She trails off as Genny appears at the top of the steps with her overnight bag in hand.
“There she is,” Mira whispers loudly. “Go fix it.”
“But I—”
She pushes me toward the staircase. “Go!”
When I glance behind me, Mira’s already darted out of the foyer.
Great. I still haven’t had a chance to work out what to say. This is going to work out real well.
But I don’t want things to end like this, so with a deep breath, I rush toward Genny as she descends the stairs. “Wait, Genevieve.”
Without looking at me, she brushes past.
“Stop, please. Let’s talk about this, okay?”
She ignores me, making a beeline for the front door.
“Stop!” I shout again. This time when she doesn’t, I reach out, grab her elbow and turn her around to face me. Just like the night before.
And like she did the night before, she slaps me. Hard. Harder than last night. Hard enough that I’m not sure there won’t be a mark.
Possibly, it’s a warning.
Except, okay, I’m a dog. I’m easily trained. And maybe not the best move, but the way this scenario usually works out between us is I get forceful, and she’s into it.
So I pull her to me and crush my mouth to hers. I’m eager and invasive, my hand pressed behind her neck to hold her in place. And she opens for me, meets my tongue, lets me in.
Then, suddenly, she shoves me away. “No. Stop.” She locks eyes with mine, and it hurts worse than the slap when she says again, “I want you to stop.”
My insides feel like I’m caught in a giant squeeze-press.
I step toward her. She steps back.
I reach my hand out. She shakes her head.
Studying her face now, I see that her eyes and nose are red, and since I highly doubt she was upstairs snorting coke, I can only guess she’s been crying.
“Genevieve…” I don’t recognize the smallness of my voice. “I’m sorry. I overreacted. Can we talk about this?”
She continues to shake her head. “What exactly do you want me to say?”
Right. That. “I don’t know. You could start by explaining why you have business files for Pierce Industries.”
For a second I think she won’t respond, but then she says, “So I could be prepared when I talked to your brother, you jerk. Hudson gave them to my father.”
Ah. Well. That is reasonable. But… “What about the pictures of my nieces on your phone? Who did you text those image files to?”
Her face goes white as her jaw drops in astonishment. “You went through my phone?”
“No. I…” Yes. The answer is yes. Totally the wrong thing, yet I try to defend myself. “You left it on the dresser.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to go snooping through it!”
“I wasn’t trying to snoop. I was trying to find answers.”
“You could have just asked.” Funny, that’s what Mira said.
“Fine. Are you spying on us for Celia?”
Immediately, I know it’s another wrong thing. Genny’s expression goes from mortified to indignant. Her mouth clamps tight, and she whirls away from me, headed toward the door.
I trip after her. “You told me to ask!”
“I didn’t think you’d have to.”
Her hand is on the knob when I run ahead and place my weight on the door, blocking her from leaving. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have asked.” Right now I’ll do anything to get her to stay and talk to me.
She pulls on the knob, but I’m not ready to let her go. “What can I say to make this better?”
With a sigh, she drops her hand and hangs her head. “It doesn’t even matter.”
“It doesn’t?” Because I’m an idiot, I perk up, hopeful.
“There’s no reason to care anymore. It’s pointless. If your brother told you this shit, there’s no way he’s going to strike a deal with Accelecom, and I’m not going to begin to try to figure out what bad blood there is between him and Celia because it’s not my place, but I’m sensible enough to see where I’m not wanted.”
I can’t stand it. I don’t care what proof there is against her or what the possibility might be that she’s working against our family. My gut says she’s innocent. My gut says she’s really hurting, and I. Can’t. Stand. It.
With a bang of my fist against the door, I say, “You know what? Fuck Hudson. I don’t care what he wants.”
Genevieve brings her eyes up to meet mine. “I wasn’t talking about your brother.”
Knife, meet heart. “Genny, no. I want you.” I’m practically begging. “I want you so much. You have to believe me.”
She raises a brow. “Like you believed me?”
And the knife twists.
I open my mouth, but what can I say? She’s right. I didn’t believe her.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
This time when she tries the knob, I let her leave. There’s nothing else to do. Her cab is already pulling into the drive, and I can’t keep her when she doesn’t want to be here. When I’ve given her no reason to stay.
I watch after her car until the taillights have disappeared down the drive, my emotions twisting and building into a hurricane of despair. Once she’s out of sight, I take off in search of Hudson.
I find him alone in the study.
“This is your fault,” I say, pointing an angry finger at him. “I was happy. You ruined everything.”