Chapter 45: The Forbidden Note: Chapter 45

Every click of mom’s high heels tapping the floor feels like a dagger to the chest. Her eyes are carefully trained away from me, but I can tell it’s because she’s trying to keep her facade in place.

Yesterday, I wore a mask to the dance and it allowed me to let my true feelings surface.

For just a second, I was free.

But mom?

She wears her mask twenty-four seven to fit into the new lifestyle Jarod Cross has given her. It’s obvious, even with all the money and clothes, she’s still so confined.

“Are you okay?” Mom rushes over to Zane. “Look at your face! Who did this—”

“I’m fine.” Zane pushes himself to sit up.

I instinctually step forward to help him, but mom looks up with a sharp glance. It happens in seconds, but it’s enough to drag me to a stop.

“How did you know I was here?” Zane asks, eyes moving to me as if he can sense my discomfort.

I stare at the floor.

“The hospital called Jarod, but he’s not in the country right now, so he called me.” She frowns. “What happened last night, Zane?”

“It was a motorcycle accident.” The lie rolls off his tongue without a hitch.

“This is why I don’t trust those machines.” Her gaze sweeps to me and lingers. “When you go too fast on a road that’s too dangerous, it’s only a matter of time before you crash.”

I swallow hard. “I should head out. Teachers have clean-up duty at Redwood today. They’re probably texting and wondering where I am.”

“Postpone the clean up. I need to speak with you.”

Mom’s eyes are stern. I haven’t seen an expression that severe since I snuck out to attend a concert with Sloane and got caught climbing back in through the window.

“Let’s talk in the hallway,” mom says stiffly.

Zane gives me a long look and I can tell that he’s ready to jump into the conversation. I shake my head slightly. He’s a wild card. I have no idea if what he’ll say will curb mom’s ire or worsen it.

In an empty corridor outside, mom whirls on me. “Grace Jamieson, explain what I just saw.” She points at the hospital room.

My eyelashes flutter. “What did you see?”

“You’re not…?” Mom barks out a pained laugh. “I can’t believe I’m even asking this. You’re not sleeping with your step-brother, are you?”

A sharp stab of guilt slices through me.

Mom scans my face for the truth.

As her eyes drill into me, it gets hard to breathe. My nostrils flare as I take in a big gulp.

She lifts a hand. “Answer me. Are you sleeping with him?”

I lick my lips.

“There’s only one right answer to that question.”

I keep staring at the ground, trying to avoid her eyes.

She sees right through me. Her fingers on her head, she stumbles back. I try to stable her with a hand, but she shakes me off.

Black eyes filled with accusation, she stammers, “How long have you two been… doing that?”

I lick my lips.

“You haven’t… it hasn’t been since the beginning, right?”

I turn away, feeling the weight of the moment. The guilt is staggering.

Her face blanches. A slow, encompassing panic takes over her expression. “Oh my go—you have got to be kidding me.”

Fear and panic swirl like a tornado in my chest.

Mom takes a step back, looking at me as if I’m a monster. “Gracie, how could you… how could you do that?”

I don’t have the words to defend myself so I just clench my jaw.

Voice a cold croak, she orders, “Break it off with him. Immediately.”

“There’s nothing to break off.”

That’s the truth. Zane and I aren’t dating, despite what happened in the classroom last night. He’s… a bad habit, but he’s not going to be in my life forever. We might be drawn to each other now, but this is a phase that will pass.

“That boy had your face in his hands and you weren’t pulling back either. In fact, you seemed to downright enjoy it.”

I glance away.

“No, this won’t do.” Her eyes lift to mine. “I’ll find you a nice boyfriend your own age so you can wake up and stop this nonsense.” She pulls out her cell phone with trembling fingers. “Jarod introduced me to a nice young man last week—”

My reaction is instant. “I’m not going on a date, mom.”

“Then what? Are you saying you want to be with an eighteen-year-old?”

“I’m saying that I’m not interested in dating anyone right now. And even if I was, I’ll find someone myself.”

“I can’t trust your decisions. You clearly have terrible judgement.”

“Maybe I got that from you,” I snap.

I regret the words the moment they leave my mouth.

Mom goes completely still.

The stab of guilt in my chest turns into a giant icicle, shooting out of my heart and splintering into a thousand pieces.

Her eyes skate between mine, deeply offended. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Our emotions are running high and the tension is about to snap, but I can’t let this opportunity go by without warning her.

“Jarod Cross. Something isn’t right about him, mom.”

Instantly, her lips tighten and it’s like watching someone barricading a window for a hurricane. Totally shutting down.

“You told me not to be like those girls who fell for guys because they had money and no character, but what did you do? You fell for someone much worse than any of the guys who used to hit on me.”

“Jarod Cross is nothing like those low-rate thugs in our old neighborhood,” mom snaps.

“Why? Because he’s white?”

Mom rolls her eyes. “This has nothing to do with race! Jarod is a respected musician, a philanthropist, and an advocate for the arts. He happens to be rich and I’m sure people hate him just because of his money.”

“Mom, if you hear what he’s done…”

“I will not listen to rumors.” Her eyes are angry and bulging.

“You’ve been married to him for almost a year. Love? Commitment? Friendship? Do you have any of those? He barely looks at you. Barely spends time at home. He never calls you or checks on you. He’s no better than a ghost.”

“He’s busy!”

“What about that night?” I hiss. “You saw the way he treated his sons. You heard him threaten me.”

Her throat bobs and she glances away. “It wasn’t a threat.”

“Is that what you think? Truly?”

Mom throws her arm up, getting louder. It’s what she does when she can’t win an argument. She tries to talk over anyone who disagrees.

“What is this sudden vendetta against Jarod? You were fine with him until you got so close to Zane.” She slices a furious look down the corridor. “Those boys are influencing you in the wrong ways, Grey. Since you started hanging out with them, you’ve become rude and disrespectful to your parents, and you’ve started a perverse relationship with your step-brother.” She stops, collects herself and then says, “If you care about me at all, you’ll go on the date.”

“I’m sorry, mom. I love you. I will always love you, but you don’t control me.”

Her look of shock is quickly eclipsed by anger. “From the looks of it, you don’t know how to control yourself!” Spittle flies from her mouth and I can see her eyes turning red. “A kid in high school is bad enough. A student is even worse, but your stepbrother? Your brother, Grace. Why? How could you do something so horrific?”

I don’t point out that Zane is eighteen.

That I didn’t know it at the time.

That he wasn’t my stepbrother then.

I don’t have any words to defend myself. No armor. No defense. I’m holding my own conscience together with the desperate belief that I truly did my best to resist him.

Mom stares me down. “For years, you were screaming about the injustice that happened to Sloane, but do you even have the right to defend her? You’re turning into the very monster that you’re trying to hunt down.”

Those words crash into me, shattering my heart. I swipe away an angry tear and keep my mouth shut.

“Say something,” mom hisses.

I inspect the ground instead.

Mom grabs my arms and shakes me. “Say something, dammit!”

“What can I say? You won’t believe me anyway.”

Her angry breathing rattles in the hallway.

I stare at her, my chest heaving.

“Do you really have feelings for that boy?” mom hisses.

My heart starts thumping in my throat. I inhale a deep breath as I try to form a sharp and resounding ‘no’. But the word gets stuck in my throat, buried under the memory of Zane’s touch as he held my hand at the cliff. His kiss as our broken souls found solace under the stars. I see him climbing over Hall and punching him into the ground. I trace the memory of his deep voice when he promised I belonged to him.

The smart thing to do, the only thing to do is to deny it.

The word ‘no’ is so close to my lips, I can taste it.

But my heart thumps faster.

And I can’t say it.

I wish I could.

I really do.

Tears crop up in my eyes from the effort, from the pain, from the feeling that I’m being torn in a million pieces.

“Gracie, please—”

“I… don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Her eyes widen. “You don’t… know if you have feelings for an eighteen year old?”

My chin hits my chest.

“Do you know the havoc that would wreak if even a whiff of news got out? Redwood Prep Teacher. Sex Scandal. At minimum, you’ll be an outcast. At best, you could go to jail. Do you want your name smeared for all eternity? Do you want your freedom snatched away from you? Because that’s what will happen if you keep fooling around.”

I inhale a deep breath.

Mom huffs. “I can’t look at you. Don’t… don’t talk to me until you sort this out.”

My eyes widen.

Hurt crashes into my chest.

Beyond the pain, I see my chance at talking to mom about Jarod slipping away.

Fists clenched at my side, I struggle to regain control of the conversation, but there’s no other way.

“Wait,” I blurt.

She stops.

My teeth sink into my bottom lip and I feel like I’m being submerged under water. Like everything is spinning out of my control.

“I’ll do it.”

Mom turns around. Her eyes fly to me. Surprise shimmer in their depths.

“I’ll go on the date,” I say tightly.

“Really?” Mom’s voice climbs with hope.

“But I want something from you in return.”

“You’re not in much of a position to negotiate, Gracie.”

I know I’m not.

But my deal with The Kings is important. They held up their end by getting me the boxes from Redwood Prep’s basement. It’s my turn to honor the agreement.

“I’m willing to go on the date… if you agree to have a real conversation about Jarod.”

Mom goes completely stiff.

“I’m not asking you to divorce him, mom. I’m asking you to listen to me. The same way you want to save me from myself, that’s the way I feel about you.”

“I am a married woman. It’s completely different,” she argues.

“You’re not happy and you won’t admit it. How is that any different than what you’re trying to get me to see?” I step closer to her and she moves back, clenching her teeth. “We both lost our way, but we can find it again. At least hear me out, mom.”

Nostrils flaring, she takes a few seconds to think it over.

Finally, she nods. “Deal.”