Toxic (26 page)

Revelations

The sound of the elevator dinging startled me.

As soon as I opened my eyes I saw the light that poured into the room. I must have fallen asleep watching TV.

“Phoebe.” My mother’s voice made me panic.

I quickly scanned the room searching for Dawson. He wasn’t on the opposite couch.
Perhaps he’d left?
In true Dawson fashion, most of the dishes were cleaned up, as were the takeout containers.

I sat up. “Mom, what—”

I froze.

All of the air whooshed from my lungs when I saw she wasn’t alone. Jeremy was standing beside her and he looked like he hadn’t slept. His hair was more rumpled than usual, he hadn’t shaved, and he was still wearing his tux pants and shirt from last night. Even in his haphazard state he was a delicious sight. Yet, the longer I stared, I could see he wore a blank look on his face and that concerned me. My concern began to mount with each stride he took. As he crossed the room his face seemed to morph with a mixture of warmth and anguish. I didn’t understand what was going on. My heart was beating wildly by the time he knelt beside me.

Jeremy took my hand. “I’m so sorry. I should have told you. I wanted to tell you so many times but I could never seem to get the words out.”

I jerked my hand away as I felt the floor shift beneath me. Everything about those words scared me. Was he referring to Avery or something else—something much worse? “What are you talking about?” I somehow managed to ask.

“Phoebe honey, hear Jeremy out.” It was Mother. I’d forgotten about her.

I flicked my gaze toward where she sat on the opposite couch in her perfectly tailored slacks and finely knit sweater. “What are you doing here?”

Looking distraught she answered, “Hunter called me and told me everything he shared with you last night.”

I bristled, not realizing they were in contact. “Still, how did you know I was here?”

She blanched and I knew this couldn’t be easy for her. “When I met with Hunter this week, I asked him about the status of your father’s apartments. He was surprised I knew and told me you were making plans to utilize them for a new project.”

“You met with Hunter?” The breath rushed out of me.

She nodded. “I do every quarter to review our finances.”

Surprised, I sat there feeling lost. “I had no idea.”

Her voice strong, she responded, “I’ve been meeting with the CFO for years.”

I nodded. It made sense.

“Phoebe, Jamie and Jeremy showed up early this morning telling me they’d looked everywhere for you—Lily’s, Mrs. Bardot’s, Emmy’s, your office, and couldn’t find you. Worried, I called the hotel to see if anyone was up here and the front desk told me you were.”

“You knew about this place?” I asked, shocked.

She nodded and tears leaked from her eyes. “Yes, honey. I’ve known about your father’s apartments for a long time.”

I was confused. My eyes shifted between Jeremy and my mother but ultimately, my attention landed on Jeremy. “What’s going on? Why are you here with my mother?”

He took my hand again and this time I didn’t pull it away. I couldn’t. Warmth flooded my veins and I knew then whatever web of malice I had conjured up in my head about this thing between us, was just that, something I had contrived in trying to make sense of the circumstances. But as I looked into his intense blue eyes, I knew it wasn’t the truth.

What we had was real.

He caressed my hand with his fingertips. “Promise me you’ll listen to what I have to say before you react.”

My eyes dropped to our joined hands as my confusion over what Jeremy and my mother were doing here together turned into dread.

“There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it. Hanna Truman is my mother.”

My gaze found his troubled one. Tension coiled tighter and tighter in my belly, as my world seemed to be falling apart around me.

Oh God.

My vision started to blur. Had my father been hiding his mistress for all these years? Was Jeremy my brother? I slapped my hand over my mouth. “Oh God,” I said out loud this time.

Oblivious to my turmoil, Jeremy continued, “And Justin Truman is my father.”

Justin Truman.

J Truman.

Relief.

More relief.

I could breathe at least.

Then realization dawned.

I knew that name.

My eyes darted to my mother, then back to Jeremy.

Bars of early morning sunlight stripped across his face. “My father is the man who orchestrated the first insider trading scandal your father was involved with. Since I was so young when it happened, my mother thought it would be better for me if she divorced my father and changed our last names to her maiden name. There was so much backlash from the trial, she didn’t want me to suffer for my father’s mistakes.”

I swallowed bitterly at the reasoning behind his hatred all those years ago for anyone who had money as I just stared at him, trying to process what he had said. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

He squeezed my hand, his eyes full of despair. “I don’t know. It wasn’t something I was proud of. I never thought about him. I hated him and didn’t want anything to do with him. He wasn’t in my life and I left it like that.”

My mother spoke up. “Phoebe honey, your father is the one who turned evidence against Justin Truman to save himself.”

I yanked my hand away from his. “That’s why you hated my father so much?”

He flinched but nodded in concurrence.

Looking into his grief-stricken face I asked, “So what changed?”

He hesitated. “I’m not really sure. I guess I matured and accepted my father’s sins were his own.”

Confusion clouded things and I fought off the anger. I could accept the fact that he hadn’t told me that summer; after all, I had lied about who I was. “Why, after you knew who I was, wouldn’t you have told me everything when we first got back together?”

“It hasn’t been that long,” he countered.

“Long enough to tell me we were connected in some deep-seated way,” I replied tightly.

“I was going to tell you, when I thought the time was right and you could handle it.”

Aghast, I couldn’t believe he thought I was that weak. “So while you waited, you lied.”

His sigh turned harsh. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes. You. Did.” My words were sharp like glass. While he was trying to stay calm, I could see he was struggling. His brooding side was peeking through and making an appearance. I, on the other hand, didn’t try to suppress mine.

The muscles in his jaw twitched. “I just hadn’t told you yet; that’s not lying.”

His words stung. I had lied. Told him my last name was Saint. I shoved that thought away. “Was this”—I pointed between us—“some sick game of revenge? Is that why you didn’t tell me?”

He stared at me in disbelief.

“Phoebe, honey. Let us finish,” my mother spoke up.

Suddenly all I could see was a haze of red. I stood and picked up one of the plates on the table and slammed it down. “Was it? Say something, Jeremy!” I shouted.

Scowling, Jeremy stood and replied tersely, “I can’t believe you’d even think that.”

Tears fell down my cheeks and regret shrouded me. We were both so insecure about our relationship. I had done the same to him once—lied about who I was because I was afraid he wouldn’t accept me. Was that what he was doing? I could almost understand it if it was. Or was there more to it? I stared at him looking for the truth. Looking out for a lie. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

He stepped so close I could feel his breath on my neck. “Yes, you do. I know you do.”

Dazed, I finally nodded. “I still don’t understand. There’s more to this. Why would my father have bought your mother a condo? And why did he donate fifty thousand dollars to Stanford the summer you went there?”

I wanted to believe him.

I did.

But it still didn’t make sense.

Jeremy’s face went utterly blank and I knew he had no idea what I was talking about.

My mother cleared her throat. “That’s why I’m here, honey—to help explain some things.”

My stomach jumped nervously as I slowly turned to look at her. What else was there hidden away?

She fidgeted with her necklace. “Hanna and Justin traveled in the same circles as your father and I, and over the years, Hanna and I had developed a close friendship. You could say we were best friends.”

My mother had a best friend I never knew about?

“Even after she moved away, we kept in touch. Phoebe.” She put her hand on my knee. “It wasn’t your father who did those things. It was me.”

“You?” I was in shock.

She reached into her purse and pulled out a hankie, dabbing her tears with it. “Hanna was my best friend and when her husband went to jail, her life was torn out from under her. I had to help her. Her mother was ill and losing her house, so I helped her in the only way I could.”

“By throwing money at her,” I spat.

“She needed help, Phoebe. Sometimes money is the only thing that can do that.”

My gaze darted to Jeremy’s. “Did you know about this?” Except I already knew he didn’t. I could see it in his face.

“No.” He seemed to have gone somewhere in his mind.

More tears clouded my vision. “What about Stanford?” I asked both of them.

Jeremy blinked a few times and appeared to become more alert and his body filled with tension as he narrowed his stare on Poppy.

Poppy closed her eyes. “Hanna called me that summer the two of you met and told me Jeremy had been talking to her about a girl he was spending time with—a Phoebe Saint. She guessed who you were and I confirmed her assumption—I’d seen the two of you together. Hanna had spent so much of her life shielding her son from the truth and she feared if the two of you stayed together, it would be made public. She didn’t want that for him. So she asked me to help her one last time. She wanted Jeremy to go to California. She offered to sell her condo and pay me back. But I owed her. I owed her more than that. You know your father was not an innocent. Justin may have very well gone to prison without his testimony, but he still aided in putting him there to save himself.”

The intensity of Jeremy’s gaze settled on Poppy. “So you paid for me to go to grad school? I didn’t receive a scholarship?” His voice was gruff and my heart bled for him.

Poppy pulled in a shaky breath. “I did, but please don’t be upset.”

“How could my mother have asked that of you?” he asked tightly.

“Don’t be upset,” she repeated. “Hanna did it for you. She only wanted what was best for you.”

“Did she?” he asked bitterly. “Or what was best for her,” he retorted in anger.

“No, you know that’s not true,” my mother soothed.

It all came together then. My mother’s drunk-driving arrest had taken place at the very same time. She must have been upset about all of this.

“Hey, Phoebe, I’m going to order room service. Do you want anything?” Dawson was walking into the room with his head down.

Oh no.

Watching in horror, I saw Jeremy’s features twist as he assumed the wrong thing. He jumped back, tension rolling off him in waves as he glared at me. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Dawson,” my mother said in surprise.

My gaze darted to Dawson, who looked way too smug for the situation we were in. Worry overtook me and when my knees started to tremble, I had to grab the arm of the sofa for support.

Silence swelled in the room as we all stared at one another.

“What happened to your face?” Poppy asked Dawson, cracking it.

Dawson cleared his throat and started striding toward me.

My throat went dry and I finally dared to steal a glance at Jeremy.

His eyes burned with fire. He had already been teetering in the face of overwhelming anger and this situation only seemed to push him over the edge. “You didn’t waste any time, did you?” He glowered.

Hesitantly, I took a tentative step toward him. “It’s not what you think.”

“Looks like we’re both using those words today.” His mouth twisted with bitterness.

I ran my hands up his chest. “Jeremy, it’s not. Let me explain.”

He shrugged me off, and then strode past me as he headed toward the elevator.

“Jeremy,” I yelled.

Dawson jerked forward. “Let him go.”

“No,” I barked.

He made a move as if to grab me but I held my hand out for him to stay where he was. “Be smart, Phoebe. See this for what it is,” he pleaded.

I ignored him and ran after Jeremy. I caught up with him just as the door opened. “Jeremy. Please. Listen to me,” I pleaded.

Jeremy glared at me with that same flat stare he had done the morning I woke up in his bed. “I’m done listening to you and done trying to explain.”

The doors started to close and something inside me told me this time, I had to fight for him. I stopped the doors with my hand and stepped in. He just stared at me with those intense, cold eyes. I knew the demeanor well. I had experienced it from him before.

I stepped closer. “I’m not letting you walk away from us.”

“Good thing it’s not your choice.” His voice was cold as ice.

At that moment, I had to wonder if his heart was too.

I frowned at the chilliness pouring out of him. “Jeremy, just listen to me. Dawson only came over to help me.”

His hand hovered over the buttons. “Get out now or take a ride down. It’s up to you. I really don’t fucking care.”

I moved to the back of the car. Resolute.

I wasn’t going anywhere.

“Suit yourself.” He pressed the
L
button and leaned against the wall. Everything about him was hard.

It would have scared me if I hadn’t seen it before. It was his coping mechanism. My response had always been to flee, but no more. I was going to stand and face his wrath and make him talk to me. I didn’t care. I spoke to his back. “Jeremy.” My voice was soft and when he didn’t acknowledge that I’d spoken I continued on anyway. “We have to find a way to learn to trust each other.”

He was clearly pissed off.

But I was determined. “We have to stop this poisonous reaction to things that aren’t what they appear.”