Lightning Strikes (The Almeida Brothers Trilogy #3) (31 page)

Jack swallowed.  “I won’t.”

Chase let that response linger for a while before he leaned on the island, crossing his arms and legs at the ankle.

Finally, he smirked at Jack.  “I spoke to Grams.”

Jack sighed and cut his eyes at Chase, lifting a brow.

Chase lifted a brow of his own.  “Who is Nina?”

***

“I’ve been trying to think of ways to fix it.  A million different ideas hit me all at once, but none of them would be as effective,” Jack said, nearly an hour later, over the kitchen table.  They’d ordered take-out from their favorite Chinese restaurant and had demolished several dozen canisters of greasy, saturated fat laden entrees while Jack recounted the entire story of the madness he’d gone through with Nina.  “It’s the only way to get her back.”

“Would Kyle even
put
you on the stand?” Chase asked. “Knowing you’re going to testify in favor of the prosecution?”

“I’ll handle Kyle.”

“So do it.” A piece of orange chicken hung onto the chopsticks Chase cradled in front of his lips for dear life.  His green eyes searched Jack’s, sensing hesitation.  He sighed.  “Look.  Do you love her?”

Jack nodded.  “Yeah. I do.”

“Then what else is there to talk about?”

“What else is there to talk about?  There’s a reason I fought tooth and nail, and spent an obscene amount of money to keep this thing from moving forward for so many years.  It wasn’t to protect Dad.  It was to protect our estate.”

“Can you protect one without the other? The estate
we
inherited is money made off the backs of the kids he hurt.”

“Some of it was made off Mom’s back, too.  That’s her money, too.  She didn’t hurt anybody.”

“Is that going to help you sleep?” Chase asked.  “Is that going to get Nina back?”

“The trial is in a week.”  Jack dropped his chopsticks and leaned back in his seat.   “If I do this… It won’t just be my piece in danger.  They could come after yours, too.  I’ve done everything in my power to keep yours out of it… but I can’t promise it’s untouchable.  My money.  Your money.  This house.”  Jack nodded toward the ceiling, looking around the house they’d grown up in.  “It could all go.”

“Is this house that important to you, Jack?  Do you plan on raising your kids in this house?  I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell don’t.  If you weren’t still living here, I’d be just fine if I never laid eyes on this godforsaken place again.”

Jack chuckled, drinking in all the old corners of the brownstone, all the original fixtures, all the little nooks and crannies that they’d endured throughout their lives.

His eyes lingered on the piano in the far corner of the living room.

Chase followed his gaze, saw what he was looking at, and shot Jack wounded eyes.  “Why are you holding onto this, man?  Why are you fighting for this?”

Jack’s eyes grew gradually wider as he watched the piano.  “I’m fighting for you,” he whispered, unaware that his voice was shaking until the words barely came out.  His wet eyes met Chase’s.  “I’ll never stop fighting for you.”

“This isn’t my fight, Jack.  Not anymore.  I couldn’t give a shit about that inheritance.  I couldn’t give a shit about this house.”

“And Lila?”  Jack asked, searching his eyes.  “Could she give a shit about the money that will eventually be hers?”

Chase clenched his fists.  His eyes fell to the left fist, where a silver band gleamed.

“Or perhaps it already is,” Jack said.

Chase clenched tighter, still staring at his ring finger.  “We eloped last night.”  He kept his eyes down for a moment longer, and then finally found the will to look at Jack.

“Your new wife married a man who is set to receive thirty million upon graduation,” Jack said.  “If I do this, you might not be that man anymore.”

“I’m the same man today that I was yesterday, and I’ll still be that man tomorrow, and for the rest of my life.  She didn’t marry me for the money.” Chase dropped his chopsticks and lowered his voice.  “Just like you’re ready to lose it all for Nina, Lila would lose it all for me.  And I would lose it all for her, just like I would lose it all for you.  You know why?” Chase leaned in close, his eyes coming alive.

Jack searched those eyes, still leaning back in his chair, the tears nearly tumbling from his eyes.

“Because if money could fix us… it would’ve done it a long time ago.”

Jack blinked, jolting when a tear left his eyes.

“Money won’t fix you, Jack.  The hurt won’t fix you.  The anger won’t fix you.”

Jack covered his mouth with his hand, digging his fingers into his cheeks.

“So fuck that money,” Chase whispered.  “Fuck this house.  Fuck all of it, Jack, and do what you have to do to keep the woman you love.  Because if you let her walk away, guess what? He wins.”

Jack watched Chase for a long while, food on the table ignored before he finally took his first real breath.  “Thank you, Chase.”

Chase snatched up his chopsticks, went to dive into the orange chicken, and then hesitated, shooting him a look.  “I love you.  Even if we’re poor as shit once this is all over.  I will always love you, Jack.”

Jack smiled, lowering his eyes as a blush hit his cheeks.  “I love you, too.”

“Always.”

“Always.”

***

A week later, Jack felt like a famished man.  Though he had access to all the food and water he needed to live, he still felt like death was upon him.  He’d known a week ago that living without Nina was something he simply couldn’t do.  That truth was only intensified with each day that passed.  Each day that brought this trial closer to inception.  Each day he only managed a few hours of sleep because he yearned for the feel of her in his arms.  He would get on another ill-fated flight in a second—he would get on one
today
—if he knew it would mean another two weeks “stuck” with her.  He’d do it for a lifetime, just to keep her by his side.

The courthouse lobby was bustling that Friday, with suits and skirts desperate for the weekend to come, hustling through.  They seemed to surround Jack, multiplying like ants as he frowned at Kyle Stanley.

“While I’m thrilled that you changed your mind about testifying…” Kyle’s dull blue eyes were squinted into a frown as he wrestled with Jack’s orange tie, his thin bottom lip trapped under his crooked tooth. “You should’ve gone with blue.  Blue makes you seem trustworthy.”

Jack’s eyes zeroed in on Kyle’s jangled tooth, amazed that it seemed to own his entire mouth, before letting his gaze travel up his round face, acne-prone in a way that would put a teenager to shame.

“Orange provokes pity,” Jack said, watching him blankly.

“False.”  Kyle finished straightening the tie and slapped the side of Jack’s arm.  “Orange provokes
hostility
.  Not to mention it’s just an insipid color to put on a tie.  But that’s another conversation.”

Jack straightened his black suit jacket while his eyes veered over Kyle’s shoulder, zooming to the doors of the courthouse as they opened.  Sunlight spilled in from outside, rendering the chandelier above the door useless, and his mouth dropped as Nina stepped through, encased with light like the angel she was.

Dressed in a smart grey pantsuit with her hair pulled in an immaculate bun, she looked the most pulled together he’d ever seen her.  He longed to remove the band from that bun and free her curls.  To remove that jacket and tie a knot into her white silk blouse.  He wanted to see that adorable belly button.   To kiss it.  Lick it.

Jack’s mouth fell open, hardly able to control himself at the sight of Nina dressed to the nines, and what it meant.  It displayed how badly she wanted this, making him feel all the more terrible that he’d taken it from her for so long.

Andrew Kramer, one of the top criminal prosecution lawyers in Manhattan, with slick blonde hair and an even sharper suit, met her at the door.  They shook hands, and Jack almost laughed at the shot of resentment that coursed through him.  Even an innocent handshake left him feeling ready for war.  He knew Andrew well.  Undefeated in the courtroom.  The only man alive more arrogant than Jack.  A bachelor with a reputation.   Surely Andrew already had plans for Nina outside of that courthouse, and for that alone, Jack wanted him dead.

He was pulled back to the present when Kyle snapped in his face.  Jack cringed at him.

“One more time,” Kyle insisted, his eyes going wide.

“I don’t need one more time,” Jack said.  “Once upon a time I was your superior, wiping the shit off your ass, cleaning up after every infantile dilemma you left in your wake.  I can handle this.”

Kyle lowered his head, gazing at Jack from under his eyes.  “We can end this today.”

“I’m aware.”

“Just make sure you get on the stand and give your father a glowing testimony.”  Kyle’s voice went monotone. “He was a
great
man.  An outstanding surgeon.  Awards and accolades a mile long.  A pillar of his community who made many generous charitable contributions.”  Kyle snapped a finger.  “When you speak about the contributions, be sure to highlight the children’s charities above all else.  St. Jude's, Make a Wish, March of Dimes…”

Kyle’s voice faded away until Jack heard nothing at all, his eyes going back over his shoulder.  He caught sight of Nina just as she tucked her tear filled face into Andrew’s shoulder.  Andrew embraced her, letting her wet his suit jacket with her tears, his own eyes closed serenely.

Jack’s blood went hot, his fists clenched, and when his eyes burned, filled, he couldn’t tell if the tears were of hatred or agony.

Either way, he knew he wanted that feeling gone.

And as he watched Andrew lead Nina into the courtroom, he knew she was the only person alive who could make it disappear for good.

***

The judge had always reminded her of Santa Claus.  Even as the years passed, and this trial stretched on and on, his cheeks only grew rosier, his demeanor more jolly, and his belly more jiggly each time she saw him.

He was the perfect contrast to her because Nina had never felt farther from jolly in her life.

As Kyle Stanley, the defense council, stood at the table across from her, she had to swallow back an annoyed scoff.

“Your honor,” Kyle said.  “I’d like to call Jack Almeida to the stand.”

Nina nearly fell out of her seat as murmurs filled the room.  Her eyes shot to her lawyer, Andrew Kramer, who was already giving her a look that told her to calm down.  His dark brown eyes had always looked odd to her alongside his platinum blonde hair, but damn if he didn’t give the best side-eye known to man.  That look always shut her up in an instant.

She clenched the edge of the prosecution table and turned toward the back of the courtroom.  Her parents smiled and waved at her from their seat in the first row of the pews, but her eyes were riveted to the double doors, as they swung open.

Jack stepped through, a vision as always, moving with a swagger that either inspired or annoyed.  As he moved, he unbuttoned his jacket, letting it float behind him while his other hand remained squarely in his pocket.  His gaze locked onto Nina’s, and she turned away with wide eyes.

“It was a last-minute addition,” Andrew explained before she had the chance to shoot him an accusatory look.  He scribbled a few more things onto his pad before he leaned forward and met her eyes.  “I’ll handle it.  Relax.”

Relax!  Her eyes shot back to Jack just as he swept through the small double doors between the prosecution and defense tables.  His eyes remained on her as he moved, and this time, she couldn’t look away.  He craned his neck to hold her gaze, and he only broke contact when it was physically impossible to move toward the witness stand and look into her eyes at the same time.

“I’m going to throw up,” Nina mumbled.

“You’re fine.”

She cut a look at Andrew.  He was the best prosecutor in the city, and he knew it.  She found him haughty and borderline unbearable.  If he weren’t on her side, choking him to death would be an urge she’d find difficult to resist.

Andrew whispered in her ear.  “Kyle has made the biggest mistake of his life putting Jack Almeida on the stand.  I will destroy him.”  His voice went lower.  “We just won this case.”

Jack knew what he had to do.  After stating his full name and taking his oath, he sat down in the witness chair.  Taking a second to give the white-haired judge a smile—not too loose but not too tight, either, he moved his eyes to Kyle, who was circling the defense table.  Kyle approached Jack with a slow stride, his hands clasped and eyes labored to the floor with mock worry.

Jack sighed, already annoyed with the theatrics.  Kyle had an annoying habit of putting on a show.  Why the hell couldn’t he just get on with it?

“Mr. Almeida,” Kyle finally spoke, leaning against the witness stand while throwing the judge a smile of his own.  Unlike Jack, Kyle didn’t have the good sense to practice his fake smiles in the mirror, so it came off more sinister than pleasant.  “What was your relationship to Dr. Dominic Octavio?”

Jack adjusted the microphone so he wouldn’t have to lean forward to reach it.  “He was my father.”

“So, one would say that you knew him well.  Correct?”

Jack blinked.  “Yes.  He was my father.”

Kyle and Jack shared a look.  From the tone of his voice alone, Jack already wasn’t sticking to the script.

“And what kind of man would you say your father was?” Kyle asked, turning away from him.

Even though he’d moved the microphone, and knew everyone could hear him clearly, Jack leaned forward so his voice would boom.  “He was a terrible man…”

Kyle swiveled, turning back to Jack rapidly, his eyes wide and ripe with shock.  Gasps filled the room, giving Kyle’s sudden turn a little extra oomph, and when Jack’s eyes went to Nina, he saw her mouth had fallen open too.

Holding her gaze, he said it again.  “He was the worst thing that ever happened to me.  And the worst thing that happened to these kids.”

Kyle bared his teeth at Jack, snaggletooth and all.  For a moment, Jack was sure he was about to lunge over that stand and take him around the neck.  They had a silent discussion, a heated one, and it was several moments of silence before Kyle stepped forward and clutched the stand in both hands.  His knuckles were cherry apple red.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Almeida, I believe you misunderstood the question.”

“I didn’t misunderstand,” Jack said.  “You asked me what kind of man my father was, and I told you.  A terrible one.”

Even Andrew Kramer shifted in his seat.  He squinted shrewdly, trying to figure out what the hell was going on—if this was some kind of elaborate play by Kyle that was, by some miracle, going to come full circle and hurt him.  When Nina looked at him, all Andrew could do was shrug.

Jack watched them, and then lazily moved his gaze back to Kyle, who was now giving the stand all of his weight, panting.

The silence that followed was so long and thick that the judge had to speak up, asking Kyle if there were any further questions.  Kyle looked up at the judge, then back to Jack, then up at the judge again, before pushing away from the stand.  This time, he gave Jack his back.

“Mr. Almeida,” Kyle said, his voice a few octaves higher, and a lot shakier than it had been a moment before.  “How many siblings do you have?” He swung around and met Jack’s eyes.

Jack took a deep breath.  Now it was Kyle who was going off script, and Jack understood he was about to go to war.

When his eyes returned to Nina, and he saw the depth in her eyes as she looked back, he knew he was ready.

He was ready for battle.

He swallowed.  “I have a brother.”

“Younger?” Kyle asked.  “Older?”

They both knew the answer, and Jack couldn’t help but wonder where this was going.  “Younger.”

“And what is your younger brother’s name?”

“Chase.”

“And your parents, where are they?”

“Dead.”

“What happened?”

“Car crash.”

“And how old was Chase when your parents passed away?”

“He was twelve, going on thirteen.”

“And when your parents passed away, who took care of Chase?”

“I did,” Jack answered.

“And what steps did you take to ensure Chase remained in a stable home?”

“I applied for, and was granted, permanent guardianship.”

“So you raised him?” Kyle asked.

“Objection, Your Honor.” Andrew jumped in.  “Leading.”

“Sustained.”

Kyle smiled.  “Thank you, Your Honor.  I withdraw.  Mr. Almeida.  Who raised Chase after your parents passed away?”

Realizing where Kyle was going, Jack nearly laughed.  From the big, emotional eyes of every person in that room—including Nina—he knew Kyle’s plan was smart. 

“I suppose I raised him,” he responded.  “Though, if you asked him, he might have a different answer.”

“And what university were you enrolled in at the time?”

“Objection,” Andrew beamed, also having realized what Kyle was up to.  “What does this have to do with anything?”

“I have a point, Your Honor.”  This time, when Kyle smiled at the judge, it seemed almost genuine.

And it worked.  Begrudgingly.  “I’ll allow it, Mr. Stanley. But there better be a point… and fast.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.  Mr. Almeida, I’ll repeat.  What school were you attending when you took guardianship of your twelve-year-old brother?”

“Harvard Law.”

Kyle whistled.  “Harvard Law.  Wow.  Seems like an enormous undertaking for any man, let alone a man who’d just suffered the loss of his parents, saddled with the care of his younger brother.”

“I wasn’t saddled. It was never a question.” Jack felt annoyance coursing through him as every head in the room nodded their agreement, giving him sympathetic eyes and smiles.  His breathing hitched.  In the back pew, closest to the door, he locked eyes with Chase.  As soon as Chase’s wounded green eyes shrunk, Jack’s did, too.  He fought back the tears that rose to his throat before his eyes went back to Nina.  Leaning forward on the prosecution table with her hands over her mouth, she appeared just as emotional as Chase.

“Chase is my blood.”  Jack reiterated.  “I wasn’t saddled in the least.”

Kyle continued as if he hadn’t heard.  “And how did you fund your schooling at Harvard?”

“With money from my parent’s estate.”

“The very estate that’s also paying for Chase’s education, is it not?” Kyle motioned to Chase, causing every head in the room to turn and gaze at him.  Chase shifted, clearly uneasy about being used as a pawn in Kyle’s game.

Jack sighed.  “Chase is very capable.  Even if he didn’t have the money, he would find it.  He would find a way.”

“Regardless. Your parents left you both this money so you could continue living the comfortable lives you’ve grown used to living, just like any good parents would do, right?”

“Right.”

“So, perhaps your father isn’t the terrible man he’s been painted as.”

“Objection!”  From the tone of his voice, Andrew was now bored of Kyle’s games as well.

“I’ll rephrase.”  Kyle’s smile was patient.  “Mr. Almeida, what kind of
man
was your father?”

Jack met Kyle’s eyes, took a deep breath, and leaned forward.  “My father was a good man.”

Surprised gasps filled the room.  Even the judge shifted in his seat.

Jack nodded, avoiding Nina’s eyes.  He knew he wouldn’t be able to handle what he saw in them at that moment.  He hoped she’d understand why he was doing this.  “He was a renowned surgeon.  Awards and accolades a mile long.  He was a pillar in his community.  He made many generous charitable contributions.”

Kyle nodded as Jack spoke, his eyes growing wide—almost manic—when Jack repeated the words he’d briefed him on in the hallway, word for word.  Jack could almost see the dollar signs twirling around in his eyes.

He leaned into the mic.  “He was a proponent of children’s charities above all else.  St. Jude's, Make a Wish, March of Dimes…”

Kyle’s nodding grew faster, the smile on his face more deviant.

Jack smiled too.  “He was a good man who always made sure he was home every night for dinner.  Making sure my mother got everything just right.  Just the way he liked it.  Even though she worked just as many hours as he did, she was, nevertheless, expected to have the house spotless, the kids fed and bathed, and good food on the table.”

Kyle’s smile wavered.

But Jack’s broadened.  “He was a good man who loved classical music.  Partial to Beethoven;  he taught me to play on the piano in our house.  He would sit behind me in his recliner, rocking slowly as my fingers trickled over the ivories, the melodies of
Moonlight Sonata
or
Fur Elise
floating into the cold air of our brownstone…”

Even Andrew was frowning now, leaning back in his chair with a pen between his teeth.  He seemed at a loss as to whether or not he should let Jack continue.

Kyle opened his mouth to speak.

But Jack beat him to the punch.  “He was a good man who expected nothing less than perfection.  He was a good man who kept count of every stroke of the ebonies I missed, every tap of the ivories I confused, and every note that I fumbled, even as sweat fell from the tips of my fingers in my desperate quest for utter perfection.”

“Uh…” Kyle stumbled himself.  “Mr. Almeida—”

“He was a good man,” Jack jumped in, squinting at Kyle.  “Who couldn’t wait for his son to mismanage the most demanding compositions ever
written
so that he would have an excuse…”

“I have no further questions, your honor,” Kyle said, his frantic eyes going to the judge.

“He was a good man…” Jack’s body shook from head to toe as he leaned on to witness stand, his blurry vision barely able to see the horrified faces before him.  “Who had a left hook for every G too sharp.  A black eye for every B too flat.  A fat lip for every incorrect finger.”

“I have no further
questions,
your honor, and I move to strike every word Mr. Almeida says henceforth.”

“Mr. Almeida,” the judge sat forward, trying to catch Jack’s eyes.

But Jack’s eyes were riveted to Kyle, his chest heaving.  “My father was a good man, who never saw a day without a drink.”

“Mr. Almeida,” the judge’s voice rose.

“My father was a
great
man,” Jack cried, the break in his voice bouncing off the walls of the courtroom, which had gone eerily silent.  He jammed his finger at Nina and Andrew.  “Who took a scalpel to the chests of children, knowing damn well he had more alcohol in his veins than blood!”

Even the judge had to take a moment, leaning on the edge of his seat, eyes wide.  “Mr. Almeida, I’m afraid if you continue, I’ll have to hold you in contempt.”

Jack’s eyes went big.  “I made my brother give him the keys to that Porsche while he was four times over the legal limit because he was the kind of man who loved nothing more than to leave me black and blue, night after night, hardly able to stand on my own two legs.  He was the reason my brother wet the bed until he was ten.  I wanted those keys in his hands because I knew he’d crash.  He wasn’t even on the road for ten minutes before the Porsche was up in flames, killing himself, and my mother.”

Ruffled, the judge waved for the bailiff.

From where he’d collapsed onto the defense table, Kyle jammed his eyes shut, covering his mouth with a trembling hand.

“Am I a righteous man?” Jack’s voice lowered to a whisper.  “No.  Because a part of me put those keys in his hands with joy in my heart. I put those keys in his hands, day after day, year after year—even when my brother begged me not to—
praying
he would crash.  Praying he would burn.”

A quiet gasp filled the walls.

“I’m glad he burned,” Jack spat. “I’m glad he’s dead.”

The bailiff, who’d been slowly moving toward the stand stopped, shooting the judge a look.

“And I would do it again.”  His eyes went to Nina.  “Because my father, breathing his last breath means there’s some kid out there who will breathe a million more.  Even if I couldn’t save my mother, or my brother, or myself… at least I saved someone.”

Jack’s wet eyes searched the room, and he was met with the thing he hated most.  Pity.  Downturned lips and shrunken eyes, straight spines and tightly clasped hands.

His eyes went to Nina, and when he saw her crying, his resolve was broken.  “I’m sorry, Nina.”

Nina straightened, breathing deep through her flared nostrils.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t do it sooner,” he said to her before standing from the bench, stumbling down to the floor, and making his way toward the doors.  He swept by Nina without a second look, unable to stomach the pain in her eyes.  He even dodged Chase’s eyes, and his outstretched hand, in his desperation to get the hell out of there.

Slamming his hands into the swinging doors of the court, he made his escape, feeling freer and lighter than he had in a long time.

***

The shocked silence stretched on long after Jack had gone.  Stunned, Nina leaned forward on the defense table with her hands over her mouth.  Across the way, Kyle was collapsed in his seat, looking bewildered in a way that was only possible when a lawyer realized he’d lost.  Every witness in the pews choked back thick swallows and exchanged quiet looks.