So why was the money so important to her? But actually, it couldn’t be just the money or she would have taken a check from me when I offered it. She was clearly determined to not let those men win. Why? What held her here? The woman made no sense to me. One minute she was stubborn as hell, the next she was soft and in need of my help, and then she would do something else to confuse me. Why would she put herself through all of this?
And as I sat on a chair by the pool, holding a full bottle of vodka, I questioned why I was here.
Why did I expect her to leave and yet, I stayed? I simply treaded water in the bloody chum as I waited for the Order to feast on what was left of me.
Jasmine.
But was that the real reason? If I was being honest with myself, there was more to it than just inheriting the family business for the sake of my sister.
I didn’t want the men of the Order to be able to break me either. I refused to let them win just as Portia did.
Staring at the vodka bottle, I also asked myself why I was still sober. I hadn’t even taken a sip. Why the fuck not?
Because of her.
She didn’t want me to drink.
And I cared about what she wanted… dammit I cared a lot.
“Sully!” I heard Mrs. H call as she walked out to join me at the pool. The woman looked frazzled, but I seemed to have been doing that to her a lot lately. “What are you doing out here?”
“I just needed some time to think,” I said, placing the untouched booze bottle on the table beside me.
“You left that poor girl when she needed you the most!” Mrs. H approached me and stood with her hands on her hips and a look of judgment painted on her face.
“She doesn’t need anyone,” I said. “She’s strong.”
“Damn straight she’s strong, stronger than you even know. But that doesn’t give you an excuse to throw a fit like a child and leave her alone in that room.”
“She’ll be fine,” I mumbled, waiting for Mrs. H’s wrath to end. I had learned as a young boy to take your lumps from the woman, and then she’d forgive, she’d love, and she’d send us on our way.
I glanced up at Mrs. H and took in her appearance. Standing with the lit-up pool behind her made me realize that she must have been a very beautiful woman in her youth—and still was. Yes, she was an older lady now, but not frail. Each wrinkle on her face made her seem wiser and worldly. She hadn’t changed one bit since I was young when it came to her temper, and her steadfast personality actually filled me with comfort even as she stood furious before me.
“You know what, Sullivan VanDoren, you can be a real son of a bitch sometimes.”
I inhaled deeply. Here came the tongue lashing.
“Your daddy is rolling in his grave over how you’ve conducted yourself since arriving at the Oleander.”
“Well, thank the almighty for that,” I said under my breath but instantly regretted saying the words when Mrs. H reached out and smacked me upside the head.
“Don’t you speak like that. You may have Daddy issues, young man, but that doesn’t mean your father was the devil.”
“He was an asshole.”
“Maybe,” she said. “I might agree with you that he lost his way as time went on. Many of the men in the Order have. But I will tell you one thing… at least your father lost his way. You, on the other hand, have yet to find a way to lose.” She took a deep breath, her chest rising, before she continued. “I know you’ve done everything you can to not be like him.”
“I would rather die than be like that man,” I spat.
“But you’re more like him than you know.”
“Mrs. H, I love you, but I’m not going to sit here and let you insult me.”
She took a step closer to me, which would have made it difficult for me to get off the chair without pushing her out of my way. So, seated I stayed.
“I’m not insulting you if it’s the truth, sonny. And do you think you’re the first VanDoren to leave Georgia to go find yourself?” When I didn’t answer, she continued on. “Well, you aren’t. Your father did the same thing when he was young too. He tried to run just like you but returned for the same reasons. Your heritage is a strong pull. The ghosts of your ancestors beckon, and you have no choice but to come calling.”
Her information about my father was news to me, but that didn’t change anything.
“You are a VanDoren. You have duties and responsibilities. You have your mother—”