Hollow Justice (Cowboy Justice Association Book 13) Page 2
"But you love me anyway."
She did. More than she'd ever thought she could. Before him she'd assumed that she'd be alone, but then he'd thundered and stomped into her life and things had never been the same.
Thank goodness.
"I do," she confirmed. "But the flannel thing is still weird."
"I can live with it." He hadn't moved from where he was standing in the middle of the bedroom. Normally, he'd either be romancing her on the bed or heading into the bathroom for a quick shower. He wasn't doing either of those things, simply standing there and looking at her as if she had the secrets of the universe.
Spoiler alert–she didn't, and he knew that. He had something on his mind for sure. Maybe a nudge would help him open up?
"Did anything interesting happen at work today? I know you had a meeting with Jason and Logan."
Budgets, if she remembered correctly. Perhaps business wasn't booming as much as it had been. Was he worried about money? He never had before but there was always a first time.
Jared didn't answer immediately, which had Misty even more curious as to what was going on with her husband. He rarely ducked a direct question.
"Yes, something happened at work today."
Okay, progress.
"Do you want to talk about it? Is there a problem with the business?" A nasty thought occurred to her and she sat straight up, her heart lurching in her chest. "Is everyone alright? Is someone sick?"
His brows shot up and he vigorously shook his head. "No, not at all. Everyone's fine. Shit, I'm not doing this very well."
Sighing in relief, Misty fell back against the pillows. "I can't say whether you are or aren't as I have no clue what it is that you're trying to do."
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a white, legal-sized envelope folded in half. "This came for you today at the office."
She took it from his outstretched hand and examined the item that was clearly bothering her spouse. It looked innocent enough. Her name was on the outside of it, printed in block letters, but there was nothing else. It was sealed, however, so he couldn't have read the contents.
Then why is he acting so strangely?
"An attorney brought it," Jared explained as she turned the envelope over in her hands, studying it. "It's from Adam Reynolds."
Frowning, she dragged her gaze from the letter to her husband. "Adam Reynolds? Why does that name sound familiar?"
"He owns Chipper Shopper plus a myriad of other investments, including a hell of a lot of real estate and land."
"Does he want to commission me? He should go through my agent."
"He doesn't want a piece of art, honey."
She held up the envelope. "Then what does he want?"
Jared rubbed the back of his neck, a grimace contorting his handsome features.
"Apparently, Adam Reynolds thinks he's your father."
Of all the things that could have come out of Jared's mouth, those words were the last that she had expected.
It simply couldn't be true.
"I think you better start from the beginning and tell me every detail."
.
* * *
Misty had listened to Jared's explanation of his meeting with the attorney. Twice. She still wasn't sure that it was real. It couldn't be. Her own mother had told her that she didn't know who Misty's father was. She'd always said that it didn't matter because the two of them were a team. A dad would only be in the way. For the longest time, Misty had believed that and when she was older it didn't matter that much anyway. She didn't miss what she'd never had.
"So you didn't read what was inside?"
He'd come to lie next to her in bed, pulling her against the warmth of his body.
"I would never read your mail."
"It's not real federal government mail. It's an envelope."
"With your name on it. Would you have opened it if the situation was reversed?"
She wrinkled her nose in thought. "Maybe. I'm not sure. If I thought I was protecting you I might. I don't know. It's sealed, so if I did open it I wouldn't be keeping that from you."
"Do you want me to open it?"
A part of her did. Just hand him the letter and let him deal with it. Not the most mature reaction she'd ever had.
"Yes, but I'm going to do it myself anyway because I don't want to think that I'm that chicken shit."
"Listen, you don't have to open it. You can just shove it in a drawer and pretend it didn't happen. Maybe open it down the road. You have the choice here."
"I do have the choice," she agreed. "I don't have to open it. I could just rip it up or burn it."
She could... Then go back to her idyllic existence, none the wiser about the Pandora's Box she currently held in her hands. Opening and reading the letter could change everything, and she wasn't sure that she wanted anything to be changed. She liked her life just the way it was. She was happy and deliriously in love. She had two beautiful children and a lovely home. They were all healthy, too. There wasn't anything that a long-lost father could add to her life. It didn't matter what this Adam Reynolds person had to say. And where the hell had he been anyway when she and her mother had struggled for food on the table? He hadn't been a father then when she'd really needed him. She didn't need him now.
Screw him. He was decades too late. She wasn't going to let some asshole billionaire mess up her happy life.
"I don't need this or him. I'm just going to throw it away."
It landed in the empty trash can next to the bed within seconds. Decision made. She could move forward now. Looking back was a waste of time.
She didn't need Adam Reynolds or anything he might have to offer.
* * *
"I can't believe you did that. You just tossed it in the garbage?"
The next morning Misty was sitting on the couch while talking on the phone with her best friend Rayne. Jared had left for work and she'd dropped the kids at camp before starting a load of laundry and washing the breakfast dishes. She'd wanted some studio time to work but her mind was still on the letter that was sitting in the trash can upstairs. She hated that it was bugging her, so to get her mind off of it she called Rayne.
"What was I supposed to do with it? He's a little late, don't you think?"
"Well...yes, but maybe there are reasons. You won't know if you don't open it."
"You'd open it?"
"I couldn't help myself," Rayne declared. "The mystery would make me crazy. I'd have to read it eventually. Aren't you even a little curious about this man that thinks he might be your father? Just a little?"
"Sure...but...I don't need a father in my life at this juncture. What would I even say to him? I don't even really know if he is my father."
"They have tests for that. A quick swab of your cheek and you could find out."
The test was that easy but the emotions surrounding it were far more complicated.
"I'm just not sure that I want to know. I've gone this long and it hasn't made a difference."
"Then you're a better person than I am. I couldn't not open that letter if only to see what he had to say."
That stupid letter was the reason Misty hadn't slept well last night. She was wishing that Jared had never given it to her.
"How could my mom even have met a man like Adam Reynolds?" Missy asked, her mind darting through her past trying to find even an inkling that her mother Annette might have given her. A stray remark. A name dropped in casual conversation. There was nothing. "He's a big shot CEO and she was poor and worked as a waitress. And if he's known all these years and didn't do anything, then he's a total bastard. Right?"
"I can't argue that," Rayne responded. "He would be an asshole, but you don't know the story."
And Misty wouldn't unless she opened that stupid envelope.
"I don't think a story
exists that would make this scenario okay."
"So read the letter, and then send one back telling him what a horrible person he is. Get closure."
"I don't need closure. At least, I didn't need it until he sent that letter. This is really all his fault."
"If the letter is really bugging you and you don't want to read it, I have to ask this question then? Why haven't you burned or shredded it? You tossed it in the garbage can. You didn't rip it in half or anything. You simply threw it out inches from where you sleep. I might be crazy saying this but that doesn't sound like the action of a person that doesn't want to read it."
Dammit, Misty hated it when Rayne made sense.
Do I want to read it? Maybe. Kind of. I might want to.
"I think...I want the option to read it," Misty finally admitted. "If I want to, you know, at some point in the future."
"That's okay. Keep the letter. Shove it in the bottom of a drawer if you want. Jared was right. This is your choice. You can read it or not read it."
Rayne had a point. Misty had a choice. If she wasn't sure she wanted to read the letter or not, throwing it out might not be the best plan. It had been a knee-jerk reaction last night but in the cold light of day...
"I can't help but wonder what my mother would say about it."
"I can't answer that," Rayne replied. "What do you think she'd say?"
Annette had been a free spirit, not caring what anyone thought about her. She'd lived her life until the end with a passion that frankly Misty could only admire. Never once had her mother apologized for the decisions she'd made. She'd bravely thumbed her nose at anyone and everyone who tried to tell her how to live.
"She'd tell me to do whatever the hell I wanted to and not worry about what anyone else thought."
"There you go. Do whatever you want. In all the years I've known you, you've rarely made the wrong decision. You usually do the right thing."
The right thing? Misty wasn't even sure what that was.
That letter was a real pain in the ass. To open or not to open?
That was the million-dollar question.
3
"I read it."
Three words. Not that many but they changed everything.
When Jared had arrived at home from work, he’d found Misty and the kids in the kitchen having an after-camp snack. He'd gone into the office for part of the day but left before rush hour, anxious to get home to his family. He'd promised Misty that he'd fire up the grill and cook the chicken for dinner.
When he'd opened the door and placed his briefcase down in a chair, she'd hopped up, smiled, and given him a quick kiss. He'd wanted to linger but Lizzie and Nate would have made faces, so he instead grabbed a beer from the fridge. She'd reached around him, her hand brushing his back, for a bottle of juice to refill the kids' glasses. It was then that she'd said it. Quietly. Softly. As if she didn't want the children to hear.
"I read it."
He didn't need her to tell him what it was. He knew what it was. That damn letter. He should have thrown that attorney out of his office yesterday. Shit. She didn't deserve this. Her childhood had been awful enough without having to deal with a maybe-parent that had abandoned her all those years ago. His sweet Misty had made peace with her upbringing and she didn't need anyone digging into a past that was only going to upset her.
Dammit, it was his job to protect his wife. He'd gladly step in front of a bullet for her. That's how much she meant to him. Hadn't his father always preached to his sons about what men were supposed to do? Men were supposed to protect those that they loved and keep them from harm. This letter had come out of nowhere and Jared hadn't been prepared. Now Misty was going to get hurt again. He didn't know exactly how that was going to happen or when, but he couldn't trust Adam Reynolds to be a decent human being. If the asshole had been, he wouldn't have reached out after all this time.
He would have left well enough alone.
Because a man as wealthy as Reynolds had to have checked out Misty thoroughly before he sent that lawyer with the letter. He had to have known that she was fine, and all her needs were taken care of. She didn't need him. She had a family to take care of her now.
"We can talk about it later," he said. "When you're ready."
"I'm ready right now. Let me turn on the television for the kids."
It must be serious if she was willing to place Lizzie and Nate in front of the TV on a weekday afternoon. She liked for them to get outside if the weather cooperated, and if it didn't, she tried to get them involved in a creative activity. Today, however, she turned on cartoons, much to their delight.
She settled into a kitchen chair where they could both see the kids from where they were sitting.
"I thought you threw it away. I thought you didn't want to read it."
Jared should have let her talk, but this entire situation had taken him by surprise.
"I didn't at first," she replied, her gaze darting to the living room where Lizzie and Nate were engrossed. "But I talked to Rayne–"
"She told you to read it?"
He liked Rayne, he really did, but he wasn't happy if her best friend was pushing her to do things she didn't want to do.
"No," Misty sighed with a shake of her head. "She simply pointed out that sometime in the future I might want to read it and that perhaps throwing it away wasn't the wisest course of action. Honestly, I was already regretting it. After I hung up with her, I went upstairs and got the letter from the trash and stuck it in my sweater drawer, all the way at the bottom. For someday. If I wanted to read it."
What in the hell had happened today then?
"I guess that someday was today."
"It was," she agreed, her chin resting in her hands. She was chewing on her lower lip, her gaze far away. "It stayed in that drawer for about an hour."
A whole hour?
"Then just as Rayne predicted my curiosity got the better of me. I might not need a father in my life, but I couldn't shake the question of what he had to say. How could he possibly rationalize not coming forward until now?" She reached into her pocket and pulled out the envelope, pushing it across the table to Jared. "Turns out he didn't even try. It was a complete mea culpa. He says that he's a terrible, awful man that has many regrets in his life and how he's dealt with me is one of his greatest."
Jared's stomach twisted in his abdomen, bile rising in his throat. The nerve of that asshole to reach out to Misty. She had a loving and forgiving heart. Was she thinking of forgiving this bastard? He didn't deserve it.
"He's an–"
"He's dying, Jared."
Dying. The ultimate trump card.
"And you believe him?"
"Why would he lie about it?"
"Because he's lied to you your entire life? Because he wants you to forgive him or whatever he's asking for in that letter? You can't fucking argue with a dead man, right?"
Misty's brows rose and she sat straighter in the chair. "You're really fired up about this. It's only a letter."
"It's more than that," he replied, frustration in his tone. Didn't she see that Reynolds was manipulating her? "I won't let him hurt you, Misty. I won't let him."
Her expression immediately softened. "I doubt that he can. He's a stranger to me, Jared. A complete and total stranger."
"I checked him out, Mist. This guy is human garbage. He's the asshole that other assholes aspire to be. He plays dirty to win. He doesn't care who he hurts."
"He says that in the letter so I would imagine that you're right."
"He's going to play on your sympathies."
"Probably."
"You can't let him."
"Okay."
"You don't seem to understand what I'm saying."
"I do understand. But what you're not understanding is that it's in my control how I react to this. He's not in control here. I am."
Misty was always so calm. Until she wasn't. He'd been on the receiving end of more than a few of her blowups. Deservedly so. He wasn't
an easy man to live with. Luckily, they were few and far between but when she was done...she was done.
She slid the letter closer to Jared.
"I don't have anything to hide. You can read what he said for yourself."
Jared didn't want to read what Reynolds had written. He wanted everything to go back to the way it was before yesterday. When Misty was happy, and she didn't have any painful memories dredged up by some asshole who had been missing her entire life.
He read the letter, of course. Because he certainly couldn't tell his wife that he wasn't interested or that he wasn't pissed off. She knew him well enough to know all of that already. He didn't have to say it out loud.
The letter started out with a greeting from Adam Reynolds and an explanation of who he was. Then to the heart of the matter...
You're probably wondering why I'm writing to you.
I believe that I am your father.
Reynolds hadn't pussyfooted around. He'd come right to the point.
I met your mother when she was visiting her friend Zelda in Denver.
Misty had never mentioned a family friend named Zelda but that didn't mean that she didn't exist.
We became close and I visited several times over the next several months.
Was "close" a euphemism for "sex" or something else?
One day I showed up at the cafe that your mother and Zelda frequented. I wanted to surprise her. Annette was obviously pregnant. She was definitely showing. Like the coward that I am, I backed away before she could see me and left. I didn't want to face up to the responsibility.
A complete and total asshat. Reynolds might run a billion-dollar corporation, but he had the morals of an alley cat. He'd left Misty and her mother to flounder in poverty. That alone made him a son of a bitch.
I'm dying and now face my day of reckoning. I know that I've done many things wrong. Terrible things. I don't know if I can make anything right at this late stage, but I'd like to try. I'd love to meet you and let you call me any name that you deem appropriate. It's the least that I can do. Selfishly, I'd also like to talk with you, Misty. You appear to have turned out to be a fine woman. Annette did a good job.