34. Till Forever Falls Apart

CHAPTER 34

TILL FOREVER FALLS APART

ASHE, FINNEAS

I'm cleaning up the tornado that is Bex staying in my living room when there's a knock at my door. It's so soft I almost don't hear it over the music. I open the door to find James, struggling to hold a box between his hip and good arm. I take the box from him and put it on the table as he stands by the door. He looks like a lost puppy, and it's likely because I've been distant lately.

"You know you can come in."

"Yeah, I…didn't want to bother you."

"You're not. Sam gave me some time off to deal with things."

He walks over, sitting on the other side of the table. "It's, uhm, it's for you."

I open the box and it's full of painting supplies. Jars and tubes of paint, brushes, things that I'm not even sure what they are. "You might have brought the wrong box." I mumble and hold up one of the jars.

I feel bad pointing it out to him because he's been trying so hard—a little too hard at times—to act like he's fine. I can see how much pain he's still in and every time he winces or moves strangely, I just remember that I'm the reason this happened. How do you tell the man you're pretty sure you're hopelessly in love with that he's a daily reminder of the worst night of your life? Every new scar on his body is there because of knowing me.

"No, that's the right box." He pulls out a jar of red paint and holds it up. "We can start with the wall behind the Rent art piece you did."

"Start what?"

"Our therapy?" He puts the jar down and runs his hand through his hair. It's grown so much, it's almost to his shoulders. Natalie has offered to come over and cut it, but he declines every time. "Your therapist helps, I can tell. But, I thought we could work on painting the walls here. Maybe a gigantic mural or even just a solid color. Something we could do together. Something, to…" his voice trails off and he mumbles the rest, "Are you leaving me?"

"What?"

"You're pulling away. You don't mean to, I can't even blame you. I wanted to do something special for you, with you. I want to help you get yourself back. Get us back." He frows at the box of paints. "I don't even know if it will work, but it's the only damn thing I've got."

He's right. I'm a shell and I have been since that night. I don't laugh unless it's fake. I haven't done a single design since Sam pulled us both off the project without an explanation beyond ‘ it's nothing personal'. I'm not me anymore. I'm even doubting if I love James, which is stupid because I do and he's done nothing wrong.

"Oh, uhm. Painting might need to wait. Mom wants to sign the place over to me, but that's in limbo and, frankly, I don't want to stay here. Bex and I are going out tomorrow to look at apartments while you're at your physical therapy appointment. She said she found a few I can afford and might like."

"Oh."

I didn't even tell him I was moving out—I guess I'm pulling away from everyone faster than I thought.

"Yeah." I take the jars and put them carefully back into the box, sealing it back up. "The lawyer is looking over the paperwork and trying to see what can be done. If I keep it, I'll rent it out. I've always hated it here because they owned it; it was never mine."

"That makes sense. It's probably weird living next door to your new therapist, too."

He's picking at the cast on his wrist, not wanting to make eye contact. He's two feet away from me and it feels like we're miles apart. The silence is no longer comfortable, it's deafening. I stand and go to pick the box back up when he says something I don't catch. "What?"

His glistening eyes meet mine when he lifts his head. "Stay with me."

"Like, right here where I'm standing? James, I need to?—"

"No, that's not what I mean. I mean, move in with me."

"James, I don't…that's probably a terrible idea."

"Why? Because we've only known each other for a few months? Fuck that, we've been through more than most people go through in a year…or a lifetime, and we did it together." He stands up and takes the box from me, struggling a little to do it one handed. "Move in with me. You can have your own room—I'll clear out dad's room for you. We can convert the dark room to an office for you to work out of when you're not at Sam's. Hell, you'll have a whole art studio at your disposal if you want to go back to making your pieces."

I close my eyes and purse my lips.

"Please? We can bring your furniture if you want. If it's the drive to work, I'll drive you. Every fucking day." He sighs when I don't answer, shifting the box on his hip. "Just think it over, okay?"

"Why?" I asked as he heads to the door. "I'm miserable and angry, and I'm the reason you're in pain. Why would you want me there reminding you of that every damn day?"

He puts the box on the couch and comes back over to me, holding my face in both hands and completely ignoring the sling he's still in. "Because I was miserable and angry until I found you. Because I was in so much more pain before I found you. Because I want to wake up to the smell of coffee and cherry blossoms for the rest of my life. Because I didn't blame you then, I don't blame you now, and I will never blame you for the decisions fucked up people make. But more important than all of that, more important than anything at all, is because I love you, Alexis Strauss. I love you so much and I hope that someday, when I ask you to marry me, you'll be able to see past all of this, say yes, and let me love you, anyway."

"Yes."

"What?"

"I would say yes if you asked me to marry you right now. Broke and broken. I would say yes, if you'd have me. So yes, I'll move in with you, James." I expect him to kiss me. I expect him to change his mind. I expect him to realize he doesn't love me and just leave. I don't expect him to drop to one knee right there in the living room.

"Alexis, I am broke, but I am not broken because you are the glue keeping me whole. I don't have a ring, but…marry me? Right now. We'll go to Vegas."

"Vegas?"

"Let me call Coop and Steve. You can call Bex and Dani." He stands with a wince and starts pacing around, planning the trip out in his head. "I need to grab some stuff from the house. How fast can you—Wait, you're serious, right? That was a yes?"

"If that was a serious proposal. Yes. Yes, James I don't know your middle name Barton. I would marry you today."

There's a hard knock on the front door just as James is about to say something, and my whole body goes numb. It could be one of them. They could have posted bail and now they're here to finish what they started. I've been terrified of every loud noise, every shout, every police siren—in Los Angeles, those are all everyday background sounds. People love to talk about fight and flight, but they always forget those of us who just freeze and shut down. Dr. Clay says that I am stuck in a cycle. He's working to find something that works for someone like me to break the cycle of stress I'm putting myself through. So far, it's only helped temporarily.

"Hello, I'm Humberto Diaz. Is Ms. Strauss home?" The man at the door introduces himself to Jamie. He looks back at me and I nod, so he opens the door and lets two men in. "Good morning, ma'am. We promise this won't take long. Mr. Stan Morgan, your lawyer, hired us. We're private investigators and we've found some new information regarding your case."

He then turns to Jamie. "You wouldn't be James Barton, would you?"

"Yes, I am."

"Good, this involves you, too."

My stomach does more than lurch and I can taste the bile climbing up my throat until Jamie steps behind me and takes my hand. "Let's sit down, okay?" he whispers in my ear and then leads me over to a chair while the two PIs sit on the couch. "I'll go get you some water."

"Ma'am, we've learned that your stepfather and Mr. Jones may not have been working alone." Diaz explains. He's older and has a light Hispanic accent. "We dug into their finances after we got a lead and we found several large deposits made to each of them. Have either of you heard anything about a company called Cynosure?"

I shake my head. James calls out from the kitchen that it sounds familiar. The second PI holds up his phone, showing me a picture. Before I can say her name, the glass James was carrying drops to the floor and shatters. I jump and scream at the sound, and Jamie rushes over to me to calm me.

"I take it that you know her?" The second PI asks as he grabs a towel and cleans the water for us.

"Elle. Her name is Elliana Petrov. She's my sister."

"Your sister? What can you tell us about her?"

"Not much. In her whole life, we've spent a grand total of a week around each other." Diaz makes a rumble noise and I take Jamie's arm and hold it tight. "What does she have to do with this?"

"Well, I'm not sure how to tell you both this, but what we've found leads us to believe she paid Miller and Jones to attack you. It's just a little odd that she's got a familial tie to?—"

"No, it makes perfect sense. My sister was following us, stalking us, just like we told the cops. She hates me and apparently I'm in her way of some big fortune from my mother's company. That's Cynosure, isn't it? Fuck."

"Oh, my god." The world spins as it all makes more and more sense. "How? She couldn't have done this all that fast."

"Well, we may have an answer to that as well," Diaz answers. "You both work for a Mr. Sam Greene, correct?"

"Yeah, I freelance. Lex is a full-time designer there. Why?"

"Because your sister created a number of shell companies and used them methodically to get you fired from all of your other jobs." The second PI answers. "She wanted to push you into a position with Mr. Greene's company. Now that I know who she is, I'm guessing that was because Mr. Greene was close to your father. She's been working on it for months, and in the meantime, she was searching for the right target."

"Fuck, she was going after everyone."

"Sorry, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Joe, Joe Mills. I work in cyber security issues mostly, which is why I'm here to learn about Ms. Petrov. The cops have a file on her already, and I've been following her for a while now for various cyber crimes."

"The cops weren't getting anywhere and neither your step father or Jones was talking." Diaz explained. "Which isn't a surprise, but once Mills went to Mr. Morgan with what he found, they took it to the detectives on your case and the District Attorney's office.

"Now that we have more info on them, Mr. Jones has started singing. He thinks if he talks, they'll go easy on him. He's already confessed that Elle approached him months ago."

"We'd only just met. That doesn't make sense," Jamie says as he sits down on the arm of the chair, still rubbing my back.

"Actually, you hadn't met Ms. Strauss yet, according to the timeline." Mills clarifies. "She had files on you, Ms. Strauss, and several other coworkers of yours. It looks like she was narrowing the search down and looking for the…right victim. She approached your stepfather first, and that set the plan in motion. We believe she discovered his extramarital affairs with numerous young women, and likely uncovered his past violations again you."

Diaz hands me a folder, and I flip through it, finding pictures of Kennedy, Dani, and a few other women in our office. "The plan was to assault you and frame Mr. Barton. She arranged to have you working that job together to guarantee out-of-town travel so it would be…easier to go through with the plan."

"The text. She threatened to send some…videos of me to my stepfather. She said he'd like them." This is all so surreal, but James doesn't even seem surprised. "That's where they got the money for the new church, isn't it? She's the big donor?"

"Yes, ma'am." Diaz answers. "Noah Jones and your stepfather have a pretty fucked up past. Elle Petrov found out about it and used it to her advantage. Once your relationship started, they adjusted the plan. Jones said it was Miller's idea to lure Mr. Barton out and kill him. Then Petrov would sabotage your career, Ms. Strauss. Leaving you nowhere to turn, except your mother, your stepfather, and Jones."

"So they did all of this for more fucking money? They have a fucking beach house in Malibu! They have a giant fucking cult!"

Mills sighs and rubs the back of his neck, "It wasn't just money, ma'am. Based on multiple emails involving your stepfather, mother, and Noah Jones, it was planned that once Elle was finished, you would be given to Jones as a twisted, messed up reward. We've got a mountain of emails to back it up."

Jamie stiffens, I can feel the rage building in him and then ebb into sorrow. He blames himself because he wasn't there for me. I don't.

"There's additional evidence against your stepfather in those emails as well. Images." Mills added with a sympathetic look while Jamie squeezed my shoulder. "Your mother is claiming her email was setup by someone else, but I don't think that's true.

Diaz pulls out his phone. "Mr. Barton, we found a record of you and a young lady being brought to the hospital in San Diego. Do you remember this incident?" He holds up his phone, showing James a picture of a pretty blonde woman I've never seen before.

"Yeah, I do."

"Petrov's backup drives had an invoice for a sedative usually reserved for large animals. It was found in your system, and the system of the young lady."

"Fuck. She almost killed us."

"We're dropping all of this information in a pretty little bow to the DA's office soon. He'll be going after her for the attempted murder of both you and the young woman on top of everything else."

"That all seems so…extreme."

"She wants the money and fame and power, just like mom," James said in a distant voice. "If the plan had worked, this would have been a win-win from her perspective."

"How?" I ask him. This all sounds like some far-fetched plot of a crime show and I'm just waiting for some quippy one-liner before some song by The Who starts playing. It's insane.

"Because, in one plan, I'm in jail for assaulting you. In the other plan, I'm dead. She doesn't care who she hurts, so long as I get hurt along the way, too. If I'm dead, she inherits all of Dad's shares and mine. She'd get everything."

"James…I…" I squeeze his hand, unable to find the words.

"Cynosure is currently worth over three billion dollars. They announced yesterday that they were making some higher level staff adjustments. They're covering their asses," Mills informs us. "When, not if, you get an NDA in exchange for a large sum of cash, let us know. You have more than enough to bring that entire company to its knees with a scandal this bad."

I sit on the couch, staring at the floor while they continue to talk, until I felt someone beside me pull me toward them. I glance around and realize it's just James and me now.

"You want me to start a bath for you, Angel?"

"No," I whimper. The walls I'd built over the years have all crumbled to dust and I can't tell if it's a good thing or not. Ronnie and Noah are going to prison—maybe my mother, too. I try not to speculate about what they had planned to do with me or why they really believed they could get away with it. It reminds me of the true crime shows I watch with Dani where the culprits are always so surprised they get caught. I wonder if they would have gone after Bex to keep me quiet. It would have worked.

Jamie's playing with something in his hand, but I can't see what it is until he holds it up to me. It's a ring.

"Mills said they found it at the scene. They got the cops to release it from evidence, since all it did was prove I was at the junkyard, which was obvious." He takes my hand and rubs my ring finger. "I was going to propose to you at Chase's place that night. I had the whole house decked out with cherry blossoms and roses. Dog sitting was kind of a lie."

"James…"

"I wanted it to be perfect."

I glance up from the ring and into his beautiful eyes, glad I can see them both again. Even banged up and bruised, he's absolutely gorgeous, but more importantly, he's mine. I have to help him get on one knee this time, and I can see it's painful for him, but he insists. He wants to do this right.

"Alexis, I'm not rich—I don't even think I have a job—and I'm a pain in the ass. I can't promise you anything more than all of me, and I hope that's enough. Will you marry me?"

"Do you like Alexis Barton or James Strauss better?"

"How about Countess Alexis der VanDerVander and her aloof boy toy?"

"So, is that a yes?"

"No. It's a hell yes, pretty boy."

I'm crying, but I'm also laughing for the first time in weeks when my phone rings and I see Dani's name pop up.

"Hey."

"Hey, is Jamie with you? Are you crying?"

"Yeah and yes, but it's not sad tears. Why?"

"Cool, can you guys come down to Sam's? The cops are here and they need some info from you both. I'm not here to fuck with cops. Ugh, please come down here and get this sorted so Sam can get back to work and stop being a pain in my ass."

"Yeah, okay. We'll head there now."