Chapter 32
It started almost as soon as she shut her eyes. The same dream. The same nightmare, pushing her to cuddle deeper into her covers, a whimper on her lips.
Sense memories from that night, the evening light soft and subtle, the steps she was taking into adulthood that night meant so much to her. Twenty, and the world was hers, her first real event after the surgery. Jack dropped her at the party with his usual words of warning, and she had rolled her eyes at the whole big brother thing. He was so damn protective, he and Josh both. It had been an evening that demanded a little black dress and Beth felt like a princess, a sexy adult princess.
By eleven, she'd been getting tired, but she had made the effort to push through the constant exhaustion that plagued her, determined to be normal. By twelve, she'd lost her friends in the house somewhere, and by twelve fifteen, she was stuck in a room with the last person on earth her brother would want her to be with. By twelve thirty-five, she lay sobbing, her innocence gone. At one, Jack picked her up, concerned to see her so tired, but she had cleaned herself up real good. He would never know.
Her nightmares were filled with running and not getting away, of fear and hopelessness, of feeling so small, so hurt—
It sent her upright in her bed, her breathing ragged, and she saw that dawn washed the room with pale ethereal light. It was okay; she was here, home, at the D, grounded, safe. But the nightmare remained in her memories, and she knew where she would go now, where her nightmares always sent her now—
They sent her to find Jack.
* * * *
Jack had been up since five, his head buzzing with post beer and fight aches and pains, his ass just this side of sore, and his world a hell of a lot more complicated than a few weeks ago. He'd left Riley curled on the bed, the man not stirring when Jack's internal alarm clock had pushed him out of bed to see to the horses. It was his quiet time, leaning against the fence with coffee, looking over Campbell land, pride in his every pore at what his family had achieved. He smiled, remembering the sleeping giant in his bed rolling into his space as soon as he moved, cuddling into pillows and murmuring something in his sleep. It was all he could do not to climb back in bed just to hold his husband, kiss away the bruises around his left eye, and the cuts to one of his hands, but his babies needed him.
"Hey, big brother." Jack smiled at hearing the voice behind him. Beth had taken to standing with him at this ungodly hour, watching dawn paint pastels across the wide-open sky, claiming Miss Campbell Junior was tap-dancing on her bladder. Unbidden, she curled into his side, and he pulled her close, enjoying the touch.
"Hey, little sister," he said softly. "How's my niece doin' in there?"
"Moving it on up to level two," she replied, rubbing a hand on her belly and smiling ruefully.
"How did it go yesterday at the hospital? With all that happened we never—"
"Everything is good; the heartbeats are strong, hers and mine."
"I wanna come to the next one, talk to the doctor, maybe—"
"Jack, quit with your worrying; I'm doing well, and I have Steve with me. Speaking of whom…" Beth deliberately stopped there, waiting for the inevitable big brother response.
"What about Steve?" There it was— big brother worry, large as life.
"He makes me happy, Jack. I love him, and I know you and Josh worry." Jack stiffened imperceptibly, and then inch by careful inch, he relaxed.
"Not only is he years older than you, which I guess I'm kind of over now, but he's bi, Beth. I just worry. To settle on one…" He wasn't sure how to word it, but Josh had expressed the same concern last night.
"To settle on a woman like me when he could have all those men out there?" Beth offered wryly, causing Jack to blush.
"No, Beth, I didn't mean it like that. I like Steve, and he's a good friend to Riley. I like that he looks after you. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"More than. So we have your blessing, then?" Jack hugged her tighter; reluctant to let her go, but knowing he needed to.
"Of course you do, baby girl, of course you do."
"Thank you, Jack. He makes me happy, makes me feel safe."
"Anyway," Jack continued, tongue firmly in cheek, "me 'n' Josh can always take him out by the barns and have a
quiet
word if he fucks it up."
"Ass."
* * * *
Lisa settled back in her chair, the book balanced on one knee, the glass of wine in the other. It was her favorite time of day, no Jeff shouting at her, and her son curled on her lap reading from the fairy tales in the big gilded book, the only real thing she'd brought to this marriage. It was quiet time, post school and pre-Jeff coming home. He had just called and left a message. He wouldn't be home until 10 pm, and that made her stretch her toes deliciously. Six whole hours of peace.
She winced at the pull of old bruises on her spine and cursed the need to lean forward. Carrying these marks may have become second nature now, but that sure as hell didn't make it any easier physically.
The nanny arrived to take the children to tea, and as usual, she kissed them both, feeling a little lost as they disappeared for their nutritionally appropriate meals. As the door began to shut behind them, a hand stopped it, and a soft voice came into the room.
"Lisa, may we talk?"
Lisa smiled. She had affection for Sandra Hayes, not love exactly but affection nonetheless.
"Of course." She patted the seat next to her, but Sandra just hovered. What was she waiting for? She looked pale, a little nervous, her eyes bracketed with tiredness. Finally it was as if she reached a decision and handed Lisa a wallet, filled with photos, some in color, some in black and white, some taken from a distance, some distressingly close up.
"Jeff's women." Sandra said gently, sitting down next to her, allowing Lisa the time to look at them closer.
Lisa checked each photo, although it killed her to do so. Some of these women were just a little older than her daughter, than Jeff's daughter, and in each one, there were marks and bruises. Blood and cuts and, in the closer photos, she could see eyes full of pain. She twisted her hands together, tears rolling down her face. She'd always known he had a streak of hate in him, but as long as he kept his temper somewhat under control and his twisted demands away from her, she'd been able to blank the rest out. Yes, she'd felt his hands on her, and every time he took her he had to hurt, had to force. For the children she stayed. She lowered her head as shame flooded her. It wasn't just the children; it was the money, and the safety. Now she had the evidence of Jeff's indiscretions in glossy eight by tens on the chair next to her. She had known he strayed, but these pictures were horrific, bruised women, hookers with scars, cuts and black eyes.
"What do I do with these?" she finally asked. "I need to take them to the police or—"
"You need to do what's right for you and the children."
"I have to help these women—"
"There's nothing you can do for them now, but
you
need to get away from this family before this happens to you, or god forbid, one of the kids," Sandra said simply. Lisa just shook her head. She had no way out of this. She was trapped here in this prison of luxury. She had no independence, nothing. She stumbled to her feet, her arms wrapped around her chest.
"I can't. I have nothing. Everything I have is in Jeff's name. I only have what he allows me."
"Child, everything Gerald has is in
my
name. If you check, most of Jeff's assets will be in your name, less tax that way. You need to get what you can, now. Transfer it, take the kids and just go before he destroys my grandchildren, like Gerald destroyed my children."
Lisa sobbed some more, while Sandra just sat and watched, until finally Lisa lifted her gaze, steel in her spine. She dropped her arms and lifted her shirt, turning her back to Sandra, listening to the gasp, knowing what the older woman saw.
"He hurts me," she half whispered, facing Sandra and allowing her shirt to fall back in place.
"I didn't know…" Sandra sounded confused, shocked. "Please… tell me… the children—"
"I swear he never touched the children."
"How long until he does?"
Lisa felt sick with dread. Her children. She struggled with the decision. For the kids, she had stayed. Being with Jeff meant that her kids had everything they wanted, everything they could ever need. She had never told a living soul, but Jeff had taken to using his hands on her without love or respect, smacking her, pushing her around like she was some ten dollar whore. She had become a shell of the woman she had once been, and the children were changing as well. Disinterested in life, spoiled, greedy, stubborn, taking cues from their father about how they should approach life. For the kids, she knew she had to leave. They would hate it at first, but they would grow to see that she was right. With determination, she dragged a suitcase from her closet and dumped it on her bed. "Can you help me?" she asked.
Sandra walked to her side, closed the case and left the photos on the sofa.
"You need nothing from here. Let's just get the children and go."
* * * *
"What are you doing in here?" Jeff sounded stressed, exhausted.
"Waiting for you, son," Sandra said simply.
"Where's Lisa?"
"She's gone, Jeff. I helped her leave." Sandra was staying remarkably calm, not sure how Jeff was going to react, and then instantly knowing he was going to react with the same anger and violence he approached the rest of his life. She knew even as she said what she'd done that he'd hit her. Even as his hand connected with her face, the same as Gerald's had, she knew she deserved every smack, every punch, that she was being made to feel. Finally he stopped —the haze of red lifting— and Sandra on the floor in front of him.
"No one leaves a Hayes," he spat.
Chapter 33
Riley was poring over figures, his brow furrowed in concentration, his coffee mug close by. The Campbells may not want the Hayes money, but he wanted to stop the way the company was being run.
"So, if we are to make this happen and get installed at Hayes Oil, we need to look at figures," he started carefully. "Eden has twenty-two percent, me the same, Jeff has the forty-eight percent, and I think we can track down who holds the remaining eight. From what I've managed to find out today, it seems an offshore holdings company has a total of six and the rest is kind of spread around."
Jack leaned back in his chair, thoughtful, not seeing exactly where this was going.
"I think you should be looking to your momma to fill in the gaps," Jim said, emptying Riley's cold coffee and replacing it with a new mug of hot fragrant brew.
"My mom?" Riley looked confused, and Jim slid the papers over to him, leaning back to swallow coffee in one smooth move. Jack just stared at the paperwork in front of his husband, waiting for him to look and frowning as Riley pushed the whole lot towards him, seemingly unable to even look at what may be more damning evidence against his family. Jack lifted it and opened to the first sheet— certificates, in the name of Sheriton holdings, a total of just short of six percent, the offshore holding company they knew about. Jack dug further, linking the wording in each sheet, following the same path that Jim had. Blinking he looked up, meeting Riley's confused gaze, knowing his husband was scared of what was in the folder, because it would hold more truths about his family, more shovels to dig the grave.
"Sandra Hayes owns Sheriton holdings; she has the six percent." Jack was suddenly excited, remembering Sandra's visit to the D yesterday and her wish to help her son. "And if we can persuade her to side with Riley and Eden, just to give a simple majority, we can push forward with replacing the management team with a new one, namely your team."
"Jack, wait." Jim leaned forward. "Y'all came to me with this
idea,
" he waved his hand dramatically, "to force control of Hayes Oil over to a new management team, and on paper, it all works, the equations balance and we could do this. But…"
"But what?" Riley inquired at the pause.
"It's simple. I don't understand why you want to hand over control of the company, and unless I do understand, then I won't be signing anything." Jack and Riley exchanged glances, which didn't go unnoticed by Jim. He narrowed his eyes.
"A way back," Riley finally started, "I took over the land exploration side of Hayes Oil, the R&D arm. It was my baby, and it did well. I rode the wave of success, and I never questioned when the exploration turned to acquisition. That was Jeff's forte, his role. I was naive." He stopped, his hands twisting on the table in front of him, and Jack placed a steadying hand on top to still the nervous movements. There was vulnerability about Riley when he talked about Hayes Oil that inevitably made Jack switch to protective mode. "I mean, I'm not stupid. Hayes Oil is huge, competitive, a corporation that wields its power with finality. Some of the decisions that were made were out of my control, but they didn’t sit well with me, on ethical or emotional grounds.
I always knew I was wrong at Hayes Oil, like it wasn't me working there, but some stranger reading from a script. It just felt wrong." He shrugged. "I wish I could explain how unhappy I was. I started to plan my own company away from Hayes Oil, from the ground up, ethical exploration, ethical land acquisition, that kind of thing. I researched other petroleum companies, and there were other business models that I admired. I liked where they were taking their business, and I wanted to do the same to Hayes Oil. I couldn't, I lost it and any control I might have, and I don't think it was ever going to be given to me. Dad gave a larger holding to Jeff, never gave enough to Eden and me that would allow us to make a difference. He came up with this contract proposal, gave temporary holdings to Jeff, citing the crap that I had a year to get married for love, stay married for love, and then he would re-allocate the holdings more fairly. You know all that." Jim nodded, and Jack tightened his grip as Riley continued. "I was never going to be given any kind of control. I know that now."
"Because Gerald Hayes isn't your father," Jim said gently.
"He wanted to do everything in his power to stop you from getting any control at Hayes Oil. But he had a deal with your mom to provide you with the Hayes name and at least some semblance of ownership," Jack added.
Riley raised his impassioned gaze to Jack. "I
need
to stop Hayes Oil in its tracks, and the only way I can do that is to get my voice heard."
"How watertight is the twenty-two percent you hold?" Jack went to the crux of the matter, because parentage issues aside, they needed to be sure.
"Jim says totally," Riley offered simply, and Jim nodded his agreement.
"Okay," Jack responded, "let's get this thing sorted."
* * * *
Jeff sat opposite the skinny guy with the bad complexion, feeling dirty by association and wiping his hands on a paper napkin. He was like a fish out of water. The coffee in his mug was sludge, and the table was scarred and dirty. He shivered at the germs he was probably touching just by sitting in the chair. Still this needed to be done.
"The fire was an unfortunate failure," Jeff began, stilling the other man's nerves with a dismissive wave of his hand, "this is a simple observation process. Think of yourself as a private eye."
"I don't do observation."
"You do if I pay you three hundred a day, no questions asked." He watched the man's eyes light up with interest; exploitation of greed was always the best way to win a war. "I want every movement she makes off the ranch recorded and reported. I want your eyes on her and your ears to the ground for anything you can find out."
When he discovered she was pregnant… Well, this had become more than personal. He slid an envelope across the scarred top, moving his hand before the other man could touch him, and simply said, "Campbell, Elizabeth. Starting today."