Beard Science(63)

Jennifer shook her head. “She wasn’t there. It was just him, ranting at me and telling lies.”

“What do you mean? What lies?”

“He said you were blackmailing him. That he loved me. But that he wanted to save me from you. It was so awful.”

I stiffened, and suddenly my stomach soured. I found I had difficulty swallowing past a mysterious lump lodged in my throat.

Jenn sniffled again. “So I had to leave. I had to get out of there and away from his lies.”

I sat back on my feet and studied her tired face, uncertain how to proceed. Kip may have been lying about loving his daughter, but he wasn’t lying about the blackmail.

“At first, I think he really thought he could bully me into giving you up.” She was staring beyond me, at the fire, talking mostly to herself. “I think he thought I would cave, that I would just keep doing whatever he wanted. And when I didn’t, he lied. And when that didn’t work, he tried to backtrack and guilt me into it, by saying he loves me. He’s sick.”

I had to correct her. If I didn’t, then he’d have the power.

“Jennifer. I have to tell you something.”

“What is it?” Her eyes shifted back to mine. She looked exhausted.

“I am blackmailing your father.”

Jennifer stilled. And then she blinked once, confused. “What?”

“I’m blackmailing him.”

She stared at me, her eyes growing impossibly wide until comprehension made them sharp with betrayal.

“You blackmailed my father?” she whispered, pulling her fingers from mine.

The accusation in her words cut; I had to help her see reason.

“I did. I am. I blackmailed him so he would leave us alone.”

She stood abruptly, limping to the other side of the room then spinning on me. She crossed her arms, wrapping the blanket tighter around her shoulders, glaring daggers of hurt and fury in my direction.

“I can’t believe you. I can’t believe you would do that.”

“I wanted him to leave us alone, to give us his blessing.”

She shook her head, her eyes growing distant and unfocused. “Tell me what happened.”

I stood slowly. “He came to see me at the shop on Monday. He told me to back off. So I told him I wouldn’t. And then I told him that he would give us his unconditional support or else I was going to tell your momma that he’s been cheating on her with Ms. Elena Wilkinson for several years.”

Her mouth opened, wide with shock. It took her several seconds, but eventually she choked out, “The school secretary?”

“That’s right.”

“He’s been cheating on my mother?” Her voice cracked with heartbreak and disbelief. “How do you know this?”

“I have proof. I have pictures and emails, sent between the two of them. They’ve been spending most weekends together, driving into Georgia. They have a place together.”

She shook her head, covering her eyes with her hands. “A place together? I can’t believe this.”

I nodded once, giving her time to absorb this information. Movement at the kitchen entrance caught my attention. Billy and Beau appeared and they were carrying a tray with a ridiculous amount of food. When they caught sight of my expression, they stopped, then began to back out of the room slowly.

Meanwhile, Jenn shifted on her feet and I winced. They were cut and bruised and likely caused her great pain.

“You should sit down.” I moved to help her, but she stiffened, taking a step away from me.

“Don’t touch me.”

Billy halted his retreat, his eyes sharpening as they moved between us.

Jennifer released a shaky breath. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“Because I didn’t want to lose my leverage. If you found out, I knew you’d tell your mother.”

“Damn right I would tell her,” she shouted, clearly furious. But then she sighed and her shoulders slouched, and I watched as the fight seemed to leave her body. “I can’t believe you would do this. I thought—you said you were in love with me.”

Dammit.

Fuck.

Dammit.

“I am in love with you.”

I just wanted to hold her, but every time I took a step forward, she backed away. She needed distance, she needed space, and I needed her.

“No. You’re not. You just want to control me, like my father.”

What?

No.

No, no, no.

I balled my hands into fists of frustration.

Stubborn woman.

“Excuse me.” I barely managed to control my voice. “But that is complete and utter bullshit.”

A spark reignited behind her eyes and it was not a pleasant one. “Really? Because it doesn’t feel like bullshit. It feels like you broke my heart. I trusted you. But obviously you don’t trust me.”

“I do trust you,” I said through clenched teeth.

“But not enough.” She shook her head, her voice breaking on the words. “Not enough to trust that I would choose you over my parents’ disapproval.”

I frowned at her, startled by her claim. In truth, her words hit me straight in the heart and gave me pause. Even truer, dread filled my chest.

I trusted her.

I did.

I trust her. But her parents . . .

“They’ve been controlling you for years, Jenn. And you wanted me to, what? Trust that suddenly their good opinion would cease being the single most important factor in your life? No. I did what I had to do to ensure we would be together.”

“You did what you had to do in order to control the situation.” She pointed an angry finger at me, her face twisted in fury, making my heart feel like it was caught in a vise.

“Fine. Yes. That’s what I did. And I’d do it again. I’d do it a hundred times if it guaranteed that you would be mine and I would be yours.”

Her chin wobbled and her eyes flooded with tears. She wiped them away, huffing a laugh devoid of humor. “Well, you didn’t need to blackmail my father, Cletus. Because I did choose you.”

I frowned, time seemed to slow. “What do you mean?”

“My father gave me an ultimatum before I left. He said I had to choose—you or my family.” Jennifer redirected her eyes to the floor.

I couldn’t draw breath and my pulse strummed quickly and loudly between my ears. I watched her, waiting, fearing her next words.

“I chose you,” she whispered, turning the final screw of the vise as two fat tears left new streaks on her beautiful face. “I chose you over my family, over their disapproval, over everything. I chose you. And you chose control.”

Fuck distance. Fuck space. Fuck fighting. Fuck all of it.

I crossed to her in five steps and reached for her, needing to touch her and do something to remove her hurt. But she twisted away.

“No. Don’t touch me. I don’t want you to touch me. I can’t—I can’t do this.” She lifted her arms as though fighting me off.

I lifted my palms between us, showing her I surrendered. I wouldn’t touch her if she didn’t want me to. But then Billy was there, stepping between us. He tossed a disappointed frown in my direction that made me wince. Then he turned his back on me, gathering Jennifer into his arms giving her a tight hug.

Rationally, I knew I should thank my brother. I should thank him for comforting Jennifer when I couldn’t, when she wouldn’t let me.

Irrationally, I wanted to rip off his arms and legs and beat him to death with them.

She was crying in earnest again, the sound tearing me to shreds. I was a caged animal, listening to the cries of his mate. I was helpless. I hated being helpless.

I hated it.

Billy lifted her, carrying her in his arms up the stairs. I watched them go, took one step to follow and stopped myself. Black spots of fury filled my vision. I tugged my hand through my hair and held my forehead, staring after them.

The edges of my control were shredded and the spiral of darkness—fierce anger—and regret was upon me. My lungs were on fire. I couldn’t swallow. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think.

And I couldn’t stay here.

So I left.





CHAPTER 27


“Suffering is a gift. In it is hidden mercy.”

 Jalaluddin Rumi



~Cletus~

When I left the house, I went straight to the shed and chopped the hell out of some wood. Actually, lots of wood. Lots and lots of wood. Exhaustion followed, but the acrid taste of helplessness remained.

I rubbed my chest, setting the ax down on the stump, and tried to catch my breath. Images of Jennifer’s eyes as she pushed me away, ripe with betrayal and pain, flashed through my mind. I was fixating on the memory. I couldn’t escape it. My heart bled with it. Gushing, an endless torment.

I squinted at the dark field as I heard footsteps approaching from the house. Billy, and he wasn’t being sneaky as he plowed through the grass.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he hollered at me, still several yards away.

“You know what I was thinking. I was out of the boat and wanted to keep it that way.”

“You should have trusted her to make the right decision.”

“Thanks for the advice, Dear Abby. But you’re a day late and a dollar short. I did what needed being done.”

Believing in people hadn’t ever come easily to me. I was by nature suspicious and distrustful, mostly because—if the standardized IQ curve was to believed—the majority of people were idiots.