Broken: The MISTAKEN Series Complete Second Season (36 page)

His eyes widened, the look of rage suddenly gone from his face and replaced with something else. Regret.

My heart was racing, but I knew I needed to finish telling him everything about that night. Because it was clear that he really didn’t know. “I took those pills because your
wife—
the woman who raised me—told me to. Because I was so grief-stricken about my fiancé—my fiancé
who wasn’t even dead
—that I felt like I didn’t want to live. And she didn’t come to me that night to tell me that things would get better. She came to me that night to give me
more
of her pills. To tell me to do it right. To tell me to be a Davis and not do things half-assed. And if that maid hadn’t stayed late that night … if someone hadn’t been cleaning out in the hallway when I almost
died
…
We wouldn’t be having this conversation right now because I would be dead.
”

The look on his face told me everything I needed to know. He had had no idea that Marian had put me up to anything. And by the glazed look in Marian’s eyes, I could see she hadn’t only taken
one
of her “numbing” pills. She’d taken at least two—probably more. I wasn’t the cause of her problems. I had always known it on some level—she had always made me believe that I was, but I knew that it wasn’t me that she really needed to numb herself against. It was
him
. It was my father.

I
almost felt
bad that Daniel’s mother had had to witness the confrontation I’d had with my father that night. She had been through enough of her own difficulties—she certainly didn’t need to have to live through mine. I could only imagine how difficult the past few weeks had been for her—finding out that her only child was still alive. I was lucky, and I knew that. I’d had a while to deal with the shock. It was hard to believe that her husband would need to keep that secret from her, but I didn’t really want to know why. All of that—everything about Daniel and his banishment, fake death … all of it was something I didn’t need or want to deal with.

I was sure that someday all of the facts would come flying at me when I least expected them—least wanted to know about them. But that night, all I wanted to do was to get some sleep. Not having slept in two nights was wearing on me. I didn’t usually sleep well, anyway … well, unless Brandon was with me. I still didn’t understand how or why I was able to sleep if he was just
there
, but it worked better than any sleeping pill ever had for me.

I arrived back at my hotel and changed into my pajamas. I just wanted to curl up in bed—I didn’t want to deal with or think about anything that had happened over the past few days. Any of the weird shit that no one would ever believe, even if I told them. Even Mel wouldn’t have believed it…

I hadn’t really forgotten about her. I had texted her the night before—told her that Ryan had Mason. At least I hoped that I was able to press the “send” button before Brandon had pulled my phone from my hand and tossed it out the window of our speeding car. I thought I had been able to send that message, but she hadn’t replied. There were no missed calls from her on my new phone—no texts and no missed calls from
anyone
. Not even Brandon. Not even Brandon, whose flight should have arrived in Sydney by now. Brandon, who should have at least texted to tell me he was safe.

I pulled the bottle of sleeping pills from my purse—the prescription I still hadn’t even been able to try. It was hard to believe that it had only been a few days since that psychiatrist—that stupid prescription—had caused so many problems in my life. It was overwhelming how much had happened in only a few short days. I had thought my life was such a mess before … and now it was even worse. Even more weird. Even more unbelievable.

I didn’t want to blame that doctor—that psychiatrist who had given me the pills. But if he had just told Brandon who he was, maybe none of this would have happened. We wouldn’t have ended up in Sacramento, and maybe Amanda wouldn’t be dead.

Oh, who was I kidding? My father would have brought Daniel to San Francisco to meet with me if I hadn’t happened to be in town. And Brandon would have found a way to carry out my father’s sentencing of Amanda. There was no one to blame. Everything still would have happened, just not the way it had unfolded this time.

I pulled my phone from my purse and brought it and the bottle of pills over to the bed. I snuggled under the covers and slid my finger across the screen of my phone, opening up my list of contacts. There was only one person I really needed to talk to right now. One person I needed to be sure understood … and one person who I hoped didn’t hate me for what had happened.

I dialed Melissa’s number.

“Jenna? Oh, my God. You won’t believe what’s going on here. I mean, you won’t believe it…”

Hearing the frantic tone of her voice, I wasn’t sure anymore that I should explain anything to her. Or even that she’d want to hear. “Are you okay?”

“Did you hear?” I could hear her sniffling, as though she had been crying. “Amanda’s dead. She killed herself, Jenna…”

My voice dropped to almost a whisper. “I know.” Remembering her body—seeing that woman swinging from her neck … I hoped that Melissa hadn’t had to see it, too.

“She left a note. She left a note, and they think … they thought…” She began sobbing into the phone, unable to complete a sentence.

I wished I was there. I wished I could put my arms around her and hug her.

Her voice was broken, almost unable to speak. “They think she did it before the party even started, Jenna. She’d already arranged for Ryan to get Mason. She planned it—she wanted people to see her. She wanted to be on display like that…” She began sobbing again.

I felt tears sliding down my own cheeks. I knew she didn’t love Amanda—knew she was barely able to tolerate her. But I also knew that I couldn’t tell her the truth. I couldn’t tell her what had really happened. I couldn’t tell her that she was murdered—and that her murder came at the hands of her own brother. At the hands of the man Melissa believed she had a future with. I knew I needed to warn her about Ryan. But I wasn’t sure what I could tell her without telling her everything. I didn’t know how to make her understand how dangerous he was—how her life would probably be in danger, too, if she didn’t get away from him.

I listened to her crying for a few more moments before I tried to talk to her again. “Have you talked to Ryan?”

She sniffled. “No. He isn’t answering his phone.”

I let out a long breath—this was good news. She probably didn’t see it that way, but if he wasn’t there, she was better off. I would have invited her to come stay with me, but I wasn’t sure how long I was even going to be staying in D.C.

“Are you okay, Jenna? Did you make it there? To Virginia?”

I felt a pang in my stomach, an almost guilty feeling, knowing that she was thinking about me at a time like this. I knew she loved me—I knew we had been friends for long enough that even when we were fighting, we still cared deeply for one another. But our friendship hadn’t ever been tested like this. By men, sure. But not usually by men capable of—or willing—to kill us.

I had to measure my words. I needed to be careful of what I told her—I didn’t want her to know about Ryan. Not yet, anyway. “I’m here. I’m in a hotel in D.C.”

She sniffled again—it sounded like she was almost back in control of her emotions. “You’re really going to do it? Stand on a stage with him? After everything he did to you?”

I still hadn’t decided on that. I still believed somewhere inside of me that I was going to get out of it—out of having to be anywhere near him. But the clock was ticking, and I knew I was running out of time. Out of options. “I’m still trying to figure it out, Mel. Only if I absolutely have to.”

“Maybe it won’t be that bad…” She almost chuckled. “Did lover boy come with you? Maybe you can stand between them on the stage. Let them have a duel or something. It would make for great television. Even your mother would have to agree with that…”

I smiled, almost laughing myself. Only Mel could make jokes at a time like this. Only my best friend would be able to come up with something that would make me laugh, even though her own heart was breaking.

“I’m really sorry, Jenna. I’m so sorry.” She started sniffling again. “Not just about the Daniel thing. About us. I haven’t been there for you, and I know you needed me.”

“Mel…” She was a lot more selfless than I sometimes gave her credit for. More selfless than me. Seeing Amanda’s body had been a shocking, horrible experience, but I knew that losing Amanda—losing her job—was so much harder on Mel than it was on me. And here she was consoling
me
…

“I am. I am sorry. I’ve been a total bitch. I started turning into her, you know.” She laughed through her sniffles. “I was turning into Amanda Agostino.” She paused for a long moment. “What do I do now, Jenna? What am I supposed to do?”

I wanted to hug her again. Not that it would have helped, but it might have made us both feel better. “I don’t know. I should be there with you. We both need a hug…”

“Damn right, we do.” She let out a long sigh. “Okay, here’s what we do. We cry tonight. We feel sorry for ourselves. Then tomorrow, we get up and get dressed. We don’t stay in bed and eat ice cream all day. We get dressed and you go to your weird press conference and I go try to find Ryan. And then we’ll figure it out. And if you want me to come to D.C., I’ll be on the next plane there.” She paused again, reconsidering her words. “Well, the next plane tomorrow. You wouldn’t believe how awful I look right now.”

I laughed. It was nice to let it out, and I was so grateful that she was being so self-deprecating. We both had been holding everything in—every emotion—for far too long. And I had missed her.

We talked for several more minutes before we both decided we’d watch old movies and eat ice cream in bed until we cried ourselves to sleep. Only I knew I wasn’t actually going to do any of those things. I had cried enough. I had felt sorry for myself more than enough. And even though I definitely could have cried—probably a river of tears—I knew that it was more important for me to sleep. I only prayed that these sleeping pills would actually work this time.

I popped one in my mouth and swallowed it, not really giving it another thought. I had just pulled up my covers when I heard a knock on the door.

I knew one of the security guards was out there—at least one. I was pretty sure Cade was with Krystal—someday, I knew I was going to need to investigate their relationship further—but tonight, I knew for certain that a guard was posted outside my door. I figured my father didn’t want Brandon showing up uninvited—not that he would have been able to show up if he had actually gone to Australia like we planned.

I turned the light back on and padded over to the door, not even bothering to look out the peephole. I knew it could only be one of two people—and if it was the one I thought it was, he wasn’t coming anywhere near the inside of my hotel room.

I pulled the door open as far as it would go against the chain lock and peered through the slit. It wasn’t Daniel standing there as I had feared it would be. It was my father.

“Jenna, I know it’s late. But can I come in?” The rage I had seen in him earlier was gone—he was the same mellow man I had known my whole life. My dad.

I closed the door, unchaining the lock, and then swung it back open, stepping to the side to let him through.

I pressed my back against the door and waited for him to turn to face me. I didn’t want to venture too far from the door, sure there was still a chance I might need an escape route.

He finally turned to face me. “Jenna, I owe you an apology.”

My shoulders dropped and I let out the breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding. I couldn’t voice any of the thoughts that had been racing through my mind—any of the fears or any of the anger.

Something clouded his eyes—regret, maybe. “I didn’t know. What you said tonight—about the pills. I didn’t know.” He paused, nodding to himself. “That all makes sense, though. Everything you said.”

I felt my head slowly nodding, though I didn’t feel like I was really in control of my movements. My hands were still pressed flat against the door—if there had been something to hold onto, I would have been holding it for dear life.

“Your mother … Marian. I mean Marian. I shouldn’t call her ‘your mother’ anymore. She’s made it clear that she wants nothing to do with being your mother.”

“And you’re just now realizing that?” I had thought that what I felt toward my father was fear. That the anger that I was emoting was just disguised fear—but I knew at that moment I was wrong. I definitely was afraid of him and what he was capable of. But the main feeling I was having—the one thing I was
sure
I was feeling was anger. Almost rage. He should have known these things about Marian years ago. She had never made her feelings about me a secret—it was just now that I knew
why
she felt that way about me, it all made sense. Because I wasn’t really her daughter, it finally made perfect sense why she had hated me so much my entire life.

He closed his eyes for a moment before meeting my gaze. “Jenna, it was a difficult decision. Bringing you home after you were born. It was the right thing to do, and I don’t regret it for a second. I’m sure you have a lot of questions for me about it. About all of it. And I know I haven’t taken the time to sit down with you to explain it all…”

I shook my head. I didn’t want his explanations. His explanations were lies—I knew that
if
he was able to tell me anything that was true about that time, it wouldn’t be the full truth. I didn’t want to hear any more lies or half-truths. When I was ready to hear about that time—to hear about my
real
mother—I didn’t want the information coming from him. I hadn’t even really let myself think about any of it for the past few months, anyway. I was just positive that I didn’t need to hear anything else about it from
him
. And that was where the rage was coming from. From living with a lie for the past twenty-four years. And if there was a lie that huge, I knew there had to be many, many more.

“She wasn’t happy about it. Your mother. She never wanted children. She was raised by a cruel woman and she was sure she would be the same way with her children, and we agreed that we wouldn’t have any. And then when I found out about you…”

I held my palm up to him. “Stop. I don’t need to hear about it. I really don’t.”

He nodded again. “I know. There’s a lot going on right now. I don’t need to complicate it any more than I already have.” He crossed his arms in front of him and rested against the wall across from me. “I’m very glad you came today, Jenna. I thought you might try to do something … something not smart. You did the right thing.”

If anything, his words made the anger inside of me almost boil over. I didn’t need his approval. I didn’t need to hear that he was happy I had done what he asked. My eyes narrowed. “You threatened my life. It didn’t really seem like I had a choice.”

I thought he would laugh, but he didn’t. His look was solemn, almost apologetic. “Jenna, I didn’t mean for it to come across that way. Those men—those two men you’ve been involved with. They each have their issues. They both need to know where they stand with me. But you…” He looked over at me—it was almost the same way he used to look at me when I had finished a piano performance. Almost proud. Almost
fatherly
… “Jenna, you’re my only child.”