Jaden by Tijan

CHAPTER TEN

There were two reporters by the front door. They were just inside the lobby and hiding in a back corner. A fountain and a row of trees were helping to cover them so the staff wouldn’t kick them out. There wasn’t much to identify them. One was dressed in business pants and a professional looking silk shirt, while the other had on a business skirt, a similar shirt as the other one. It was in how they were made up. Their makeup was flawless, but heavy enough to be noticed in person. Not on camera. On camera, they would’ve looked perfect. Their hair was also styled to frame their faces, but there was enough volume added to their hair to make it known it wasn’t holding up by itself. There were also two guys behind each of them, dressed in other clothes, clothes that weren’t meant to be seen on camera, but to be comfortable off camera. I didn’t know where their cameras were, but the fountain and row of trees were probably hiding those as well.

I made sure to sprint right past them, and as I did, I heard their gasps. One said, “That’s Sheldon Jeneve!” I heard them scrambling, but I went to the front desk. I got their attention; that’s all I wanted. Once at the front desk, I stopped. One moment. One breath. I had no idea what would happen after this, but I held onto the front desk as my knees buckled, whatever would happen—was going to happen.

I raised my head up. I was going to make this count.

“Miss?” The front desk clerk looked stunned.

“Sheldon!”

I turned. One of the reporters was coming right for me, and there was no hiding on her part. Her microphone was extended toward me, and the camera was perched on the guy’s shoulder behind her.

The front desk staff went into action then as well. “No press allowed.” The front desk clerk had gotten over her stunned spell. She pressed a button, then lifted her phone.

“Sheldon Jeneve, why are you here in this hotel?”

The second reporter asked, “Did you come with Bryce Scout or Denton Steele? Are you dating either of them?”

The front door slid open, and two more reporters ran inside. That was when the security guard, who’d been after me, cursed and veered for the front door instead. He grabbed one reporter and physically carried her back out. More guards were streaming into the lobby by then, along with other hotel staff.

Crap. They were going to snuff this before it even began. I had to talk quickly. I leaned into the closest microphone and looked straight at the camera.

A hush went through the room then. They were all waiting for me to speak. Not even the reporters dared make a sound.

A tickle started at the back of my neck, and I turned, pulled by some invisible force, and I saw Corrigan standing in a side hallway, just off the main walking ways in the hotel. He caught my gaze and a small, so tiny and ever so slight smirk formed as he nodded to me. That was his approval. He was giving me a nod of encouragement. I felt it, warming all of me, filling me up and tears threatened to spill. I blinked rapidly, holding them back, but then I saw Bryce appear beside Corrigan. They were both waiting in the shadows for me.

That was enough for me. Both of them there together.

I turned back around and spoke, closing my eyes and not giving a shit how ridiculous I looked. I was speaking from my heart.

I said, “I came here today for one reason, to confront the woman who cut my car’s brakes last spring. That incident was buried by the police department and ignored. It resulted in one of my best friends, who was driving the car, being put in the hospital—”

Light bulbs started flashing as I talked and someone asked from the side, “Can you give us a name?”

“Who cut your brake line?”

“Do you have proof the police covered it up?”

More and more people were filling up the lobby. After the first person spoke up, questions were thrown at me.

“Are you saying the police department isn’t looking at all the evidence? Is this a cover-up?”

“Are you being framed? Is that what you’re saying?”

I ignored all of them, needing to say what I had come to deliver. I opened my mouth again and started, “I was at his bedside when I was notified that another friend had been murdered.”

There was a sudden pause, but I knew it wouldn’t last. I could only imagine what they were thinking. This is when I opened my eyes. They were stunned, but there were others whose eyes were lit up from excitement.

This was my statement. Grace’s murder had never been addressed by anyone in my camp. I shouldn’t do this, but I was. I took a breath.

Here goes.

Clearing my throat, I said softly at first, “I’ve always been known for being mean, for being a bully, for pushing others down—”

A female pushed closer, jostling the crowd. “Are you saying you’re not?”

Another hushed her. “Let her finish, Annie.”

I started again, ignoring the interruption, “The truth is that I don’t push people down to hurt them. I do it to protect myself. I’m sure you are all very aware of my mother. Using me has become her ticket for attention. I do not endorse that, nor do I have a relationship with my mother, but I’m aware that I will never be able to stop her from this behavior. I bring her up as one example of who I grew up with. She’s my mother, but she’s someone who uses me.”

“You’re saying you’re the misunderstood victim now?”

Another person laughed. “That’s quite a defense, there.”

I shook my head. They were going to spin it into something else, but I had to try. I just had to try. “Grace Barton was one of those people I was cruel to. I thought she was a fake person. I was wrong. I learned she was a genuine person. She was one of the strongest people I have ever known.” I drew in a shuddering breath as suppressed sobs choked me. As my emotion was heard, the room quieted again. “Grace became one of my best friends, along with two others.” I glanced to the side. So did everyone else.

Cameras started flashing again, and I heard whispers. “Bryce Scout.”

“That’s Corrigan Raimler.”

“All three of them are here. That can’t be coincidental.”

Someone called out to me, “What about Denton Steele? Are the two of you still good friends? He drove here an hour ago. Is that how you got on the premises?”

I ignored everything; I had to get this out. My heart was pounding. “I need to be very clear about one thing. The headlines are saying that Grace was my enemy. She was not. Our friendship hit a bump in the road. She was taken in by a sorority in the hopes they could draw me in as well. I believe they wanted to use my relationships with certain people to help further their own house. I am not a sorority girl. In my experience, most girls have always stabbed me in the back so I shy away from large groups of females especially.” I paused, then chuckled. “Well, shy isn’t the right word. That’s not my way, but Grace didn’t believe me when I told her she was being used. She was blinded by the power of being accepted and being popular. She’s the one who pushed me into a glass table. She also helped vandalize my home and the night she was murdered, she confessed to all of it. Grace Barton was not my enemy. She had hurt me, but she was trying to make amends.”

This was the hard part. Even thinking about that night, I felt tears welling up.

Screw it.

I let them fall. This was my heartfelt speech. I had to make it heartfelt all the way through. I couldn’t hold anything back now. “I was stubborn that night when Grace apologized to me. I told her it wasn’t enough, but the truth is that it was. It would’ve been. I really believe that Grace and I would’ve made things better. We might not have had the closeness we had before, but I would’ve tried. Grace was a genuine person who had lost her way. She realized that fact and she took responsibility for it. I don’t know who killed her. I know the police think I did, but I didn’t.” My voice trembled. “I loved Grace and to whoeverdidkill her.” I turned so I was looking directly into the camera. I hardened myself. I made sure my voice didn’t wobble. “To whoever killed her, I’m coming for you. I don’t know who you are, but I will find you. I. Will. Make. You. Pay. That’s my promise to you.”

As soon as I finished, a surge of adrenaline filled the frenzy. People started pushing to get closer, knowing I was leaving soon. I could feel their desperation.

“Sheldon,” someone murmured my name. It wasn’t a reporter. There wasn’t a hidden agenda attached to that voice. I looked up, reacting to the intimate concern I heard. It was Denton. The flashes were blinding, and he held a hand up to shield his eyes. He said to me as he tugged at my hand, “Come on. You said what you needed to say. We have to go.”

“Denton! Denton!”

“Sheldon, are you threatening the real killer? Are you going to get revenge for your friend’s murder?”

“Denton, are the two of you a romantic couple now?”

“What about Guadalupe? Is she still with Bryce Scout? Sheldon, what do you think of their relationship?”

“You said you were here to confront who cut your brake lines?”

Hearing that last question, I stopped. Denton stopped as well. We were halfway to where Bryce and Corrigan were. Seeing that I had paused, they started for us. They were going to flank me and pull me from the growing mob.

I saw the determination on both of their faces.

Turning, I looked in the direction of who asked that question. Realizing they had my attention, they called out again, “Did you? Who cut your brakes?”

Everyone held still, waiting for my answer.

I had no idea where Maria was, or Guadalupe. I knew they were furious with me, but I was just as furious with them. Guadalupe took Bryce from me. Her assistant tried to take me away, hurting Corrigan in the process.

Maria was obsessed with Guadalupe, but Guadalupe was obsessed with Bryce.

So I said, speaking my first lie in this whole twisted tragedy, “Guadalupe Ramirez cut the brake lines on my car. She did it because Bryce Scout was going to leave her to renew our relationship. She wanted to hurt me. She wanted me out of the way.”

Then I turned and ducked my head. Bryce froze beside me, but as I moved past him, he and Corrigan formed a wall around me. With Denton, all three of them hustled me from the main lobby. Security staff was waiting for us, and one guy clipped out, “What the hell was that?”

Denton shot back, “Just get us out here. She could be in danger.”

He jerked his head forward and began to lead the way. We were shown down a hallway, through the kitchen, and down into a basement hallway. I had no idea where we were going, but then we climbed stairs, and a set of doors were thrown open. The sun was harsh, and I squinted against it, trying to see where we were.

I had no idea.

We were behind a different building, one that I didn’t recognize from the hotel. A car was waiting for us, and we climbed inside. Before Denton closed the door, the head security stuck his head inside. He looked stern as he said, “I’m warning you. The hotel is not happy with the stunt you pulled in there.”

Denton reached for the door. “Shut it, Deacon. My team will deal with any ramifications your hotel might drum up.”

“So, that’s how it’s going to be?”

“She did nothing wrong. I doubt Maria will press charges and Sheldon only spoke her side.”

“She lied.”

Denton stopped, glared up at him, and said, “Prove it.” Then he shut the door. The guard jerked up out of the way. Once it was closed, Denton pressed a button and ordered, “Let’s go home.”

Corrigan asked, after we had traveled a few blocks in silence, “So, to recap this last venture, was it successful?”

I laughed, emotionally drained. “I put the assistant in a headlock.”

“You did?”

Bryce chuckled. “She did. It was ridiculous to watch.”

I grinned at him. “I was trying to distract her and Guadalupe so you could get her phone.”

Corrigan glanced over. “Did you?”

Bryce held my gaze for a moment. More had happened up there, but I didn’t want to talk about it. He nodded, understanding me even though I had no idea how he could know. He said, “Yes.” He pulled out a phone, but it wasn’t Guadalupe’s.

“I wanted you to get Guadalupe’s phone.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered. She doesn’t keep anything on it worthwhile to us. Maria’s, however, is a whole other story.” He pressed the screen and started to scroll through it. Then he handed it over to me. Right there, on the screen, in black and bold letters was a text from her to Guadalupe. I smiled. I couldn’t hold it back, and it stretched from ear to ear.

I looked at Corrigan. “You asked if this venture had been worth it?” I passed the screen to him. “It was more worth it than you can imagine.”

Right there, on the screen, Maria wrote,I cut the brakes. Now that bitch won’t be in the way.

Guadalupe responded,Good. Bryce is mine.

“Whoa.” Corrigan’s eyebrows went up. “It’s right there.” He pressed a few more buttons and handed it back to Bryce.

“What’d you do?”

“I sent that shit to the cops. Now let’s watch ’em squirm.”

My sentiments exactly.