Shattered Dynasty by Ava Harrison
34
Trent
Two days.
Payton has been gone for two damned days.
The first thing I did when I got home that night was try to find her. I called her a bunch of times, but she never answered. She’s ignoring my texts too.
A part of me, a very big part of me, wants to call Jax, but seeing as he’s been clear on his feeling about tracking her, I know he won’t help me on this.
I’m sure she’s okay, but with everything happening with Paul, I just want to make sure. That last time anyone has seen her was at the presentation. Apparently, she stormed out of there. Which makes sense, seeing as I kissed her and then left her standing in the hallway like a dick.
I’m trying to give her space, but at the same time, my mother’s words unnerve me.
Pacing my room, I grab my phone and dial the one person I haven’t wanted to burden with all my Payton shit because deep down, I know she wouldn’t approve. I call her anyway because the truth is, she is the only person who’s always been there for me and will be able to help.
“Trent. Took you long enough to call,” Ivy answers.
“Hey, sis.”
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“Not true. I’ve just been—”
“Trent Aldridge,” she scolds, and I’m transported back to elementary school when she used to mimic Mom’s tone whenever I got into trouble. Which, admittedly, was a lot once Dad thought it was a good idea to make me into a man and toughen me up. Apparently, kindness is for pussies. “You’re my big bro. Don’t you think I know when you’re lying?”
“Fine. I’ve been avoiding you.”
She laughs at my brutally honest answer. “Spill.”
And I do. I start from the beginning, rushing through the entire ordeal because I’m desperate to get to Payton. Sue me.
“I knew you wouldn’t approve,” I say when I finish.
“Oh, really? You thought tormenting an innocent girl would bother me?” She’s laying on the sarcasm heavier than I appreciate, but my actions asked for it.
I shrug. “Yes.”
“At least you have the decency to sound sheepish.”
We settle into silence.
She breaks it with a soft sigh. “Why are you calling, Trent? I know it’s not just because you miss me.”
“I don’t know what to do . . . about her.”
“You need me to tell you it’s okay that you like her.”
“No,” I respond, too fast.
“Then what?”
I clear my throat, scratching at the skin of my neck. “I need you to forgive me.”
“You did nothing wrong.”
“I didn’t protect you.”
It’s the big regret of my life. The one I’ll feel every morning when I wake up. And every night when I go to bed.
I didn’t protect my baby sister.
How fucked is that?
“Trent,” Ivy whispers.
I can hear the tears in her voice. It drives the guilt deeper.
“No,” I interrupt. “Let me talk.” I clear my throat again, trying to figure out what apology would be adequate for something so unforgivable. “I never protected you from Dad.”
“Stop, right there.” Her voice is firm. An unbreakable barrier. “It wasn’t your job to protect me.”
“I’m your older brother. Of course, it was.” The damn lump in my throat won’t go away. I swallow, and swallow, and swallow again. “Ivy, I failed you . . .”
“Is that what this thing is with Payton?” She quiets. All I hear are sniffles on the other line for a few minutes. “Are you doing this for me?”
“Ivy—”
“No, Trent, you’ve gone too far.” Her strength is back. That’s how I know, without a doubt, she means what she says. “I love you for thinking of me, but this is not her fault. Whatever Dad did was not her fault. Nor was it yours. Be better than Dad. It’s time to let this guilt go.”
“But—”
“There’s no room for a but here, Trent.”
I’m taken aback by the hard edge of her tone.
I open my mouth to apologize again, but she blazes forward. “I didn’t ask for you to do cruel things under my name. I’m actually mad about it, and the only reason I’m not full-on pissed is because I know you did it out of love for me. It doesn’t make it okay, but I understand. Apologize to her, Trent. She deserves an apology.”
I know she’s right.
Worse, it’s the answer I’ve been hoping to hear.
Hating Payton while craving her is so taxing I’ve spent the past several months exhausted. I can’t even imagine how she feels. And now the guilt is hitting harder, only this time, it’s over what I’ve done to Payton.
“Okay,” I promise. “You’re right.”
“Of course, I am.”
“I love you, sis.”
“Love you, too. Now go,” she urges, and this is the demanding sister I know and love. “You have a lot to make up for, but not to me. Never to me.”
I hang up the phone.
The truth hits me hard, like a forecasted storm I should’ve seen coming.
Mom is right.
Ivy is right.
My grudge is unfounded.
My hatred misplaced.
I have been basically torturing an innocent woman.
I glare at the floor. At the dark hardwood that smells of the fucking lemongrass cleaning solution Payton made.
You listening down there, Dad? I’m no better than you. You raised an asshole. Just like you.
Maybe I didn’t sell Payton to a Russian trafficker, but I was holding her prisoner with blackmail.
There might not be any chains, but the monetary ones I wrapped her wrists with still cut deep. They tethered her to me. I used her hopes and dreams of financial security—of a life different from the one she was raised in—against her.
I need to speak with Payton. To tell her she is free to go. It doesn’t matter what she did to get that money. I need to call Baker. Get him to make the changes to put her in charge of the money as soon as possible.
I don’t care about any of that shit anymore.
Pacing my office, I try to think of what I will say once I find her.
Maybe she went back to school.
She could be with her friend, Heather.
Now the question is, will she let me see her, will she speak to me, or will she tell me to go fuck off?
I deserve to be told off; I can stuff it.
Hearing my sister’s disapproval, the way that she compared me to my father, I know she is right, deep in my bones.
There is only one thing left for me to do.
I pick up the phone and try to dial her cell phone number, but it goes straight to voicemail. Ever since my talk with Jaxson, I lost my okay to look her up and see where she is, but I am certain she’s at school. I still remember her schedule from before.
I try her phone again and again; it goes straight to voicemail.
This time, I decide to text.
Me: I want to talk. I know you’re getting my texts. Please, Payton. I’m begging you, respond.
I’m surprised when the phone chimes right away.
Payton: And you haven’t figured out I don’t care what you want.
Me:Please.
She doesn’t answer.
Although I can see that she read it.
Me:We need to talk. Can you come back home?
Fuck. I’m calling it home like it’s a place she belongs. As much as I want that, she won’t. She will want to be free from me.
Payton:No.
Me:It won’t take long.
Again, she doesn’t answer right away, and I’m sure she is going to tell me no.
I could use my power over her money to make her.
But I don’t.
Blackmailing her into meeting me would defeat the whole purpose of the conversation.
Payton:Why?
Me:I owe you an apology.
I don’t mention what for, but it’s pretty obvious.
Payton:Don’t worry. It was just a kiss. I haven’t thought about it since.
Her response is not what I expect, but rather than give a witty retort, I shrug it off.
That’s my MO.
Get insulted. Fire back.
This time, I’m going to shut up and not say anything
Me:Just meet me, please. I’m serious. Please.
I stare at my phone for a second and wait for her to respond, but after a few more, I realize she won’t.
Walking back toward my desk, I pull out my chair and take a seat.
My emotions are still conflicted.
I know I have to let this whole thing go, but at the same time, I don’t want to.
My phone chimes as I’m about to tip the glass back into my mouth.
Payton: Fine. But you get five minutes.
Me:Deal.
Payton: Where?
Me: Meet me by the library. The parking lot?
Payton: Fine. What time?
I put the glass down. Can’t be drinking right now.
I shoot back a time, then go back to work for a few hours, distracted by the upcoming meeting with Payton.
My phone rings again, and this time, it’s Tobias. I send him to voicemail. Not a smart idea, but I still haven’t figured out what to tell him. Once I have an answer, I’ll call him back.
Tobias has made it clear he wants out. He’s in the process, with the help of Cyrus, of brokering a deal to sell his business. That means an influx of money I need to invest. That also means I have all my feelers out for any tips of something that’s going to be hot.
Or something that’s going to fail miserably.
After the last scheme, I have to be careful. Although every relevant politician is in my pocket in one way or another, I can’t make it so blatantly obvious. This time, I’m going to have to rely on insider info.
I’m going to be active about it, placing a few phone calls and seeing if anybody knows anything that would be worth investing in rather than waiting for my people to bring the info to me.
I spend the next hour speaking to a handful of people.
One of Lorenzo’s men has the most information that will be useful. He owns a garbage and sanitation company, and after hours, they sift through and send me anything I need.
That will work for now.
But I’ll need something bigger for Tobias soon.
Standing from my chair, I walk toward the door.
It’s time to bury this hatchet I have with Payton once and for all.