Rise of the Notorious (21 page)

Lynette sat down on the couch and sank into the cushions, embarrassed that she could find no way to sit that didn’t cause her to slouch. Her mother’s voice rang out in her head, reminding her to sit straight, but Lynette pushed the thought aside and sat comfortably anyway.

Quinn quickly gathered some mugs with hot coffee and a tray of freshly baked cookies from the kitchen, setting them on the coffee table before settling onto the sofa herself. She cupped her mug in her hands, warming them as she eyed Lynette curiously.

“So you spoke to your dad?” she asked. “Grant told me all about Morgan and what your dad is planning to reveal to the press.”

Lynette nodded slowly, sipping her own coffee as she tried to figure out where to begin. “He feels that the public has a right to know what Morgan’s hiding. He doesn’t think it will hurt the Vassers more than they’ve already been hurt.”

“But it certainly won’t help them, either,” Quinn replied, her protective nature kicking in. “Isn’t there some way you can convince him to let this go?”

Lynette let out a weary laugh, shaking her head. “He’s stubborn. Once he’s convinced himself that what he’s doing is right, he doesn’t change his mind.”

Quinn frowned, though she understood. Wasn’t she the very same way? Stubborn as an ox, pursuer of truth. “Well, then we need to soften the blow somehow when it does finally hit. What about the other leaks to the press? How does he explain that?”

“He claims that his source knows the drug dealer who supplied Linc’s and Grant’s dad with the drugs…apparently the drug dealer said that Madison told him to tamper with them.”

Quinn blinked once in instant disbelief. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I thought so, too…” Lynette admitted, chewing on her lower lip restlessly. “But when I gave it more thought, I realized that I just don’t really know Madison or her motives. I know Linc loves her, but love is often blind.”

“Yes, but we don’t know this source, either. They could be lying,” Quinn charged, anger in her eyes now. “Hell, for all we know, Jorja Hale is this mysterious source and she’s just trying to cover her own tracks by placing the blame on Madison.”

“I contemplated that as well,” Lynette said, her hands clenched together in her lap. “Except it doesn’t make sense. If Jorja tampered with the drugs with the intent of coaxing Win to kill himself, why would she insist it wasn’t merely a suicide? Why make a huge fuss if she’s responsible? It only increases her risk of being caught.”

Quinn frowned, realizing Lynette was right. It just didn’t add up. “So then it’s possible Madison did this. And it’s also likely Jorja is the source
and
the one who’s been leaking information to the press about Madison in an attempt to expose what really happened.”

Lynette nodded, at a loss for words. Dread and fear coursed through her, and she buried her face in her hands as a sob built in her throat.

Quinn immediately wrapped her arm over Lynette’s shoulders and pulled her close, fighting back her own dulled shock and alarm. “It’ll be okay, we’ll figure out what to do. Why don’t I call Grant and we can meet him and Linc over at his place, and—”

“Linc doesn’t want to see me,” Lynette interrupted, looking at Quinn. “We had a fight about my father…that’s why I went down to South Carolina for the weekend.”

“Oh.” Quinn faltered, pity flashing in her eyes before she replaced it with sunny optimism. “He’ll get over it. He doesn’t hold grudges, Lynette, you know that. He’s just stressed out right now, we all are. Grant and I had a fight the other day, too.”

“About what?” Lynette asked, trying to let Quinn’s easy faith lift her spirits.

“Apparently he was irritated that I’ve been getting so involved. He doesn’t want me to get hurt by all of this.”

“How would you get hurt?” Lynette shook her head. “All you want to do is be there for him.”

“I know, that’s what I said.” Quinn sighed, rubbing her friend’s back consolingly. “But after I threatened to bop him over the head with my frying pan, he got over it.”

“Smart man.” Lynette’s smile faded as the sinking feeling returned, and her eyes sobered as she watched Quinn. “How do you think they’ll react to all of this?”

Quinn thought it over for a long moment, weighing the pros and cons in her head. Though it didn’t sit right with her, she realized there was only one course of action they could take. “I wonder if maybe it’s best for us to keep this to ourselves for now. I don’t like lying to Grant, but until we know for sure that Madison did what we think she did, I think it’s best for us not to say anything. The last thing the family needs is to be even more divided than they already are.”

Lynette nodded. “You’re probably right.”

Just then, her cell phone went off in her pocket, and she pulled it out curiously. She shot a worried glance at Quinn. “It’s Linc.”

“Answer it!” Quinn grinned, pleased to see the excitement return to her friend’s eyes. She prayed that it was Linc calling to apologize and not to sever ties even further.

Lynette lifted the phone to her ear, her hand shaking. She put all the cool reserve and confidence she could into her voice as she spoke. “Hello?”

“
It’s me
.”

“I know,” she replied flatly, even though her heart raced.

She heard Linc sigh audibly and could picture him running his hand through his hair. It was something he always did when he was agitated.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“
I’m ready to forgive you if you’re ready to apologize
.”

She blinked in surprise and spoke without a moment’s hesitation. “I’m sorry.”

He was silent for a brief moment before speaking again.

“
Alright, good enough. I’m sick of being mad at you. I miss you
.”

“I miss you, too.” Lynette smiled in relief as she eyed Quinn, who was silently clapping her hands.

“
Where are you? I went by your apartment but you haven’t been there
.”

“I’m at Quinn’s.” Lynette could hear the television on in the background and assumed he was at his own place. “I’ll head home right now if you want to meet me there.”

“
Yeah, that sounds go—”
He cut off mid-sentence, but Lynette could still hear the television.

“Linc?”

“
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me
,” he growled.

“What is it?”

He was silent for a moment longer, apparently listening to the newscast, and when he spoke again there was a definite fury in his voice. “
Things just got a lot more interesting.
”

Madison sat in
her office, watching the newscast on the small television she’d had brought in. She took in the image of herself, a candid shot of her exiting the hotel that the paparazzi had managed to capture just days earlier.

It bothered her to see the exhaustion lining her face, the temper she normally kept so viciously in check visible in her eyes. This was how the public now saw her, as some harried, likely guilty woman clinging to her throne as her empire crashed and burned around her.

The gleeful reporter was rambling on about how they had been exclusively informed by an inside source with the family that Madison had known for years about her grandfather’s horrific crimes. And that, despite her knowledge, she had kept the information a secret.

It was likely to ruin any chances the company had of going public and corporatizing, unless Madison stepped down. Or so the reporter claimed.

Madison only continued to watch and let the realization sink in that she had been betrayed. Not by Shaw or by Jorja Hale, not by some mysterious letter-sender.

She had been betrayed by her own family.

The only people who knew about her knowledge of what Cyrus had done had been sitting in the conference room with her that day when she had confessed of it. Whether or not they had blabbed about the secret to their wives, girlfriends, or friends, she couldn’t know. But the truth was that one of them had seen fit to exploit the information and in turn put the entire family at risk.

One of them had gone to the press, their intention clearly to put her in the spotlight and have her shamed into resignation.

But who had done it?

She remembered the way Cy had practically leapt over the table in his angry attempt to attack her, and the cold and callous way Duke had berated and questioned her. She recalled the stunned disbelief on her three uncles’ faces and the mortified disgust that had followed. The idea of any of them turning on her was not a far-fetched one.

Or even her own brothers, who she wanted to believe would never hurt her. Grant had yet to bring it up again, which meant he was still stewing over it, and Linc had only half-forgiven her. It was clear that their trust in her had wavered and, as a result, she had to wonder if they would view this as an opportunity to force her to back down.

She shivered and had to steel herself against the sharp, piercing cold pain of it all, wrapping her arms over her torso as a means of defense. Her eyes closed tight as she tried to sort through all of it in her head, the players and the events and the threats. How was she supposed to save her family’s company when everyone was against her? How could she move forward when every step she took only forced her two steps back?

Disillusioned and aching, she fought back the useless and helpless tears and tried to think of her grandfather. What would Cyrus do in this situation?

She stared down at the tattoo on her wrist, running her thumb over it, trying to find some bit of strength to pull from.

“What do I do,
pépère
?” she whispered, her throat tightened as if clamped shut by a vice. “I can trust no one, now.”

She wondered if he spoke the thought that suddenly flew through her mind, only because such a revelation could only have come from the depths of Hell itself. Surely it was foolish, and she’d be damned if she didn’t see the irony of it…and yet it was so perfect.

The only person who knew nothing of her secret also happened to be the person who had held the same knowledge for years, long before her father had gone to the press and made headlines with the news that Cyrus had killed Winston.

The only man her father had ever trusted, and consequently the only man to have ever broken her heart, was now the one person she could guarantee had not betrayed her on this.

It amused her to understand then that, despite everything between them, he was now going to be her salvation.

It was an irony Cyrus would have appreciated.

She shot immediately to her feet and left her office, making her way upstairs to his room. When she got there, she rapped impatiently on the door.

The second Wyatt opened it, she pushed him back inside and assaulted him, her mouth eagerly finding his. The door slammed shut and the sound of it thundered through her as she emptied everything she had into this one, frantic act.

She didn’t want to need him, didn’t want to even be there with him. But sometimes wants are overshadowed by a pure and primal need, and hers at that moment drove her to him.

Wyatt held her, stunned by her urgency and concerned by her desperation. This was no longer the cool, reserved, and controlled woman he loved. This was a woman with her chest torn open and her heart exposed, with all her insecurities laid out for him to see. She was on the edge of ruin, and she sought something he had been trying to give her all along.

Strength. Comfort. Love.

Madison raked her nails over his back as she broke the kiss and buried her face in his neck, knowing there were tears in her eyes and not wanting him to see. She didn’t know what he would do, what he would say, if he saw them.

Then again, she’d come to him in a moment of weakness. As much as she despised crying, this time she let herself embrace it. She let the tears overflow and spill down her cheeks, the warmth in its own sorrowful way bringing her comfort. Giving her release.

Without words, Wyatt lifted her off her feet and took her to the bed. He put her down and then laid beside her, pulling her to his chest and holding her tight against him.