Page 52 of Off the Rim
I relay the story the best I can, doing my best to keep a neutral tone, even when I want to spit out that vile woman's name. The story and the payoff alone are enough for me to believe every word, but I can't show my obvious bias. I need to see what Ashton thinks, what he does with this information. If I come out of the gate on the offensive, he could react badly and feel the need to defend his family.
"My dad told me that story after I found those pictures. It was right after his business closed, so I was fourteen, I think. He never specifically said that your dad was the boy from the story, only said his stepbrother's name was Junior. I never connected the dots, but when we were talking before the break, something triggered a memory of these pictures."
"That's why you asked if anyone called my dad Junior."
I nod. "I actually asked about that at Thanksgiving. Mimi told me that grandfather called him that, but he always hated it, so no one ever calls him that anymore.
He's quiet again, looking at the documents with more expression in his eyes this time. "Do you… Do you think they did it? Changed my granddad's will, I mean?"
"I don't know. This is a lot of one-sided information, so it's easy to think it could be true. But we have no real way of knowing. I tried doing some basic internet searches for any records of lawsuits or my dad's public claims, but I didn't find anything. I was thinking about going home to Pinecrest over winter break and seeing if the library has old newspaper articles."
"That would be the only place to find them, if this is true. If there's one thing Kenneth Richards' legal team is good at, it's scrubbing evidence. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if they were able to keep it out of the papers."
"You don't think my dad was making it up?"
Ashton chews on his bottom lip, then looks up at me. "I want to believe my father wouldn't have done this, that maybe he didn't know what was really happening, or looked the other way to avoid getting in Mimi's way. But Mimi… I have zero doubt that she would do something like this, or worse even. She's like the southern belle version of a mafia boss. No one questions her or calls her on her bullshit. Ever. Even my dad, who doesn't listen to anybody, falls in line when she makes her wishes known."
"My dad said she was pretty toxic. That he and Ashton got along really well until she got involved. He felt like she turned him against him. He was really sad about how they left things, whatever happened. Maybe it was because of the business shutting down, too, but I remember thinking that he felt very strongly about what he was saying when he spoke of your father. He even defended him."
"Defended him now?"
"He kept saying that Junior was under a lot of pressure, and that he'd lost someone too. My dad really loved your grandfather, and I think he loved your dad, too. He was his brother."
"His brother that possibly cut him out of a will illegally, and then basically harassed his business until he had an opening to bulldoze it?" Ashton scoffs. "I'm not sure he deserved to be defended."
I don't argue, because I don't disagree. I don't think Ashton James Junior deserves the toxic air he breathes, and a big part of me hopes he suffers consequences for the many, many wrongs he has committed. I'm well aware of the type of man the CEO of AJames Enterprises is. He's the type that lines politician's pockets to make sure they work for him instead of the citizens whose interests they're supposed to be serving. He's the type that bulldozes small businesses and gentrifies neighborhoods so the people who grew up there can no longer afford to live. He's the type that believes profit is more important than people. Even the people he's supposed to love, like my dad.
Like his son.
Our game against Boston College is a loss. I think Ashton blames himself for it, because he's been in his head since Friday night. But everyone played great, and Ashton and I were fire on the court just like we were last weekend. It was a good game and the score was close. Even Coach said we played well. "Can't win 'em all," he said. Away games are hard. We'll keep pushing. We can't let one game get us down.
No one goes out partying after the game, so there isn't an opportunity for Ashton to slip away unnoticed. He tries to get me to come hang out with the rest of the team, but I'd rather not. I don't have the same faith in his so-called friends he does that everyone will just magically decide to accept me because I'm with him. Also, I'm notwithhim, I'm just getting with him. Or I was. I'm not sure what we're doing anymore. Things have been a bit awkward since Friday. Ashton has been deep in thoughtabout everything I told him, and I wish I could get inside his head to know what he's thinking.
He seemed legitimately upset about what happened to my dad and his family's role in making his life more difficult. It's hard not to be angry about it, especially when you consider everything as a package. My dad said he didn't think his store closing was anything personal, but what if it was? I'm starting to understand why my mother broke down the way she did when she saw the flowers came from them. I thought the impersonal nature of the card was upsetting because AJames Enterprises had taken away my father's livelihood, but it was worse than that.
They were brothers.
CHAPTER 26
ASHTON
Why do I keep looking for him when I know he's not going to show up?
No matter how much I beg, there is nothing on God's green earth that could convince Marcus Vell to come to a frat party, least of all one thrown by Alpha Omega Psi. While Anderson and Preston aren't at the same level of obsessive that Sebastian was, they are still very much concerned about status and appearances, so it isn't an average frat party with a keg and red plastic cups littering the floor. The frat hosts an annual block party with kegs and food trucks, but that party is held outdoors, and only senior fraternity members are allowed to go inside the house. Regular Alpha Omega Psi parties are by invitation only, and they reserve the right to turn anyone away. A right which they've executed often, based on things as trivial as what someone is wearing or how hot their date is. Hell, I've seen Anderson send someone away only to escort their date inside. But people keep coming back, like they're honored to be abused and humiliated by the elite douchebags of America. We have the best booze and designer drugs money can buy, though, so it might not be the company that keeps them coming.
I hate these parties. I hate the people and the pomp. I hate the smell of booze and the cloud of expensive colognes and perfumes used to cover it up. I hate the two years I spent drowning in the bottom of a crystal tumbler while I pretended everything was fine. And I hate the memories that simply being here is forcing back into my thoughts.
There's a reason I haven't moved in here full-time, even though my father is paying out the nose for me to live here. He's also paying for the dorm, but it's not like he notices. I'm pretty sure none of his financial people are checking the receipts from CVU, they just pay the bill when it shows up. It's another drop in the bucket for him.He's probably not paying as much for me to be here as he took from Marcus' dad.I told him I didn't want to live at the frat house, because of what happened at GSU, but he said something that Preston almost parroted word-for-word the day I came to check out the room.
"The Alpha Omega Psi brothers at Cumberland Valley are a different caliber of people, Ashton. Had your little incident occurred here, rather than that second-rate liberal arts school for the so-called Hollywood elite, not a word would have gotten out."
He didn't care that someone had gotten hurt, only that his son and heir had once again embarrassed his name. No doubt it cost more to cover that one up than Kent's stupid court case in high school. He hadn't cared about anyone else then, either. Once the surveillance footage was found, he made sure it would never see the light of day. He got Kent's granddad to drop the case, paid people off, and scrubbed my name from every aspect of the case. But when I pointed out that Marcus should get some kind of apology, or at least compensation to recover from the loss of his scholarship opportunities for something that was unequivocallynot his fault, he sneered and told me to shut my mouth or he'd make it much worse.
"Hi, I'm Starla—” Disturbed out of my thoughts by the familiar name, I jerk my head up and look into a pair of wide green eyes. My heart calms, and I take a breath. It's no one from my past. "Sorry to startle you. You're Ashton James, right?"
Pushing off the wall and skirting around her, I shake my head. "Sorry, no." I find a new corner to hide in. This one doesn't have as good a view of the door, but I can still see people coming and going.
Pulling out my phone, I see Marcus responded to the text I sent earlier. I respond with another pathetic plea to save me from my misery.
