was he going crazy?

“Let’s hope not,” he muttered.

Jonathan Grimes, his new campaign manager, had called him several times on the flight, and he knew that his political campaign was intact. His publicist had also made a statement, basically saying ‘no comment’, and for now the storm was at bay.

He needed to make sure it never reached land.

He drove for nearly an hour, out along the coast, and when he finally found the address he was looking for, Jack pulled into the long driveway, blinking away his fatigue. When was the last time he’d slept?

The driveway was nothing more than gravel littered with potholes. After the fourth time his front tire banged hard, he switched on his high beams. They lit up tall grass along each side that blew shadows across his windshield. Big drops of rain started to fall, and Jack peered into the distance, spotting a light among the gloom.

He passed a barn on the right—one that had seen better days—and a large house rose out of the darkness, illuminated by his car and nothing else.

Jack parked alongside a shiny silver Land Rover and cut the engine. This wasn’t at all what he’d expected to find. Cooper wasn’t exactly the rundown farm type.

He scrubbed at his eyes and slid out of his rental, long strides taking him up steps that were on the rickety side and a porch that was leaning a little too much to the right. The doorknob turned, and he didn’t bother knocking. He walked inside and closed it behind him.

The place was in darkness, but the moon allowed him to see enough to move around without bumping into anything. He’d seen a light from the road, and because the driveway had twisted and turned, he was thinking the light had come from the back of the house.

Jack spotted a hallway to his left and made his way toward it, ears picking up when he heard music on low and a man’s voice. Cooper. The hallway opened up into a large room, one that was dimly lit, and Jack spied Cooper sitting at a table and working at a computer. His back was to Jack, but his cousin was shirtless, humming along to some old rock from the 70’s.

“Cooper.”

Cooper stopped typing and glanced over his shoulder. His blond hair was mussed, he hadn’t shaved in days. Jack had never seen this GQ Simon looking so rough.

“You look like you need a drink,” Cooper said, getting out of his chair. He was shirtless, and his jeans had more holes in them than his damn driveway.

“I know about the pictures and the tapes of Donovan and Derek.” Jack’s voice was rough, like sandpaper.

Cooper glanced up at him before opening the fridge and tossing him a cold beer. Jack watched Cooper pull back his tab and take a good long drink, but he didn’t open his. He was too angry to drink.

“She told you?”

“No.”

Cooper was surprised. Jack could see that.

“Did you leak the story?” he asked through gritted teeth.

Cooper set his beer down onto the counter. “Jack I’ve been here since the fundraiser and no I didn’t leak the story. I’ve got hydro and water and that’s about it. I’ve got my cell and the only reason I called Maverick back was because he threatened to out me if I didn’t. I’m not ready for the world to know I’m Lee Holloway.”

“Who?”

“Never mind. It wasn’t me. Hell, I don’t even have internet. Nothing.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t me.”

Jack saw the truth in his cousin’s eyes, and he pulled out a chair, setting his beer on the table. He had a good idea who it was.

“The story was leaked to the press when I was up at the cottage. .A story about Donovan and Derek, and it alluded to video and pictures of the two of them together. I just came from Derek, and he told me it was true.” Jack grimaced. “Said he’d had sex with Donovan, but that you had the evidence.” He glared across the room at his cousin. The thought of anyone seeing Donovan like that made him sick. “Do you have it?”

Cooper ran his hands through his messy blond hair and sighed. “I do.”

Jack was off his chair in an instant, long legs carrying him across the room until he stood toe to toe with Cooper.

“Calm down,” Coop said, hands in the air, palms up. “Just listen before you go off half-cocked and throwing punches.”

Jack let him back up and watched him closely. “How the hell did you end up with something like that?”

“A few years ago, Derek hosted a Christmas party as his place, remember? A lot of your staff was there. Tucker. Beau. You left, and I stayed for some more tequila. Derek got loaded and started going on about Donovan. Told me he was the reason for your breakup. Said he had evidence.”

Jack swore and ran his hand along his jaw.

“Look. I’ve never liked the guy. He’s always had an unhealthy infatuation with you, and I never trusted him. I didn’t know if he was bullshitting or telling me the truth, so I asked to see his so called evidence. The guy was cocky as hell and took me to his office. He poured me anther tequila and then popped in the thumb drive. I didn’t see much, a few images, no video, but it was enough to know that what was on there would do damage. I took it and told him that if he ever mentioned it to anyone, I’d make him wish his life was over. I’d take everything. His wife, his nice cushy life and, most of all, I’d make sure he never had anything to do with you again.”

Jack bent over, hands on his knees. This wasn’t what he’d wanted to hear. Maybe some part of him was hoping it was all a big misunderstanding, but this? This was real.

“She’s pregnant with my kid.”

Cooper was shocked. At least that’s how Jack was going to take the blue streak that fell out of his cousin’s mouth.

“I gotta be up front with you, Jack. I warned her to stay away from you.” At Jack’s blank stare, Cooper sighed. “Look. You’re family, and I thought she was bad news. At the fundraiser, I told her to stay away. That if I caught wind of her hooking up with you, I’d release the tapes. It was bullshit, but she didn’t know it. Hell, I’d never wish that kind of political storm on you. But for her to risk that.” He shrugged. “Maybe I was wrong about her. Maybe you mean a lot more to her than I was giving her credit for. What’s she saying about all this shit?”

“I don’t know.” God, Jack felt like shit. “The whole thing’s a mess.”

“What are you going to do?” Cooper asked. “About Donovan?”

“Do you have it?” Jack asked, ignoring his cousin’s question.

“I don’t think you want to see that, Jack.”

“Have you watched it?” he asked, taking a step toward Cooper.

“No. The two images I saw were enough.”

“Do you have it?” Jack asked again, jaw clenched tight and mouth grim.

Cooper disappeared for a few minutes and when he appeared again, he had the thumb drive in his hands. He handed it over. “I have a safe under the floorboards in my bedroom. Nobody knows that I own this property, so I thought it was as good a place as any to keep it.” Cooper nodded toward his desktop. “Use my computer I’m going to bed.”

Jack waited until his cousin was gone and even though he felt sick to his stomach, he inserted the thumb drive. When he was finished watching the material, he got up and would have put his fist through the wall—if it was drywall. As it was, the walls were made of plaster, and he was pretty damn sure he broke several bones in his hand before he made it to the kitchen sink and vomited.

Donovan wrinkled her nose and shook her head as she re-read the instructions in the cookbook. What the hell was sifting flour?

With a sigh, she got up from the table and glanced outside. Roger would be back from the mainland soon, and she’d promised a meal. Her. Useless as hell, Donovan James was going to cook a meal for Roger and Mary.

She smoothed her hair back and tucked the wild waves behind her ears. It was humid, but she loved the warmth. She’d been cold since she arrived. Since Gravenhurst.

Donovan wasn’t sure she’d ever be warm again. She closed her eyes as a wave of nausea set in and waited for it to pass. This was something new. She’d been back on the island for nearly two weeks and had only experienced nausea the last few days. It was real. The pregnancy was real.

She rested her hands over her bare stomach and smiled. “Welcome to your life, whoever you are. It’s going to be stupid, crazy ride.”

Okay. Focus.

There was the sifting of the flour. Donovan wandered back into the kitchen and, after chewing on her bottom lip for a few moments, decided that maybe they didn’t need this fancy apple dessert after all. Maybe cut up fruit would do.

Her eyes brightened. Just like the fancy fruit trays in all those hotel rooms she stayed in when on tour.

She set to work and cut out the watermelon Roger had brought for her the week before. One of four, it was the only one left. She giggled and patted her stomach once more.

“Guess you like watermelon huh?”

Once that was done, she carved out the pineapple and tried her damnedest to make it look like something. It was leaning a bit when she placed it in the middle of the watermelon, and she decided that it looked like a bird. A phoenix to be precise. How metaphoric. Out of the ashes and all of that.

She cleaned grapes, strawberries, blueberries and raspberries and filled in the space around her phoenix. After that she cut up the watermelon and placed it as artfully as she could and when she was done, took a step back.

It looked pretty damn good.

She flew across the kitchen and opened up the large fridge and then placed her creation inside. Next, she checked on her marinating steaks (so the marinade was out of a bottle—she wasn’t telling anyone that) and took out the vegetables for her salad.

She had three kinds of onions, a red pepper and mushrooms. Somehow the colors had seemed right when she was in the grocery, but now she was rethinking the whole salad thing too.

Deciding she’d ponder it in the shower, Donovan headed to her bedroom, eyes firmly fixed on her door and not the one at the end of the hall. Even so, she couldn’t help the way her heart contracted or the pain that spliced across her chest when she thought about Jack. It would always be there, she supposed.