Sylvia Day: Aftershock

My mouth fell open. “That’s a lie! He had nothing to do with it.”

“The fuck he didn’t!” my brother said curtly. “You would never have done something like this if it weren’t for him. How did you know about the pictures?”

There was no way I was bringing Nico into this. “I have the password for your cloud account.”

He stared at me as if he’d never seen me before. “And you used it? How long have you been invading my privacy?”

“Just tonight.”

“I don’t believe you.”

That cut me deep and hurt. Badly. “It’s true.”

“You could’ve called me. I could’ve tried talking to her. You didn’t have to—”

“It wouldn’t have worked,” I told him flatly. “I would never have threatened her if there’d been another choice.”

“So you went with abusing my trust and putting me in the middle without giving me a heads-up? You cut me out, Gianna, instead of coming to me for help. That’s not the way our family works and you know it.” He jerked his chin at Jax. “That’s the way he handles dirt, not you.”

“There wasn’t enough time, Vincent!” I argued, hating myself for the pain I saw on his face. Something precious had been destroyed and seeing the loss was breaking me into little pieces. “I was going to tell you.”

“Too late.” He faced Jax. “Congratulations, douchebag. You ruined the perfect girl.”

He stalked toward the door.

“Vincent. Wait!” I rushed after him, frantic to mend the first real rift I’d ever had with one of my brothers. I’d never been so scared. My heart was beating so fast I felt lightheaded.

Jax darted in front of me, grabbing me by the shoulders and holding me in place. “Let me deal with this.”

I opened my mouth to argue, then noted the spreading bruise on his jaw. Shock froze my feet in place. “He hit you?”

“Don’t leave,” he said, as if I hadn’t spoken, his attention going to the door when it slammed shut behind my brother. “Understand? Wait for me to come back.”

He went after Vincent.

And almost two weeks later, I found myself still waiting for him to come home.

“HE’S JUST BEING stubborn.” Angelo shook his head and took a long drink of his soda. “You know how Vincent gets.”

“He misses you,” Denise agreed, shoving a cluster of French fries into a pool of ketchup. “Try calling him again.”

“He hangs up as soon as he hears my voice.” I slid my chair closer to the table so that a woman could squeeze by behind me. The diner near my work was packed and we’d been lucky to snag seats.

“But thanks to caller ID,” Denise said, “he knows it’s you before he answers. He could just let it go to voice mail if he really didn’t want to talk.”

I picked at the bun of my hot dog, struggling with a lack of appetite. I’d been on the outs with Vincent for nearly two weeks, and the Rossis had finally decided enough was enough. My mother had called the day before, and Nico had followed up that night. Angelo and Denise hit me up at work to meet them for lunch. I half expected my dad to show up for dinner.

“Gianna.” Denise set her hand over mine. “Come by the loft and see him. Work this out. You’re both miserable.”

“Better yet,” Angelo caught my eye, “move back in. You shouldn’t be living alone in Jackson’s apartment.”

That was the only upside to fighting with Vincent: it’d given me a reason to stay in the penthouse even though Jax had been staying away.

“Is Jackson still calling you?” Denise asked, dunking more fries.

I nodded. “Every night.”

He’d tell me he missed me. He was working hard and didn’t want to bring it home. But he didn’t say more than that, leaving me in an odd place. Had we broken up and he just couldn’t say it? Was he calling just to see if I’d moved out so he could move back in?

That wouldn’t explain why he spoke to me like a lover who was away on business.

Angelo’s lips tightened. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but this is for the best, Gianna. He was changing you into something you’re not. It was never going to work out.”

At night, when I was lying in bed alone, my thoughts followed the same path to the same conclusion. Deanna’s story had never materialized, but whatever she’d said or done to get the story pulled at the last minute got her fired. I had a hard time living with that.

“I love him,” I said. “As much as you love Denise. You might be surprised what you’d do if someone was threatening to spread her personal business all over the place.”

“No, I wouldn’t be. I get that part of what you did. But Jackson’s world is different and you know it. It’s not the life for you,” Angelo insisted, looking for a moment like our father did when he was breaking hard news to us.

I spent the rest of the afternoon at work thinking about what I needed to do to get my personal life back on track. Professionally, things were rolling along smoothly. Chad was comfortable with me again and working well with Inez and David. The design of the launch restaurant had been decided and construction was well under way. Lei stayed on top of things, but didn’t smother me. I still went in to work grateful every day and I shared that gratitude with Jax. The wariness I’d once felt about discussing my work with him was gone. I trusted him to want good things for me.

It was weird in a way. The mess with Deanna had made some parts of our relationship feel stronger than ever and yet we were apart again. I couldn’t figure that out.

I headed to Rossi’s after work. My family was right; it was time to fix things with Vincent.

He was working happy hour at the bar when I came in, but he spotted me straight away, scowling for a moment before returning his attention to the drink he was mixing. His serving style wasn’t the same as Nico’s. He didn’t flirt shamelessly, but he got the same number of girls following him with their eyes everywhere he went. The dark and broody thing worked for him.

I snagged an empty barstool and watched him work. There were a few contenders trying their hand at capturing his attention, but he was eyeing me, I knew, even though he didn’t spare me another glance. The same couldn’t be said about our parents, who couldn’t stop looking our way every few minutes.

When Vincent neared to serve a beer to the guy sitting on my right, I broke the ice and said, “I’m sorry.”

He sucked in a deep breath and straightened his spine. Then he grabbed the five spot tip off the bar, rapped his knuckles on the polished wood in thanks, and dropped the cash in the tip jar. “I’m taking ten,” he told Jen, the gal working the bar with him.

“Got it,” she said, giving me a smile.

Vincent met me on the other side. “Office,” he said, gesturing me ahead of him with an impatient wave of his hand.

It was impossible not to be reminded of Jax when I entered the back office, but I pushed the memory from my mind and faced my brother.

I got to the point. “I need you to forgive me.”

He crossed his arms. “I did that a while ago.”

“You did?” I blinked through the rush of relief that had me leaning heavily against our dad’s desk. “Then why won’t you talk to me?”

“To punish you. Plus, I don’t want to hear any excuses about what you did. If being with Jax means losing who you are, you need to get out.”

“He didn’t have anything to do with how I handled Deanna. I don’t know why he told you that.”

“Because he knows he did.” Vincent held up a hand to cut me off. “I’m walking out of here if you don’t understand this real quick: you dealt with the situation like a Rutledge, not a Rossi, and you learned how to be like that from him.”