Part 8 (1/2)
”That's what you went back for, isn't it?” I asked.
He didn't look up. ”Please leave me alone,” he said, his voice tight and low.
Without another thought, I grabbed the picture from his hand and held it behind my back. It was brazen or stupid or childish, and I had no idea what my next move was, but I wanted him to talk to me.
”Feeling guilty for loving someone else?” I said, mentally cartwheeling backward over my word choice. Did I just say love? Did I just say love? I nodded. ”Welcome to my world.”
His face tightened, his dark eyes flas.h.i.+ng. ”I asked you to leave me alone.”
I pushed through the punch to the gut. ”And I asked you why you just went all Jekyll and Hyde on me,” I said. ”Who is Brad to you and why are you mad at me for it?”
”Did he send you here?” he said, his voice monotone.
”Oh my G.o.d.” That was it. I tossed the picture back on the pile and grabbed the front of his T-s.h.i.+rt, pulling him to me. Trying to get him to feel something again. ”You're being a d.i.c.k. Quit talking in circles and answer my question.”
He stared down at me, all kinds of p.i.s.sed off radiating from him. ”Okay, I'll play,” he said, which I knew should tick me off but I didn't know why yet. ”Your fiance-”
”Quit calling him that,” I said.
”Is the leader of the march to repossess my land.”
All the fire turned to liquid inside me as I processed his words.
”What?”
”That's right,” he said, walking past me. ”You still telling me you don't know what I'm talking about?”
I turned in place, stunned. All I could do was shake my head. He gave me a long look that I couldn't read.
”Right before the fire, I applied for a loan to buy some of the land on either side of here.”
I remembered what Jarvis had told me about that, so I nodded.
”So you do know about that?” he said, pointing.
”Just what Jarvis told me.”
He closed his eyes. ”Jarvis.”
I nodded again. ”He and May told me you were having trouble with a land deal-that was before I knew you were you.”
He blinked several times. ”When was this?”
”This morning,” I said, flinging my hands to the sides. We had just had this conversation. ”At breakfast? You came up to our table?” At his non-reaction, I continued. ”Seriously, do you not remember that moment?”
”Yeah, I remember,” he said, as if he were suddenly somewhere else.
I shook my head. He really was Jekyll and Hyde. Maybe I was better off not with him. I gestured with a hand. ”Go on.”
He continued to look at me oddly, but did a little head shake and kept going. ”They turned me down, so I went somewhere else. Got preapproved, but when they contacted the owner to let them know of an interested buyer, turns out that Beringson was the owner.”
”Why didn't they tell you that when you applied for the loan?” I said warily.
”And then everything flipped,” he said, ignoring my question and shoving trash aside with his shoe. ”My house burned down, and suddenly Beringson wanted to buy me out.”
I frowned. ”Why?”
”Because they bought out who I was financed with, and-”
”Saw the chance to score the rest.”
”Bingo,” he said, pointing at me. Not like we were in agreement, but like he'd just shown me h.e.l.l. ”I didn't want to sell. Not here and not my personal property. So they devised a new plan. They had it all reappraised and shockingly decided I'd been underpaying for years.”
”Seriously?”
He raised his eyebrows. ”Now they're trying to repossess.”
I was infuriated, and trying not to attach the Brad I knew to such a horrendous thing. ”That's ridiculous.”
”Yes, it is,” he said, facing me. ”And it's been going on for years now. All through Beth's death, Jamie's issues, legal c.r.a.p and unending insurance nightmares, the one constant has been Beringson Bank and Trust.” His jaw tightened. ”And Brad Marcus.”
I took a step forward. ”But Brad is just one man. He's one of the ma.s.ses-”
”Who has single-handedly led this crusade, Andie,” Jesse said, crossing his arms. ”He's come here himself twice to sweet-talk me and throw condescending insults on his way out.”
My stomach burned, knowing exactly what he meant. I just didn't want it to be true. I'd seen the absolute golden side of Brad. The side that was so amazing. I'd also seen his business persona on occasion. I knew Brad was ruthless when it came to business, but I never thought of him as heartless.
”Brad came here?”
Jesse stepped close enough for me to see the tired fight in his eyes. ”I can tell you exactly what he looks like, down to the bleached teeth and the tailored Kiton suit.”
My last little shred of hope fell. ”s.h.i.+t,” I said under my breath.
”Yeah.” He tugged at his wet T-s.h.i.+rt. ”I'm not as ignorant as I look.”
As he strode past me, back toward the horrible remnants of the storefront, I turned to watch him retreat. My whole body hurt.
”I didn't know any of this, Jesse,” I called out. ”You don't believe me-fine. But I'm telling you I knew nothing till May and Jarvis-”
”Jarvis-” he said through his teeth as he spun around. He crossed the s.p.a.ce between us in two steps, grabbing my hand. ”Come here.”
I went, not that I had much of a choice. He pulled me along with him, behind the bar counter that remained squatting like an island in the middle of ma.s.s chaos. Along with the five-hundred-pound register and commercial refrigerator. It amazed me that the bar, register, and stools were left unbothered. Then again, they were like the old cars built in that same era, solid and virtually indestructible, and probably all bolted together in concrete with the place built around them. It was sad to see such a landmark be taken down like that. A couple of the metal signs remained behind the bar, on the wall flanking the pantry where I'd been.
Next to them, where the pantry wall-door now stood ajar, was a still-dangling photo of Jarvis and May. It hung crooked and cracked in the middle, but still there. Resilient, like the people it portrayed, I thought.
”Is this who you met?” Jesse asked, pointing.