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“I can understand why.”
Brent flared his nostrils and then shoved his father harder up against the cool iron of the rails. “We’re done. I’m through with your games and your guilt. I’m through with everything you’ve ever done to me. Cara and I are moving out – should have long ago but she adores you and after LeeAnne… I wanted her to have her family. We don’t have much. But I can see her watching how you treat people – how you use and abuse them – and that’s not the example I want my daughter to have.”
The smirk fell from his father’s face for the first time all night. Genuine alarm colored his features from his wide eyes to gasping mouth. “You can’t be serious. Some fling with a nanny is going to ruin our family?”
“No,” Brent said, finally letting go of the old bastard, “you ruined your own family. You wheedled and pushed and threatened with all your lessons. Well, lesson learned. You can’t fucking be trusted, you certainly can’t love. I’m done with you. And you’ll never see me or Cara again.”
“Son… w-wait,” his father stammered. “I built that company for you. I built all of it for Cara so she can have it, too. I just wanted to provide for you, make you strong.”
Brent couldn’t help but smile. Even if everything else was fucked up, he felt a huge weight lifting from his shoulders. He could see his father now, really see him – that frail frame, the shake in his hands, that slight palsy his father had been able to hide behind his calm façade. Donald Sanderson was sick, and he’d worked himself to a point where he no longer had any family to care, especially after all the abuse he’d doled out.
“You did make me strong, Dad. So strong that I don’t need a fucking bastard like you in my life. Now, get out of here before I have security throw you out. Cara and I will be at my penthouse from now on, and if you try and contact her.” He paused and smiled deliberately. “Well, you won’t like what I do then. After all, I’m my father’s son.”
***
“Jessica!” Brent pounded on the door. “We have to talk, please.”
He’d wanted to leave the event sooner, but the thank you speech to the donors had to be made, and then the press had ambushed him for interviews. After that, it felt like everyone in San Diego from the mayor to half his competition in business and in movies wanted to shake his hand. He’d been forced to grin and bear it for the good of earning money for the much-needed research, but by the time everything had wound down, it had been past two a.m., and he knew that going to see Jessica at that hour wouldn’t help him at all.
Brent had waited exactly about seven hours before rushing to her apartment to try and get her to hear reason, to let her know he’d kicked his father to the curb and his assistants were moving Cara into the penthouse even now.
What he didn’t expect was the pissed off redhead standing in front of him with her arms crossed defiantly over her chest, and her eyes glaring at him as if she possessed the power to set him on fire with just a look. As far as he knew, maybe she did.
“I know who you are, Brent. And I don’t care that you have more money than God or if you’re a hotshot small studio exec. I don’t even care that you’re one of San Diego’s most eligible bachelors.” She rolled her eyes. “None of that matters to me and it sure as shit doesn’t matter to Jessica. I don’t know what happened last night, but she came home in tears and won’t stop crying.”
He swallowed. It was a bit of a relief that she hadn’t said everything. Maybe it was too embarrassing for her to even tell her roommate about the horrible, degrading things his father had said. He hoped so. Brent never wanted his family to cause her so much pain. He never wanted to be the source of her pain. Ever.
Yet here they were.
“I just need to talk to her. I fixed it, and I can explain everything.”
The redhead stepped through the transom and let the door slam behind her. “I don’t think you get it, buddy. You fucked up, and you lost her. She doesn’t want to see you. I don’t want you to see her. You have no idea how badly you messed up, but it’s over, Brent. Just go away.”
“But I love her.”
She shook her head. “If this is love, I don’t want to see what happens to people you hate.”
“Something happened last night, but I fixed it, and it will never happen again.”
“It’s too late. She’s gone, and she never wants to see you again. She despises you. So leave, and please let the door hit your ass on the way out.” With that, the roommate scurried back through the door, and he heard the click of the locks and even a deadbolt behind her.
