Chapter 54: Bide: Chapter 50

I’m running late.

I have fifteen minutes to get to the Jacobs’ place but considering I’m shoeless, pantsless, and only have mascara on one eye, there’s no way I’m making it.

You’d think after so many weeks, I would’ve found a way to not be late for these damn dinners.

To be fair, it’s not entirely my fault. It was late when we got back from the ranch, and I went straight to the bar for a late shift I stayed later than usual because some assholes decided to be obnoxious and hassle us long after closing time. And then today, I had a shit ton of college work to catch up on and I had to go to the office for a couple of hours and on top of all that, I missed a few doses of my meds—it’s not like I had the time or the wits to grab them before racing to the hospital.

What’s that saying? When it rains, it pours? Well, yeah, the last few days, it has definitely poured.

For the first time since I started going there, the days I spent at the ranch weren’t entirely tranquil. I love Lux, I really do, but God, she was a nightmare—and that’s coming from me. She only got worse when Grace and Lottie came home, the former turning up out of her mind with worry about being summoned home mid-week while the latter…well, she arrived pissed as hell, probably because Lottie is perpetually pissed. And she was most definitely as delighted as her sisters to find out about her nephew.

She just sat there silently, sullenly, while the others celebrated, and then stormed out when Lux tried to talk to her. Grace tried to go after her but got a door slammed in her face, Lux cried which made Eliza cry which pissed off Jackson and…

And it was a mess.

Never did I think I’d be glad to swap Serenity Ranch for Sun Valley.

Well, I was glad until Friday rolled around.

By the time I locate my pants and finish my make-up, Pen is blowing up my phone with all the ways I’m dead to her. Snatching my keys and handbag off the counter, I hop to the door, wrenching it open with one hand and slipping my heels on with the other. A yelp of surprise leaves me at what, or rather who, I find lurking in the hallway.

Jackson is wearing a shirt. And a blazer. And slacks. And those dressy shoes he used to wear when he’d take me to an obscenely fancy restaurant.

What the fuck?

“What’re you doing here?”

Amusement brightens his face. The fist that was poised to knock unfurls and drops to my hip, pulling me close so he can kiss my temple. “Hey. Am I late?”

I blink up at him. “For what?”

“It’s Friday, right? You’re having dinner at the Jacobs’ place?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Cool.” Jackson tugs me outside, stealing my keys and locking the door behind me. “You mind if I drive?”

If he notices me staring at like he’s grown two heads, he doesn’t comment. “You’re coming?”

“If that’s okay with you.”

He… he’s coming to Friday night dinner.

I will not cry.

Pressing my lips together, I nod. My knees wobble as I follow him to his car, my grip on his hand vice-like. Ring-adorned fingers are cool against mine, and when I glance down and catch sight of the familiar battered one adorning his pinky, my eyes burn.

It’s not until he clicks his seatbelt–and mine–into place that I feel like I can talk without bursting into tears. “You don’t have to come.”

“I want to.”

I pull a face. “I think you’re gonna regret it.” When Jackson makes a dismissive noise, I squeeze the hand that quickly settled on my thigh. “I’m serious. It’s bad, Jackson. Like, stab-yourself-in-the-eye-with-a-fork bad.”

“That’s why I’m going.”

“Shit, baby, I knew you were kinda a sadist but this is a bit much.”

I get a pinch and a side-eyed withering look for that one. “I’m going for you, brat. Thought it’d be a little better if I was there.” Jackson shifts to face me, head cocked, almost daring me to disagree. “Unless I’m wrong?”

I only hesitate for a second.

“You’re not wrong,” I confirm quietly, lacing my fingers with his and bringing his hand to my lips.

Definitely not wrong. If there’s anything that can get me through this shitty night, it’s Jackson. The thought of asking him did cross my mind but… I don’t know. He’s got a lot of shit going on. I didn’t want to burden him with anything else. And he pledged his fucking love for me and I… well, didn’t, I thought it would be selfish of me to ask.

A silly thing to think, obviously.

The moment Pen spots Jackson through the windshield, she screams.

“Thank the fucking Lord.” Her half-groan, half-squeal rings in my ear as she yanks open the passenger door and drags me into her arms. Cheek smushed against mine, she squeezes hard enough to make my lungs scream. “I knew you’d get your head out of your ass eventually.”

Rolling my eyes, I pinch my sister on the side. She slaps my hand away and pinches me right back, shoving me halfway up the driveway, kicking at my ankles like the overgrown child she is. I hook an arm around her neck and drag her after me, ignoring her screeching about ruining her hair.

The sound of laughter from behind causes us both to pause. Glancing over our shoulders, we find Jackson watching us with a smile. “What?”

“Nothing.” His lips twitch. Wrapping his arms around me from behind, he leans down until his breath tickles my cheek, his lips just grazing my skin. “The fact that there’s two of you in the world is terrifying, you know that right?”

I elbow him again, twisting my head so I can kiss the smile curling his lips as Pen shouts for her parents.

“We’re in here, honey!” Her mom hollers back.

And just like that, the mood sobers.

Both Pen and I go straight-backed, the smiles dropping from our faces. Both my hands clutch one of Jackson’s in a death grip. He kisses my temple once, twice, three times before following Pen into the living room, dragging me behind him.

Pen makes a beeline for her mom, kissing her cheek and completely ignoring the man beside her. “Mom, this is Jackson. Luna’s boyfriend.”

I don’t correct her.

And even if Jackson didn’t return Mrs Jacobs smile–the same one she always graces me with, a little wary but bright and genuine and so damn kind–and hold out a hand to shake before I could get a word out, I don’t think I would.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Jackson greets smoothly, and in the blink of an eye, Mrs Jacobs’ wariness disappears. “I hope you don’t mind me intruding like this. Lu mentioned how good your cooking is and I couldn’t stay away.”

I resist the urge to snort. Fucking charmer.

His words, and his smile, work exactly as intended; Mrs Jacobs is all but simpering for the guy. “Any friend of Luna’s is always welcome here. Right, Robert?”

doesn’t look like he agrees.

Stony-faced, Professor Jacobs reeks of disapproval as he stares my boyfriend down. A sentiment Jackson is more than returning; he offers the older man nothing more than a nod and a curt, “Sir.”

Jacobs doesn’t like that. He stands, demanding a handshake too and cutting me a disapproving look. “A little notice would’ve been nice.”

“Robert,” his wife chides him, earning her some side-eye too.

Before either can say anything else, another voice chimes in. “Jackson?”

Ma dithers in the living room doorway, surprised confusion all over her face, and I tense at the sight of her. I didn’t think she’d be here. I wasn’t prepared for her to be here. After the other day…

Jackson squeezes me a little tighter. His smile dims a fraction—for my sake, I’m sure—as he greets Ma. “Nice to see you, Isla.”

She returns the sentiment but her eyes are trained on me.

I look anywhere but at her.

Clearing her throat, Mrs Jacobs paints on a smile and ushers us all into the dining room before the tension suffocates us all. Jackson doesn’t let go of me once, not even when he pulls out my chair for me and we sit down, not even when food starts being passed around.

“So,” Mrs Jacobs starts, a delicious smell wafting towards me as she hands over a platter of whatever meat she’s prepared tonight. “You go to UCSV too?”

Jackson takes the platter with a grateful smile, serving himself and me as he nods. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be graduating this year.”

“Exciting.” Mrs Jacobs smiles. “Do you have any plans after graduation?”

“Not yet.”

Professor Jacobs snorts, earning daggers from his wife, his mistress, and both his daughters.

Jackson doesn’t falter for a second. “I was thinking of moving back home for a while. My sister’s having a baby and I wanna be there to help out.”

“That’s very admirable of you,” Mrs Jacobs coos. Ma nods in agreement while Pen shoots me an ‘aw’ look, pouting and fluttering her lashes dramatically.

The only one not impressed? Professor Jacobs. “And home is where?”

“Up north. My family has a ranch near Sequoia National Park.”

“A ranch.” Professor Jacobs kisses his teeth. “That’s… quaint.”

. A compliment, under any other circumstances, but from his mouth, it’s like a curse. I glare at him. “It’s beautiful. And very successful.”

“I never said it wasn’t, Luna,” Jacobs replies in that tone I fucking hate. The one that makes me feel like a silly little kid, like I’m about two feet tall. He uses the same one on Jackson, and I hate it even more for that. “What do you do on this ranch?”

“Lots of things.” I see the slightest tick in Jackson’s jaw. “Weddings, corporate retreats, things like that.”

“And your parents run all this?”

And there it is.

The Achilles heel that has Jackson stiffening.

“No, sir,” he coughs out after a moment too long. “My sisters and I do.”

“Your sisters?” A noise of utter condescension leaves Jacobs as he shakes his head. “Well, how nice.”

“

.”

“What?” Jacobs flashes innocent eyes at his wife. “I’m just making conversation.”

“You’re being rude,” Mrs Jacobs says carefully, quietly.

Her husband scoffs loudly. “Am I not allowed to get to know my daughter’s boyfriend?”

No.

No, he is absolutely not.

Before I can say as much, he continues, “I’m just confused, Luna. I was under the impression you two broke up.”

“I was under the impression you were a faithful husband but hey, look, here I am.”

The words come out before I can stop them, and I regret them as soon as they leave my mouth. Not because of how Jacobs’ face flames—God knows I revel in that—but because of how Mrs Jacobs deflates. Pen rests a hand on her mom’s shoulder, mouthing at me, and I’m going to apologize. I swear, I’m going to.

is on the tip of my tongue, ready to be said.

But then Jacobs opens his fucking mouth.

“You will not talk to me like that, young lady,” he barks like has any kind of authority over me, and fuck me, does that grind my gears. As does the way he rears upright in a weak attempt at intimidation, one hand slamming palm-down against the dinner table and making everyone jump.

That whisper of an apology dies a fiery death.

“I can talk to you however I want.”

His neck flushes a bright red. “You’re under my roof.”

“Because you bribed me to be here.”

“Trust me, I would very much prefer to be anywhere else.”

That red broaches his jaw, spreading up his cheeks as his hands curl into pitiful little fists. “Watch your attitude, Luna. I tolerate a lot from you but after everything I’ve done for you, you will treat me with a little respect.”

“Everything you’ve done for me?” I scoff. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I pay for your apartment,” he spits. “I pay your college fees. You wouldn’t even be in college if it wasn’t for me.”

It takes a moment for his words to sink in.

For their meaning to become clear.

I think it hits all of us at the same time. What, exactly, he just admitted to. The gravity of his words. What they imply.

I’m the first one to break it, croaking out a quiet, “What?”

Jacobs blinks. He clears his throat loudly, equal measures aggressive and embarrassed. He sits back in his seat, bracing his hands on the arms of his chair—I think it’s an attempt to hide the fact they’re shaking.

It doesn’t work.

He coughs again, and I get the feeling that’s the only reply I’ll get.

So, I try again.

“I have a scholarship,” I say, “so what the fuck do you mean you pay my college fees?”

He flinches, and whether it’s from the shrillness of my voice or the decibel or maybe the language, I don’t know, but still, he doesn’t answer. He won’t look at me. He won’t look at anyone.

Especially not his wife, shaking beside him.

“Robert?” she whispers and he visibly shrinks. “Did you know about her?”

“Of course not,” he replies quickly.

Too quickly.

“You’re lying.” Pen gapes at her dad, so much emotion on her face it’s hard to pinpoint just one. “You’re fucking lying.”

“Language, Penelope.”

The room fills with the screeching sound of wood scraping on wood as Pen shoves her chair back and stands. “Tell the fucking truth.”

Jacobs says nothing but that’s okay.

His wife speaks for him.

“You made a donation to the university,” she says quietly. “Three years ago, you said you made a donation.”

Something painful lodges itself in my throat. “My scholarship is privately funded.”

A whimpering crying noise comes from the opposite side of the table as Mrs Jacobs covers her mouth with her hand.

Warm breath caresses my ear. “I think we should leave.”

I ignore Jackson, voice cracking as I ask, “How long?”

I don’t expect an answer but I get one.

Or rather, Ma gets one.

Jacobs turns to face the woman he got pregnant, his expression so plain, his voice so matter-of-fact. “The day you went to the clinic, I followed you. To make sure you…” He trails off but I think we all hear the end of his sentence anyway.

“You left without even going inside.” A tendon in his jaw jumps. “I saw your name on her application and I knew.”

His gaze flicks to mine and the cool uncaring in them hits me right in the stomach. “The moment I saw you in my class, I knew you were my daughter.”