Broken: The MISTAKEN Series Complete Second Season (29 page)

His lips turned up in a small smile. “You’ll get through this, Jenna. It isn’t going to be easy, but you’re a strong woman. You’ll make it through.”

I should have known. My parents wanted me medicated through the funeral—God forbid their daughter should
cry
at a funeral. There would be
press
there, for heaven’s sake. They weren’t worried about my mental stability—they never were.

They were worried about their image, as usual.

6

Y
esterday

I
had made
the mistake of wearing heels that night. They weren’t stilettos by any means, but they were a few inches high, and they were definitely slowing me down. If my ankle hadn’t turned, I might have been able to get away from him. I might have actually been able to outrun him.

I fell into the grass next to me, my ankle throbbing almost as bad as my hand was after hitting him.
I hit him. I actually
hit
him.
My mouth dropped open as the realization of what was going on finally began to sink in—
Brandon killed that woman. Brandon is a murderer.
My heart was racing almost as quickly as my thoughts.

He followed me and was at my side not a second later. I knew he would follow me—I hadn’t hit him hard enough to knock him out, just hard enough to split his skin. I looked up at him and saw blood dripping down his cheek onto his stubble-lined jaw. My stomach flipped with concern for a second until I remembered—
he killed that woman
. And now he was going to kill me. I don’t know how I knew that—I just
knew
it. This was it. This was going to be the demise of Jenna Davis, and it would come at the hands of a man I thought I loved until about five minutes ago.

He reached his arms out to me, to help me up maybe. “Jen.” He winced, almost pained, but not from the bloody cheek. “Christ, Jen, just let me explain.” He raised his hand to his forehead. “Please, Jen…”

I crab walked backwards onto the lawn. Something was definitely wrong with my ankle, but I forced myself backward, away from him. I had to get as far away from him as possible. My heart raced even more quickly when I saw him come after me. I turned myself onto all fours and tried to crawl away, but I knew I wasn’t going to be fast enough. I felt his arms around my waist, lifting me to my feet a moment later.

Tears streamed down my cheeks and I furiously shook my head. My heart was still racing like I’d just won an Olympic sprint. “Let me go, Brandon. I’ll scream—I swear to God, I’ll scream. Let me go…”

He spoke into my ear, and the hot breath that had once melted me into a puddle now sent a river of ice down my spine. “Give me five minutes. Just five. You owe me that much.”

I raised my arm in front of me and swung my elbow into him as hard as I could, right into his belly—the place I hoped was his scar that I knew still hurt him. His hands dropped from my waist and I kicked off the damned heels, racing for the sidewalk. I saw him doubled over in pain from the corner of my eye, making my stomach flip again. I knew I’d hurt him—struck him exactly where I thought I had. But I knew damn well that I wasn’t going to stop and make sure he was okay. I had to get back to that house—had to find Cade, call the police and get the hell out of there. Brandon had been right about that part—I
did
need to get the hell out of there.

“Jenna Davis?”

My legs instantly froze beneath me when I heard that voice, almost sending me flying forward from the sudden stop. I turned to the voice, feeling the heat of my anger rising in me. I saw her perfect blonde hair and my muscles tensed. Of course he had come to the party with Robin. Why else would she be here?

“Oh, Jenna, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for weeks. I owe you such a huge apology…” Her green eyes appeared to be sincere. And I didn’t hear a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “If I had known you were with him…”

“Shut the fuck up, Robin.” Brandon had apparently recovered from his injury rather quickly. I reminded myself to take some sort of self-defense classes when this bullshit died down.

I could almost feel myself twitching with anger. “You don’t owe me anything, Robin. Brandon and I aren’t together and haven’t been in quite a while.”

Her eyes darted between the two of us, almost certainly sensing that something wasn’t right. She finally fixed her eyes on me. “Jenna, I still want you to know I’m sorry. You’ve been through enough in your life, and if I caused you any amount of grief, I want you to know…”

“Shut up, Robin. I told you to
shut the fuck up.
” Brandon’s teeth were clenched and his jaw was so tight, it caused his cheek to start bleeding again.

Seeing him squirm like this would have almost been amusing if so much else hadn’t been going on. I knew he still intended to do
something
with me, but now he’d have to take us both down. It was true that there was safety in numbers. I forced my phony smile and leaned toward her slightly, my voice lowering. “You can have him.”

He grabbed my wrist. “Come with me.”

I wrestled my arm away from his grasp, refusing to move. “No. I need to find Cade. I have a date with a bottle of sleeping pills tonight and I need to get home.”

That statement made Robin smile and Brandon scowl. He turned his head to face Robin, taking my wrist with his hand again, refusing to let go this time. “Did you find a notary?”

She shook her head. “Melissa said she wasn’t one. I didn’t know anyone else there.”

His lip curled into almost a sneer. “Robin, there are at least a thousand fucking people in that house. At least
one
of them has to be a notary. At least one. Go find him.”

My mind was racing to quickly and I spoke before I even had time to think about the words coming from my mouth. I just blurted them out without another thought. “I’m a notary. Are you two signing the pre-nup tonight?” My words must have stunned him and his grip loosened, allowing me to twist my arm away again.

Brandon’s jaw dropped and he stood there motionless.

I saw Robin grin from the corner of my eye. “Seriously? You’re a notary?”

I shrugged, still looking into Brandon’s eyes. “Yes. Before I was
fired
from my last real job for some
inexplicable
reason,
Brandon
, they had me take the class. Their notary had just quit, and they still weren’t sure what they were going to do with me…”

His eyes narrowed and he grabbed my wrist again. “You have the stamp thing with you? I’m not going back to fucking San Francisco with
her
…” He motioned with his head toward Robin.

“Fuck you, Brandon. I have a call to make…” I twisted my arm again, almost desperate to get away from him. I just wanted to go call the police and get
away
.

His whole demeanor changed in an instant. His eyes pleaded with me, almost begging. “Jen, please. This is important. This is for us … for you and me. Please…”

He had always been so hard to read—impossible, really. But I didn’t see even a hint of a lie this time. Not even a drop of anything shady. He was desperate—
he killed that woman
—but there had to be something else. And I didn’t know what it was, but I trusted him for some unknown reason in that brief moment.

I think if he could have dropped to his knees to beg, he would have. “Jen, please. Do you have it with you? The stamp thing? Please…”

I sucked in a deep breath, nodding. “In my car.”

His eyes softened—almost thanking me—and he dropped my arm. He knew he had me. He glared back over at Robin, gritting his teeth before turning to face me again, his demeanor changing once again. Robin did something to him—something that made him into a person I didn’t know or like. “I’ll walk with you.” He reached down to take my hand again.

I snatched it away, crossing my arms over my chest. “Fine.”

He slammed the car door closed and glared again at Robin. We began to walk down the sidewalk to my car, which was still at least six blocks away. He tried to grab my elbow as we walked, but I turned away from him, out of his reach.

“Jen, just listen to me. I’m not going to hurt you.”

I shook my head and glanced over my shoulder. Robin was waiting at Brandon’s car, watching us walk down the street. My car was still a fair distance away, but she would be able to see if he tried to grab me or do anything else. I didn’t feel safe, exactly, but I didn’t feel like I was in immediate danger anymore, either. I just wished that Cade would show up so I could go home. My “date” tonight was with my new sleeping pills, and I was damned well going to need one now if I hoped to get a minute of sleep before I had to leave for D.C.—before my date with my former fiancé for his public resurrection.

I glanced over at him. His cheek was still bloodied and was beginning to swell. I motioned at his face with my hand. “You need to put some ice on that.”

He reached up and touched the side of his face, smearing the blood across his skin. “It’s fine.”

“You expect me to keep your little secret?” I knew I was venturing into dangerous territory, bringing up what I had seen in Mason’s bathroom. But he had to know that I wasn’t about to just turn my back on it. It didn’t matter that I had never liked Amanda—she didn’t deserve to die. No one deserved that.

“I don’t have any secrets, Jen.” I could feel his gaze boring into me, but I didn’t look over to meet it.

I shook my head. “Bullshit. That woman is dead. What in the hell did she do to you to make you want to…?” I stopped. I knew exactly why she was dead and it didn’t have anything to do with what she did to
Brandon
. I felt my heart sink in my chest—my father had put him up to this.
This
was the job.

“I didn’t do it, Jen. You have to believe that…”

“The job.
She
was the job.” I felt tears stinging at my eyes again, but I wasn’t going to lose it. Not this time. “What did she do to him?” I didn’t have to think about it long—I remembered what he had said the previous evening. “She blackmailed him.”

“Jen…”

I stopped on the sidewalk. My bare feet were almost freezing from the cold concrete of the sidewalk and I could feel my ankle beginning to swell from my earlier tumble. But all I could really feel in that moment was disgust. “You told me you never… You said if you had to do something like that you’d find someone because you could never do something like that yourself. You said…”

He dipped his head and crushed his lips against mine. I could tell he was trying to answer my questions, quell my fears with his kiss. But the thoughts racing through my head kept me from feeling anything. I lifted my hands and pushed his shoulders away, turning my head to break the kiss.

My stomach definitely did something—I hated that I couldn’t tell if it was from my disgust or if this was somehow—God forbid—
arousing
me. “Don’t touch me, Brandon. Don’t ever touch me again.”

“I didn’t do it, Jen. I swear on my parents’ graves, I didn’t do it.”

I shook my head and started walking again. We were almost to my car when he grabbed me by the shoulder, spinning me to face him.

“You have to believe me. I said I didn’t do it.”

I searched his eyes. I thought I would be able to tell—be able to see if he was lying, but I couldn’t tell what it was that was there. I knew he wanted me to believe he wasn’t responsible, but I had been there when my father told him to finish his “job.” Somewhere inside of me, I had always known he was capable of this. I had always known that there was more to him than just his “information” business. I knew he did things for people—things they couldn’t or wouldn’t do for themselves. And if my father’s game was “elimination,” I knew that Brandon must be the one carrying out the sentences. It didn’t matter if I couldn’t see the lie behind his gaze—I knew that he was responsible. That even if he wasn’t the one who pushed the chair out from under her to hang her, he was somehow responsible for that woman’s—Mason’s
mother’s—
death.

I opened the trunk of my car where the small box of stuff from my desk at Baxter and Bishop had been all these months. I had never had the need to have any of it in my apartment, so it had just stayed in my trunk all this time. I grabbed the box that had my notary seal in it and began walking back down the sidewalk toward Robin.

“Jen, say something. Tell me how I didn’t know you were a notary…”

“You don’t know anything about me, Brandon. Not a damned thing.” I pressed my lips together when I felt the tears starting to well in my eyes again, willing them to just stay there. I couldn’t let him see me fall apart because it was true—he didn’t know me. And I obviously didn’t know him.

He stepped in front of me, forcing me to stop walking. He put his hands on my shoulders, sliding them down to the tops of my arms. I felt something wet on my cheek and looked up at him to see if he was crying. I felt another drop and another, and knew it was starting to rain.

He squeezed my upper arms and looked into my eyes. “I know I love you. I knew it the second I saw you on that stage in San Francisco, wearing that ball gown that was the same color as your eyes. I knew it the second I heard you play that Mozart piece when I was sitting with my grandmother in that concert hall. I know nothing makes you as happy as when you’re sitting behind a grand piano. I know that your favorite color is yellow, but that you don’t like it unless there’s pink, too. And I know you hate the color pink if there’s no yellow. I love that you’re the only woman I’ve ever met who hates the color pink.”

It started to rain a little harder and I could feel the drops mixing in with the tears that had begun to slide down my cheeks.

“I know you’re scared right now and I know that I can’t explain anything away. I know I fucked everything up. I know it was my fault that this happened. I know that I want to make it right. And, Jen…” He raised his voice only slightly. “I know you want me to, too. I know that I want to watch you fall asleep every night and I know that I want to watch you wake up every morning. I know I don’t want you to find comfort in any arms but mine. I know…”

I couldn’t take it anymore. He always knew the right words to say—always knew how to make it feel better for a moment. But I knew that none of it meant shit—he murdered that woman, and the rainbows and unicorns that he liked to talk about weren’t going to make it better. Not this time.

“Brandon, I know you killed her. Even if you didn’t tie whatever it was around her neck—I
know
you did. I
know
you’re responsible. And I know that she was a bitch, but she didn’t deserve to die. And now, I
know
that you don’t value life the way I do. And I
know
all the promises you’ve made me are bullshit. And I
know
everything you’ve ever said to me was a lie. And I
know
that I would rather spend the rest of my life doing my parents’ bidding—even if it means marrying Daniel—if I never have to see you again.”

Other books

Before It's Too Late by Jane Isaac
Revenge by Lisa Jackson
Laird of the Mist by Foery MacDonell
Whiplash River by Lou Berney
Cult of Crime by Franklin W. Dixon
Paradise Lust by Kates, Jocelyn
I'm Still Here (Je Suis Là) by Clelie Avit, Lucy Foster
I Loved You More by Tom Spanbauer