Page 64 of Myself

Her eyes find mine as if she just realizes I’m here. She then looks me up and down as if disgusted by my appearance. “What are you doing here, Jaycent?” Then she looks back at Becca. “Is your mother paying him too?”

“Excuse me?” Becca asks, and my eyes widen. Does Vicki know about what her mom has been doing? I’ve always hated this woman and never had a problem with telling her just that, but she has officially stunned me to silence with her words.

I look to see how far we are from the port as she speaks again. “Oh, don’t act like you didn’t know your mother was paying Conner to be with you.”

“Vicki ...” I snap.

She places her nose up in the air as she looks at Becca. “Oh, that’s cute. You really thought Conner loved you. When all he ever did was cheat on you. It was always just for the money.” Becca looks at her in total shock while Vicki turns to me. “So what is she paying you?”

I step closer to her. “Shut the fuck up, Vicki,” I growl, fisting my hands down by my side. She looks down at them with a smirk. “Gonna hit me, Jaycent?” I’ve never hit a woman, and I refuse to give her that satisfaction. She laughs and looks at Becca. “Like you didn’t know. Everyone knows. Not like your mother has kept it a secret—” Becca slaps her across the face, cutting off her words.

Vicki takes a step back as she gasps, holding her face. Becca moves toward her, and I reach out, wrapping my hand around her upper arm. “Get off my brother’s boat,” she says in a deadly voice, and I have a feeling she is imagining ripping her eyes out.

Vicki stares at her with wide eyes and her hand still on her face. “How dare you!” she shrieks and then frantically starts to dig in her small purse. “I’m calling your mother.” She pulls her phone out, and Becca snatches it out of her hands. She turns and throws it overboard with a growl.

“I’ll call her myself,” Becca says. “When this boat comes to a stop, you will be getting off,” she informs her.

“You all think you’re better than I am? That you can treat me like trash?” she demands. “Well, you can’t ...”

“This is my brother’s boat, and if he doesn’t want you here, then you’re not welcome. How hard is that for you to understand?” She’s screaming so loud, and everyone is watching with their phones in their hands. Although I’m glad she is sticking up for herself, she would kill me if this ended up on a social media site.

“Come on, Becca?” I say, pulling her back.

A member of the boat staff comes up to us, and Becca looks up at him. He’s dressed in a black tux and has his hands crossed behind his back. “Ms. O’Kane—”

“Make sure she is escorted off this boat once it docks.” She interrupts him, and then without another word, she turns around and heads to the glass door.

I follow after her as she makes her way through the elaborate living room and then down the stairs, a long hallway, and through another set of doors. We walk silently down another long hallway and then she storms into a bedroom. The walls a rich brown color and the bed sits in the middle pressed up against a big window overlooking the water. I can see the port not far ahead. The white bedding matches the color of the carpet.

“Becca?” I ask as I close the door.

She spins around to face me, her face red with rage and her nostrils flared. “Was she telling the truth?”

I wanna ask which part, but instead, I go with, “No,” and shake my head. “Your mother has never paid me.”

“No, about Conner,” she shouts. “It sounded like you didn’t want her talking about it.” I run a hand through my hair and sigh. “I can’t fucking believe you,” she growls. “You knew she was paying him? And you didn’t tell me?”

“I just found out—”

“When?” she snaps, interrupting me.

I look away from her and at the gold lamp that sits on the nightstand and whisper, “When we were in Panama.”

She gasps. “That was three weeks ago.” I nod, looking back at her. “That is not just found out, Jaycent,” she shouts.

I take a step toward her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you what she had done.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “You were so torn up over your breakup that I didn’t want to hurt you even more.” She looks away from me, and my chest tightens. “I’m sorry.”

“Were you ever going to tell me?” she whispers.

“I’m not sure,” I say honestly.

Her eyes come back to mine, and I can see the tears start to well. “How could you keep that from me?” She sniffs. “How could she do that to me?” she asks, shaking her head. Her brows crease, and she licks her lips. “I even told you that I didn’t know why he stayed with me when I knew he didn’t love me and that was your chance to tell me that you knew why. That he was being paid.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “I thought ...” She pauses. “I thought that what we have was different.”

“It is,” I assure her.

She looks away from me and nods her head as if she’s trying to convince herself that. “I love you, Becca.” I take a step toward her.

“Then why would you keep that secret from me?” she asks softly, shaking her head.

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