Chapter 55

Chapter Fifty-Five

ZANE

The roar of applause is deafening. Dad mounts the stairs and stands center stage. He turns in a slow circle, waving to the thousands in attendance.

Camera lights flicker. Flashes of silver. Falling stars blazing brilliantly before fading to black.

JAROD CROSS FOR GOVERNOR

It's plastered over every concrete surface.

Campaign slogans blare from a banner that suspends above the auditorium. The bleachers are filled. Blue, red and white campaign posters are clutched in the hands of desperate worshipers, all here to offer their hopes at the feet of a man who would throw them to the wolves if it weren't campaign season.

Dad gestures, trying to get the crowd to calm down so he can deliver his speech.

It doesn't work. They keep chanting his name, keep screaming for him.

Beside me, dad's aides grin from ear to ear.

Behind me, the television crew makes pained faces.

They've never seen this kind of energy at a political debate, and they don't particularly like it.

Not that I can blame them.

The first time I stood on the sidelines and watched dad on his campaign trail, I thought the supporters screaming his name were his fans. And then, I realized there were everyday people who actually believed in his message.

Power .

It's what dad wants.

And now he has the attention of the entire nation . People who heard his music in the mall or on a movie soundtrack but didn't care to look him up before… today know exactly who Jarod Cross is.

And he's soaking it up.

I watch him smirk and take one more spin for the crowd, fancy dress shoes shining. His suit is perfectly tailored, a sharp navy with the top shirt unbuttoned instead of going all the way to the neck. No tie.

Dad went viral as the first political campaigner who dared to give speeches with his shirt unbuttoned and his chest tattoos showing. His approval ratings shot up overnight. Everyone praised him as ‘authentic'.

Politics is a circus and dad fits right in.

"Everyone, please be quiet." The host yells into a microphone. " We're about to begin the debate."

Dad shakes hands with Governor Chris Micheals, his biggest competitor. The bright smile on his face betrays nothing but professionalism. Only I can see the sharp teeth waiting under the mask.

I dig my fingers into the phone where Finn's message came in five minutes ago.

Finn: You were right. Micheals was the last name.

Nerves tighten in my stomach.

Dad seemed to have suspected because he had me forward a copy of the files as soon as Finn's message came in. If he announces the news first, my plan will fall apart.

I text Finn again.

Me: Dad will go in for the kill during his speech. We need to hurry.

Hands shaking slightly, I send another message.

Me: Is Grey with you?

Finn: Yeah, she's with me. But you knew that.

I did but the tracker isn't one hundred percent accurate.

I slide to the tab that shows Grey's location. The tracker is blinking a nice, steady red. I almost had a heart attack when the app went offline yesterday. It felt like I'd lost a limb.

Me: Is everything ready?

Finn: Dutch and Cadence are there with Vi. Sol had his lap dog calling all the news stations. It'll spread.

Me: This is Grey's official ribbon cutting. Nothing can go wrong.

Finn: I know.

Me: No delays, Finn. Or dad will cut in line.

Finn: Yeah, yeah. Stop nagging.

Me: And don't tell her I was involved or she won't listen to you. Just tell her everything was arranged by Jinx.

Finn doesn't answer.

I text back, but he ignores me.

The bastard.

Feeling restless, I swipe to Grey's phone number. I've started and erased messages over a million times since we split, but I haven't had the guts to contact her at all. The brokenness in her eyes when she told me she never wanted to see me again is like a ghost haunting me.

Knowing she hates me and doesn't want me around makes me miss her more. Sometimes, I catch myself talking to her before I realize that she's not there.

Hell, once, I tried to summon Sloane to me. At least then, I could ask her how Grey was doing.

Sloane didn't show.

She's probably mad at me too.

After being rejected by my wife and the ghost of her best friend, all I have is this blinking red light.

My most precious possession.

A nudge to my back wakes me from my thoughts. One of dad's aides, a brunette with a flirty, practiced smile, has her hand on me.

"Your dad," she mouths and points.

I swing around and see that dad is gesturing to me. The cameras have all turned this way. My face fills the big television screens on either side of the stage.

I barely recognize myself.

Who's that yuppy on screen? The one in a baby-blue dress shirt tucked into cream pants and Oxfords? The one not wearing any rings or leather bracelets, the one hiding all his tattoos? That's not me. That's the dog and pony show dad ordered.

I smile for the crowd, waving in the way dad expects me to. His supporters cheer at the sight of me, responding in exactly the way they're supposed to, almost as if it's staged.

The camera pans away and dad continues his speech, throwing in buzz words like ‘family man' and ‘traditional morals' as if they mean squat. I've been in the front row for a ton of these now and it still makes me want to puke.

"That shirt really brings out the blue in your eyes," the brunette says, smiling up at me.

I startle. I'd forgotten she was there.

Her grin gets wider and she bats thick eyelashes. I've seen her smiling at dad the same way. I'm not sure which one of us she's really interested in. Or maybe she wants us both to share.

What I do know is that I would have been all over her in the past.

She's got ‘massive daddy issues' written all over her. Catnip for people like dad. For people like me.

But now, the only thing that gets me going is thoughts of my wife. Thoughts I don't allow myself to have anymore.

Which means my bed is cold and empty.

Being celibate is… new.

And uncomfortable.

The dry spell is lasting way longer than I'd ever thought possible. There's a part of me that would love to take the edge off by dragging this woman to an empty room and railing the hell out of her, but I step away.

Grey hasn't sent divorce papers so, technically, we're still married.

That means something.

Even if she hates me.

Even if she never talks to me again.

I made a vow to her.

I chose her.

My pants are staying zipped unless the woman in front of me has curly hair and my ring on her finger.

"Morals?" Micheals' voice rings out, creating the perfect opportunity for me to walk away from the aide and shift closer to the curtains in the wings.

The lights are bright and both dad and his opponent are sweating. Micheals is what I'd picture a politician to be. Arrogant. Cranky. And way too old to be running for office again.

"I don't want to take any personal shots, Mr. Cross, but what would a famous rockstar know about morals ? Isn't ‘drugs, sex, and debauchery' the entire point of your music genre?"

Ooohs ring out in the crowd.

Some of dad's fans start booing.

"And," Micheals lifts his head, smirking down at dad in that snobby, old-money way that so many of mom's family members used to do to us during our family get-togethers, "as far as I know, traditional families don't have siblings married to each other."

A harsh silence falls on the crowd.

Dad chuckles and adjusts his mike. "You're making false accusations, Micheals. No one in my family would do such a thing."

"Here's the paperwork that was filed with the county."

Gasps ripple from the aides as a giant picture of my marriage certificate shows up on screen. Grey's name is blurred out, but that won't make a difference when the internet sleuths dig into the court documents.

Behind me, people are scrambling frantically. The brunette gives me an angry look as she rushes out of the room with a cell phone to her ear.

Lucien appears beside me and watches everything. Unlike the rest of dad's team, he looks calm and in control.

Dad seems relaxed too. His hands are hanging loosely at his sides. His lips are pressed together, not in distress but as if he's hiding a smile.

I speak to dad's henchman without looking at him. "You planned something."

Lucien says nothing, but I already see through him.

"Dad wanted Micheals to bring up my marriage during the debate." I inhale shakily. "Why?"

"It was bound to come out anyway but, this way, we control the narrative."

Power.

Control.

The two go hand in hand and dad is a master manipulator that can wield both.

It's terrifying.

"That's why he allowed me to campaign with him, isn't it?" I deduce the truth, my voice falling to a quiet hush.

"Not the only reason. Dutch and Finn don't have your magnetic personality. They don't know how to smile warmly, how to be charismatic, how to be likable. If they showed up, scowling and angry, in your dad's press pictures, he'd lose in the polls."

My lips curl up darkly. Well played, dad. Well played.

"And here I thought this was a win-win, and dad wouldn't need his usual schemes."

"Did you really think he accepted you just because of the list?" Lucien studies me with a bemused smirk like I'm a toddler showing off my artwork.

"That list is what dad built his campaign on. He cleaned out dirty politicians and shady leaders for everyone to see. The people think he's some kind of political vigilante. I gave him that power."

Lucien snorts.

My temper spikes. "I hit the campaign trail with him, traveled all over the country to smile on command. If he's exposing my marriage to Grey, I should at least get a consult."

"Did you ask him before you married your step-sister and complicated everything?"

I turn fully to Lucien. It's no surprise that he would treat me like an idiot. After all… dad does.

Thankfully, Lucien's opinion means about as much as the last dump I took. I have never and will never give a damn about what anyone else thinks.

"The file in your hand… that's confirmation that Micheals really did all those things."

Lucien's eyes widen.

I keep talking. "Of course, it won't reveal anything specifically about The Grateful Project. No, no ." I smile, acting like it's a big joke. "Because the yakuza would never give you ammo to use against them. What you have is something just as damning but completely outside of Redwood Prep. A prostitute scandal? Maybe a domestic violence accusation?" I place a hand over my mouth to cover an exaggerated gasp. "Maybe both?"

For the first time, Lucien loses his cool. His gaze sharpens on me. "How did you…?"

"Sorry to break it to you, Lucy, but there is a brain behind this gorgeous face of mine." I wink at him, unleashing my signature smirk. "I will admit, you're not too far off about me. I can be lazy as hell, but I am very motivated when it comes to women. One woman in particular, as you and dad know since you did everything possible to keep me from touching her." I laugh. "But look at me, defiling my teacher, marrying my step-sister and ruining your sneaky little plans anyway."

Dad's looking into the wings now, waiting for Lucien to give the nod of confirmation. Unfortunately, I'm the one who wiggles my fingers at him instead.

"Oh," I mock Lucien in the same, adult-talking-to-a-toddler tone that he used on me, "did you really think I'd let dad control the narrative when it involves someone as important as my wife?"

Lucien barks at me. "Who did you send the list to before you handed it over to us?"

I smile. "Who do you think?"

A buzz suddenly erupts from the crowd. It starts from the front row of the auditorium and sweeps to the back. The television crew dig into their phone pockets to look.

On stage, dad and Micheals are doing their best not to let confusion show on their faces. However, they're both staring at their respective aides, trying to get a read on what's happening.

The door backstage bursts open.

"Have you guys seen this?" the brunette shrieks, stalking over with her phone.

I look up at the giant screen that's projecting a live interview. Pride stirs in my chest when I see the woman who owns every inch of me sitting across from a blonde political commentator.

"You've been advocating for your best friend, Sloane, for a very long time," the host says.

Images of a bright and blue-eyed Sloane shows up on screen. She's in her Redwood Prep uniform and has her blond hair up in a bun. In the picture, Sloane's got her arm slung over a much younger Grey's shoulders.

"Yes, I have."

"And, as I understand it, your insistence that there was something more behind your friend's death fell on deaf ears."

"It did." Grey nods. "The police insisted that Sloane was romantically involved with a much older man. That he was her boyfriend and that he killed her when she tried to break up with him, but this isn't true. The man who went to prison for her murder wasn't involved with her at all."

"Recently, the man in question, Slavno, died in prison of a heart attack." A mug shot of Slavno in prison attire is thrown up next. "But you believe this was a cover-up."

"I do. Slavno was working with me to reveal who was really taking advantage of Sloane, but before I could get his confession, he was murdered."

On stage, Micheals is panicking.

But dad's stare is drilling into me. I can feel his anger from a million miles away.

I'd enjoy the sweet, sweet taste of victory, but I can't tear my eyes off my wife. Grey's hair is pulled back into an elegant bun, but a few curls still frame her pretty face. She's got something shimmery on her lips, probably courtesy of Vi's makeup services. The outfit she's wearing is a tan pantsuit that, while professional, can't hide her glorious curves.

The interviewer dips her head. "Tell me, Grace, why have you decided to come out now and reveal the truth?"

"Because I have undeniable proof that Governor Chris Micheals has a history of physical abuse, extortion and hiring underage girls to entertain at his luxurious parties." Grey turns and faces the camera. "And one of those underage girls was my best friend, Sloane."

Jinx: Snow White and The Snare Queen

Who says the Queen always has to be evil? Our Snare Queen got the attention of the world by sticking up for her little Snow White. A kiss won't be able to wake that princess from her dreams, but at least the ones who gave Snow White her poisoned apple will live inside of a nightmare.

I guess there's only one thing left to say.

Long…

Live…

The Queen.

Until next time, keep your enemies close and your secrets even closer,

Jinx