Bespoken: An Opposites-Attract Standalone Romance (Carmel Cove Book 2) Page 20

  My mind alternated through memories of that night, a determined detective trying to pick up all the missing pieces. But facts got muddied in the incapacitating emotions I’d gone through—the fear, the pain, and finally, the security of when his arms closed around me.

  Mick had saved me. I didn’t want to be angry with the man who’d save me. The man who held my hand when I submitted my application. The man who’d let me in on his secret snickerdoodle recipe because of my silly desire to bake cookies. The man who’d worshipped me and my body like it was the most precious thing anyone had ever given him.

  Why did that man have to do this?

  Didn’t I deserve to know the truth about the man who saved my life?

  The eldest Covington leaned forward, resting one elbow on the table, he rubbed his temple for a second, and said, “When I got there, Blackman was already dead. Mick was caring for you, and Laurel was reeling.”

  I tried to blink away the tears in my eyes.

  “I was the one who told Mick he needed to get out of there so I could take responsibility for the shot.” Ace cleared his throat. “Simple fact is, Mick doesn’t have a license up here for his gun, so they would’ve arrested him had he stayed.”

  I swallowed over the ball that kept inflating in my throat, Ace’s recount matching what Mick had said to me last night.

  “I understand,” I replied. “So, he couldn’t have the gun. I understand that.”

  My lower lip quivered, seeing Mick’s tortured face when I closed my eyes, recalling the pain that ravaged the face of my gorgeous Goliath when he realized I remembered the truth—and therefore, knew I’d been lied to.

  “But why wasn’t I told after the fact? Why didn’t I deserve the truth, Ace?” I demanded with a force that surprised both Ace and me.

  He sat back and gave me a tight nod of respect. “Also my fault,” he admitted. “Let me ask you something, Jules. Why’d you come to me instead of Laurel? Or letting Mick explain?”

  My lips parted, taken off-guard by the question.

  Deep down, underneath all the hurt, I knew they’d kept out of the loop because they cared for me. Because, for whatever reason, they thought it was better if I didn’t know.

  “Because I wanted the hard truth,” I told him simply. “I wanted the truth that isn’t toned down because of my past or my injuries or because they’re worried about me. I’m strong enough and I deserve to know what was so bad or dangerous or worrisome that you instructed my cousin and my… Mick to lie to me.”

  His gaze assessed me like an X-ray machine that could see right through to my thoughts rather than my bones.

  “Fair enough,” he agreed, sitting forward once more with a hard glint in his steel eyes.

  I wasn’t going to like what he had to say, but I’d asked for it.

  “The man who kidnapped you—Blackman—he wasn’t working alone. He was just one of many soldiers in the Crown Cartel.”

  My head slowly tipped to the side, the unexpected information taking me by surprise. “A… cartel? In Carmel?”

  “The Crown Cartel is based in Los Angeles, but we have reason to believe that because of the location, accessibility to docks and shipping, as well as a steady influx of high-class clientele, they are trying to set up a satellite branch here in town.”

  “And Roasters?”

  “The idea was to use the coffee business as a front for smuggling drugs in from Columbia with the beans,” he explained quickly.

  “Oh my.” I pressed the back of my knuckles to my lips.

  “Point is, I wasn’t sure what they might try next or what their bigger plan was, so I told Laurel and Mick and Eli to keep the truth from you until you remembered on your own because it was safer. I don’t know what Blackman might’ve said or did or given away before he brought you to Roasters,” he went on. “It was safer for you to not remember until we knew more.”

  My heart thumped with low, laboring steps in my chest.

  “And now?” My throat burned as I tried to swallow. “Do you know more?”

  Ace’s gaze flickered.

  “You do,” I charged. “So, why wasn’t I told then?”

  My spine steeled, making me sit up straighter as he watched me, making sure I gave no signs of breaking before he finally answered.

  “Because I believe the cartel is going to use Rock Beach as its base.”

  Wrecking balls dropped with less force than my jaw as it fell open.

  “And, if you want all the hard truths, Jules, I believe your family is involved,” Ace asserted, letting out a long exhale like a plume of smoke after the bomb his words had dropped.

  My heart stopped.

  For the third time in less than twelve hours, my speech was robbed from me yet again.

  My parents? Involved with a cartel?

  I shook my head like I could shake his words back out of my ears.

  “No. That’s… impossible.” I rubbed the side of my head. “My parents… they would never… They wouldn’t associate with drug lords.”

  “Look, Jules. I don’t know your parents, and I don’t really know you. I’m not here to make judgments based on emotions only the facts as they’ve been uncovered,” Ace told me steadily.

  If there was any emotion to this man, I had a feeling it was under so many bulletproof layers, it would be impossible to find. But I had to appreciate his harsh honesty.

  It was what I’d asked for.

  “I have no solid evidence they’re involved.” I breathed a small sigh of relief when he said that. “But our sources say the cartel is looking to grow into a higher-class market, not just with drugs, but human trafficking and narcotics. And, if there’s any place in Carmel that caters to the powerful, political, and prestigious, it’s—”

  “Rock Beach,” I finished for him with a strangled voice. “But just because the people who come and stay at our resort might be interested in those things doesn’t mean my parents are involved.”

  “It doesn’t.” He paused. “But it also doesn’t mean they aren’t.”

  My parents working with a cartel… For all their faults, this was a hard thought to swallow.

  “And that was why I thought it best to continue to keep this from you,” he said slowly. “Best case, I’m wrong about your family. Worst case… you’d be living in the lion’s den.”

  “Do you think they are?”

  Several long moments of silence stretched across the table.

  “I think that family are some of the hardest people to see clearly,” he finally said. “But, to answer your original question, I didn’t think it’d make a difference for you to know who really saved you. It protected Mick from his involvement getting out, and your ignorance kept you safe at Rock Beach.”

  “I see.”

  “I didn’t count on feelings being worked into the equation,” he added with a lower voice and my eyes snapped to his. “Not part of my job to do that.”

  “I understand.”

  If it hadn’t been for my feelings for Mick or his for me, Ace was right; it would’ve made little difference whether he’d saved me or someone else. But because it was Mick, and because I cared for him, withholding that information had felt like a betrayal.

  A knock on the door drew our attention, Ace standing immediately, as the door opened and his brother’s head appeared.

  “Laurel’s here,” Dex informed his older brother with a scratchy, low voice.

  Ace looked to me and I realized he waited for my approval.

  Drawing a deep breath, I stood and nodded.

  A moment later, Laurel’s small form joined us in the room, her eyes almost as red as her hair from crying.

  “Jules, I’m so sorry,” she choked out, cupping her hand over her mouth and ducking her head, her shoulders shaking with a silent sob. “I never meant to hurt you. I was scared. I almost lost you… you’re the only family I have left, and I almost lost you.”

  A huge breath tumbled from my lungs as I moved around the table and re
ached for her.

  “I know,” I said, holding my cousin tight. “I just needed the truth.”

  “I’m sorry. I should have told you,” she whispered thickly into my ear. “I should have told you the moment you woke up in the hospital. I just… I couldn’t stop remembering how he hurt you… how I thought I wasn’t going to be able to save you in time… just like Pap.”

  We both crumbled, and her tears washed away any last traces of anger I could possibly feel. I heard the way her heart broke as she spoke and I felt in every fiber of my being that even if she’d done the wrong thing, it had been for the right reasons.

  “You were still recovering… and we didn’t—don’t—have all the facts…” She trailed off, sniffling. “I thought I was protecting you.”

  I took a deep breath and squeezed her gently, pulling back from her embrace.

  “I know,” I admitted thickly. “Ace told me everything.”

  Her reddened eyes widened and she looked over her shoulder at the man who’d managed to fade into a fly on the wall for a few minutes. “Everything?”

  He confirmed with a slight nod.

  “I understand how it looks. I understand the information you have, and I will do my best to see my family… clearly… moving forward,” I told them both, determined to stand my ground. “But I can’t believe my parents are involved. Not at this point. Not without proof.”

  Laurel shifted her weight, my declaration unsettling her with a new wave of worry.

  “What about these new investors? And how, with all the security at Rock Beach did Blackman manage to break in and kidnap you without anyone seeing? And what about—” She broke off, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. Fears aren’t facts.”

  “New investors?” Ace stepped off the wall and reinserted himself into the conversation now that emotion had cleared way for information.

  I met his gaze. “I don’t have any details about them, but my parents meet with businessmen and corporations and investors all the time, and I’m usually left out of the loop.” I hesitated, taking an unsteady breath and telling myself to think clearly before admitting, “Though this is the first group interested in becoming part owners of the resort.”

  And they were from Los Angeles.

  “Do you have any names?” Ace clipped.

  I clasped my hands in front of me, my pulse moving raggedly. “They only mentioned a man—Dominic Couronne—to me,” I said, holding my breath for any sign of recognition.

  Ace hummed and, with a brief shake of his head, the air trapped in my lungs evacuated, knowing he didn’t recognize the name.

  Now that I knew what was going on, I needed to prove to myself I was right about my parents; I didn’t trust anyone else to do it.

  “Jules…”

  I looked to Laurel, her gaze wary as it read my thoughts. “If you don’t think they are involved, that’s fine, but you can’t try to prove it one way or another. Please promise me you’ll be careful and let Ace do his job.”

  “I’ll be careful,” I told her, unable to promise to stay out of it though. They were my parents. If anyone could find out—if anyone deserved to find out the truth about them—it was me. “I have to get back.”

  I watched Laurel swallow, concern weighing down her gaze like an anchor.

  “I’ll be careful,” I promised her, hugging her once more.

  Ace opened the door to let me leave when Laurel blurted out, “Mick wanted to tell you.”

  I turned back to her, my heart leaping into my throat.

  “He wanted to tell you from the start.” She reached for my hand and squeezed. “More than any of us, he wanted you to know the truth, and it killed him to keep it from you.”

  Of course. He was always protecting me.

  “Thank you.”

  Warmth bloomed throughout my body, gently pushing away any lingering sadness and anxiety. These last few minutes had changed so many things—the truth had changed so many things—but it hadn’t changed that; it hadn’t changed him.

  Mick Madison would always do whatever it took to protect me, even if it cost him my good opinion.

  Even if it cost him me.

  Jules

  Years of expertly applying makeup to cover up disappointment rather than blemishes came in handy when I made it back to Rock Beach. The drive back had been slow and sickened with regret.

  It wasn’t possible.

  Was it?

  I let out a groan of frustration, wishing on any and everything I could remember the rest of that night—that I could remember what happened before Roasters. It felt like the key to the truth, and it was lost somewhere inside my injured mind.

  Dabbing the nude lipstick over my lips, I took another look in my vanity, knowing my mother would find even the shadow of a flaw in my features today.

  “Miss Jules.” I jumped as Mrs. Potts knocked and opened my door, flustered and frantic. “They are ready.”

  “Thank you.”

  I stood and gazed into the mirror.

  I’d traded my pants for a long, fitted high-necked dress, the shade a rich forest green. The dusty jewel-tone highlighted my tanned skin and blue eyes.

  Slipping into my trusty nude pumps, I folded my hands in front of me and followed Mrs. Potts down the hall toward the Chinese sitting room. They’d decided to do some modifications to the clubhouse for the Snow Ball next weekend, so the luncheon was moved to a more intimate setting.

  I muttered my thanks to Mrs. Potts as she opened the door for me, stopping short when the rest of the room rose to greet me.

  I’d been expecting more people.

  My parents stood next to each other, my father in one of his special, reserved suits with a hard look of determination on his face. My mother, wearing a designer pantsuit, had her head tipped up slightly, her expression unreadable.

  Though I hadn’t seen much of them recently, I’d felt her draw farther and farther away from me, ever since my father said it was fine for me to spend time in town.

  It was as though being there, with people she felt were beneath her, had somehow tainted me in her eyes.

  But it was the man—the single, solitary man—who stood on the other side of them that drew my momentary attention.

  They’d said investors, but this was just one man.

  Dominic Couronne was younger than I’d imagined him to be. I’d safely say in his mid-forties. His physique was stocky but clearly strong underneath his fitted suit, dark gray worn with a black shirt and black tie. His eyes were dark and inexpressive, and his finely trimmed mustache matched the dark hair on his head, and sat like a low-hanging thundercloud over his mouth that slowly spread into a bright white smile.

  “Mr. Couronne, may I present our daughter, Miss Julia Vandelsen,” my mother introduced me.

  Like I’d done a million times before in my life, I glided forward with a gracious smile, my chin holding a slight demure tip, and met his extended hand, several fingers marked with very large gold signet rings.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Couronne. We’re so happy to welcome you to Rock Beach,” I greeted him.

  A shiver ran down my spine as he raised my fingers to his lips—not the kind of shiver that comes from heat, like Mick’s touch, but the kind that comes from cold.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you, Julia.” He spoke with a voice that was as slick as a fresh oil spill. Releasing my hand, he pulled his cuff back down after it had slipped over his large gold watch. “It’s very nice to finally meet you. Please call me Nic.”

  As he released my hand and stepped back, razor-sharp black eyes oozed over me with the same inky weight his voice had. My gaze dropped, and I noticed how polished his shoes were—like he had someone buff them every night, whether they needed it or not, because he never knew what business he might have to attend to in the middle of the night.

  That was what he reminded me of—a man who was prepared for anything because he had his fingers in everything. And not in a good way.

  “Ple
ase, let’s sit,” my mother offered, nodding to one of the staff that we were ready to be served.

  There were a few minutes of pleasantries, my mother mostly gently questioning Mr. Couronne—Nic about his trip up here and how he liked the resort so far.

  I reached for my tea, keeping my eyes trained on whoever was talking though my mind drifted farther and farther away.

  Drifted back to the man I needed to talk to after last night.

  “Julia.” My tea sloshed over the side of my cup at my mother’s hiss. “Mr. Couronne asked you a question, dear.” A strained smile spread over her lips causing heat to bloom in my cheeks.

  It was one of those rare occasions where a question had one, been addressed to me, and two, directed in such a manner that my mother hadn’t felt comfortable answering it for me.

  “I’m so sorry, Mr.—Nic,” I apologized, setting my teacup back on the saucer. “I—”

  “Julia is still recovering from her concussion, Mr. Couronne,” my mother interjected, rubbing my arm as she tried to legitimize my distraction.

  My cheeks heated.

  “I was… sorry to hear about that, Julia,” he drawled.

  I wanted to take his words at face value but the way he said them didn’t sit right with me. Nothing about him sat right with me, and I couldn’t help but wonder if what Ace had told me was clouding my perception of everything here—if I was looking for enemies where none existed.

  “Thank you,” I said quietly, taking a small bite of the salmon that topped the luncheon salads.

  “I trust you are feeling better.”

  I looked up just to catch his eyes flick to my father before settling back on me. “Yes, I am. Thank you.”

  He cleared his throat as he nodded. “So, Julia, how do you feel about being involved in a… partnership for Rock Beach?”

  My fork froze. No one ever asked me questions like this.

  I licked my lips, setting my fork down and folding my hands in front of me as I quickly pieced together the most appropriate thing to answer that was the perfect blend of the truth and what my parents would want me to say.

  “I think, if my parents feel it’s going to take our… legacy… to the next level, then I’m very pleased… and excited… to see where it goes,” I finished with a smile.