True for You(46)

Pulling the flash drive out of my coat pocket, I hold it up. “I have all the backup I need.” There’s a copy of it in my safe at home, too. And a third in a security box at Nashville Credit union  .

“What’s that?” she asks.

“Our guarantee to be left alone.”

“You can do it, Jackson. I have faith in you.”

“I’ll make you proud, baby doll.” Cutting the engine, I open the door and make my way to the front of the house. To be honest, I’m actually nervous. The last time I stood up to my dad, he choked me so hard that I almost passed out. That was barely a month ago.

Ringing the doorbell, I wait for Kathy or Everett to answer. The door opens, and Everett steps back.

“Took you long enough.”

I don’t bother to answer him. Instead, I draw my fist back and hit him in the jaw, sending him crashing to the ground. “Listen to me, old man. I have your flash drive, lots of copies of it, in places you can’t get. If you want those pictures to stay private, here’s what’s going to happen—one, you’ll make this Tara Flowers thing go away. I don’t care how you do it. Just make it happen and make sure she’s well taken care of, from your bank account, not mine. Two, leave Bliss the hell alone. Three, don’t call me, don’t text me, or even email me. Forget that I’m your son, because I’ll be doing exactly that.”

“Some son you are, sending your mother to an early grave,” he says, but I notice he doesn’t get up. Maybe the element of surprise got him. Maybe I finally had enough anger and righteousness on my side to take him down.

I shake my head. “Not anymore. That’s all on you. I’m done.”

Then I take one last look at the house I grew up in and walk out the front door.

Bliss is waiting for me by the car, not in it, but I don’t care. She runs up to me, hugging me tight.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispers.

“But you weren’t there; you don’t know what I said or did.” I smooth her hair down her back.

“I heard what you said, all the way out here.” Tears fill her eyes, but she’s smiling. “You chose us. You chose me.”

I breathe in her lemon and flower scent. “I’d choose you every time. Now let’s get the hell out of here, before Everett has me arrested for assault.”



*** *** ***



Bliss

The next day I go with Jackson to the recording studio. We’re introduced to Patrick and Bean. Why Bean is called Bean, I have no idea, but they both seem professional and knowledgeable.

Inside, it’s darker than I expected, and without any frills, just a soundproof room, with a stool, some chairs, a piano, and a couple of guitars. A few mics hang from the ceiling and there’s one in the center, by the stool.

I stand in the booth, watching as Jackson practices with a tall woman, with dark hair and even darker skin.

“If Winona doesn’t love him, then he’s sunk,” Patrick says, pressing buttons. There are about a thousand of them, all lighting up at different times.

I cross my fingers and my toes, hoping that this Winona loves the crap out of him. They stop singing, and Winona nods.

“Looks like we’re in business,” Bean says.

I clap, smiling so big that I think my face will crack. Finally, Jackson can get on the path to being free, and he’s doing it all on his own.

“Ready to get started?” Bean asks, holding down a button.

“Ready when you are.”

Jackson picks up his guitar and straps it on. He’s wearing dark jeans, brown boots, and a graphic tee with a beanie covering his strawberry blond hair.

The door swings open and a girl walks in, tiny and blond as can be. Jackson does a double take, and so do I. It’s like she’s Violet’s doppelganger.

I swallow, my face growing hot, while my body runs cold.

“Hi, I’m June Carson.” She holds out her hand, and I watch as the man I love takes it, his eyes never leaving her face.

“Jackson Morgan.”

She smiles. “I know who you are. “

He scratches at his jaw. “That makes one of us.”

“We’ll be collaborating on your first single. I’m not a name like you, but I want to be.” She flutters her lashes at him.

“Let’s see what you got,” he says, like she’s a challenge.

Bean and Patrick look at each other. “Score.” They high five each other, while I want to cry. I want to scream.

Jackson winks at June and she smiles, and then turns to look at the booth, piercing my heart with her confident gaze.

They start singing together, their voices winding. “No,” I whisper. They sound better than he ever did with Violet or Callie.