Jasmine sipped the tea Belle had brought her, tasting nothing. She wanted something stronger. Alcohol that would burn hotter than the searing pain in the place where her heart should be.
She peeked out the window. Zoey was happily playing with her cousins. Her sisters-in-law and Mia all sat around her on Belle’s bed in silent support. Andre had gone to the inn, in case her other guests needed anything. Bently went with him, but apparently Atlas’s room was empty when he arrived, both brothers nowhere to be found. Mikel and Bently were in the backyard playing with the kids. Bently’s eyes wandered up to the window every few minutes, worried.
Jasmine closed her eyes, fighting off the tears. Embarrassment heated her skin. She’d let her guard down for the last time. She was just getting used to being loved by someone and then the rug had been ripped out from under her. A rogue wave of reality came crashing over her, pulling her so deep into the depths of the dark sea that it seemed easier to give in than swim up. Oliver was actually Zoey’s father. Atlas’s twin. She’d fucked one brother and fallen in love with another. How much more of a slut could she be?
Shame weighed heavily on her shoulders, wrapped around her neck like a millstone. Zoey deserved a better mother. Maybe she’d be better off without her.
“Jaz? Do you want to talk about it?” Remy asked.
No. She absolutely did not want to tell them what a whore she was.
You’re nothing but a whore.
Sucking me off—it’s all you’re good for.
You’re nothing but a tease.
Useless slut.
A warm hand rested on her thigh. She blinked her eyes open. Belle offered her a sympathetic smile. “We’re here for you.”
If anyone was going to understand this, it would be Belle. “Atlas isn’t Zoey’s father.”
The women exchanged confused looks. “What do you mean?”
Jasmine sighed. She’d made choices and now she had to face the consequences. “His twin brother is.”
Remy clapped a hand over her mouth.
“Dios mio,” Mia said.
“Why don’t you start from the beginning,” Belle suggested.
Jasmine explained what had happened as the women grew more outraged.
“El cabron!” Mia swore.
“I’m so sorry, Jasmine.” Remy pulled her into a hug.
“I’m the one at fault here.”
“How do you figure that?” Belle asked.
“I fucked his brother and was such a slut I didn’t even know who Zoey’s father was.”
“This is just one huge misunderstanding. You and Atlas can work it out. I’m sure—”
“He doesn’t want anything to do with me. He said if he’d known . . . he would never have started something with me. He was just here to buy my inn.”
Mia clicked her tongue and crossed her arms.
“There’s no way how that man looked at you was fake. He cared about you,” Remy said.
Cared. Past tense. “If there was anything, it’s gone now. I poured my heart out to him. I risked everything. I told him more than I’ve told anyone, and he threw it all back in my face.”
“Bastard!” Mia snapped.
Jasmine looked around the room, taking in the three concerned faces. Her sisters’ support never wavered. “I feel like the dirtiest person. I’m a failure as a woman, as a mother. I’m a slut just like he said. My mother knew it, and that’s why she killed herself.” The words tumbled out of her mouth. She gasped in an attempt to suck in oxygen. A weight settled over her chest, making inhaling impossible. Panic strangled her.
Three sets of arms surrounded her, holding her close.
“Deep breaths, Jasmine.”
“We got you, sweetie.”
“We’re here.”
“You’re safe.”
“You’re so much stronger than you know.”
“You’re not a mistake. You’re a survivor.”
“Deep breaths—one, two, three, four. Now let it out. Four, three, two, one,” Mia guided her.
Her sisters’ voices offered her comfort. It conflicted with the voices inside screaming that she wasn’t good enough. That it was all her fault. The shame that had seeped into her bones had consumed her since her earliest memories. Her sisters quieted the voices as the women held her tight. Their tears mixed with her own. She closed her eyes, clung to their combined power. She’d be safe to let it all fall apart while they kept guard.
Five days had passed since Atlas had left without a word. It was a struggle to get out of bed in the morning. Her family had stepped in to take over breakfast duties with the guests. She shouldn’t let them, but she couldn’t find the energy to argue or the motivation to do it herself. The numbness had settled deep into her bones. The familiar dark cloud blocked out the sun. A depressive episode, as Belle called it.
All she knew was that she felt empty inside. She didn’t want to be alive, craved the thought of walking out into the waves and never coming back up. But at the same time, those same thoughts terrified her. Because she could never leave her daughter. Jasmine had promised Zoey as she still grew inside her womb that she would be nothing like her own mother.
Zoey curled up next to her, sleeping in her arms. Jasmine traced her finger around her small, round face, over her eyebrows, down her button nose. Jasmine’s eyes burned with tears. Her precious, innocent daughter didn’t deserve any of this. Zoey was her reason to keep going. I’ll make it through this for you. I’ll be better. For Zoey, she’d do anything.
A soft knock rapped against her door. She slid out of the bed before tucking the pillows around Zoey so she wouldn’t roll off the mattress. She crept on bare feet to the entrance and opened it. Bently towered over her from the other side. His gaze flicked to Zoey.
“Let’s talk downstairs.”
She grabbed the portable baby monitor and closed the door behind her before following him to the shared living room. She only had one room booked, and those guests had gone out. It was just her and Bently, and the weight of his oppressive big-brother stare. She sat on the couch, hugging a grey pillow in front of her. Bently handed her a folder.
“What’s this?”
“Background check on Atlas and Oliver Remington. I had my PI friend in the city dig up what he could.”
She cringed. It felt like a violation to look. But did she owe them anything? Atlas had made it clear he’d come there to use her all along. Just like Oliver had, apparently. Her loyalty was to her daughter. So, she flipped the file open.
“They are loaded. They both work for their family’s company, Remington Empire. Oliver is married, going on seven years.”
She nodded.
“And his wife is newly pregnant.”
She sucked in a breath. Zoey was going to have a half-sibling.
“Do you want to file for custody? You can get back child support, and—”
She waved her hand in the air, halting her brother’s speech. “I just want to be left alone. I don’t want anything from them.”
“But, Jaz, you’re barely surviving here. You deserve some help,” Bently argued, sitting close to her.
“I want Zoey to have a father in her life who will cherish her the way she deserves. I don’t care about who he is or his money. I can take care of my daughter.”
He shook his head.
That’s right. I can be as stubborn as you.
Her phone chimed and the front door opened a moment later. A woman walked in, looking around.
Jasmine stood. “Can I help you?”
“Are you Jasmine Evans?”
“Yes.”
She handed her over an envelope. “You’ve been served.”
Jasmine took the note from her as Bently got to his feet. The woman disappeared out the way she came.
Jasmine’s heart pounded.
“What is it?” Bently asked.
She broke open the seal and slipped the paper out. Reading over the words, her hands began to tremble.
“Oliver has a court-ordered paternity test. I have thirty days to comply.”
“Fuck,” Bently swore.
The paper shook in her hand.
Bently pulled her against his chest. “I’m gonna get you a lawyer.”
She nodded. “What if he tries to take her away from me?”
“I promise we won’t let that happen.”
Bently’s promises carried weight. But would they match up against the Remingtons’ money? She couldn’t afford an attorney. She’d have to rely on her brothers again. But it didn’t matter because she’d do whatever was necessary to keep Zoey safe. Even if she had to give up everything that meant the most to her.
“Jaz?” A familiar voice broke through her thoughts.
Bently released her. She turned around as Emma walked over to her, arms wide open. Emma set down the motorcycle helmet on the coffee table before sweeping Jasmine up into a hug.
“What are you doing here?” Jasmine asked.
“I have forty-eight hours before I need to be on a plane to Japan. I couldn’t leave you hanging when you needed me most.” Emma squeezed her tighter.
“I’m gonna go do what we talked about,” Bently said. “Nice seeing you, Em.”
Emma released Jasmine. “You too. Say hi to your wife for me.”
“Will do.” Bently gave Jasmine a kiss on her forehead before he left.
“I still can’t believe that playboy Bently is married and settled down.” Emma shook her head.
“He deserves a happily ever after.”
Emma tucked a strand of her blond hair behind her ear. “So do you, babe.”
Jasmine shook her head, sitting back on the couch.
Emma slipped the backpack off her shoulder. She unzipped it and pulled out three bottles of wine.
“You came prepared.”
“Almost. I’m gonna go grab some cups.” Emma disappeared into the kitchen before returning with two glasses. “Just like old times.”
Jasmine smiled. “Except these are a step up from Solo cups and stolen liquor.”
Emma laughed. “We had some good experiences. Remember how Remy would be terrified the whole time that we would get caught?”
“Yes. She was always such a good girl.”
“Who would have thought she’d end up with the baddest boy in Shattered Cove?” Emma poured them each a half glass of wine before handing Jasmine one.
Jasmine sipped it.
“And before you tell me they deserve their happy lives, know that I don’t disagree. And someday, you’ll find that too.”
Jasmine took another drink. “I thought maybe I’d found it with . . . him.” She couldn’t say his name. It hurt too much. “I told him I loved him.”
Emma’s eyes widened. “What did he say?”
“He said it first. He said he’d be there. And then . . . everything fell apart.”
“Do you think he meant it?”
“I’d thought so. But then after it all went to shit, he said it wasn’t real.”
Emma sat forward. “Do you think he could have been lashing out because he was hurt about the his-twin-brother-being-your-baby-daddy thing?”
Emma—always straight to the point without sugarcoating. “It’s possible. But it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s over. For good. He hurt me so bad.”
“I don’t care what that man had going on, you don’t deserve what he said to you.”
Don’t I?
Everything he’d accused her of was untrue or she’d had good reason for. Reasons she’d defend with her dying breath. She’d made mistakes. She’d fucked countless strangers. She’d been the other woman before. But she’d learned and grown. She’d turned her life around and worked hard to become the person she was today. Sure, she had a long way to go. But she was proud of her progress. Not many people could live through the hell she had and break the cycle. She’d done that. Alone. Fought demons in the dark, wounded and blind. All for the little light she’d birthed into the world. She’d sworn that darkness would never touch her child.
Emma set her glass on the table and put her arm around Jasmine. “I’m so sorry. We can’t choose who we fall in love with. I wish we could. It would save us all some heartache.”
“I guess we both have a thing for brothers, huh?” Jasmine joked.
Emma slapped her arm playfully. “Bitch.”
“Did you stop and see Link?”
Emma took a gulp of her wine. “Nope. Came straight here from the airport. I’ll go see Dad at the garage before I head back. Maybe Lincoln will be there.”
“You ever gonna make a move and take a chance on that?”
Emma rolled her eyes. “So things can be even more awkward and strained between him and I? No, thanks.”
“Maybe you’ll meet the man or woman for you on this tour,” Jasmine joked.
Emma smirked. “Or maybe the woman for me is sitting on this couch.” Her eyebrows moved up and down suggestively.
Jasmine giggled. “I wish it were as easy as that.”
“I know. Too bad that one time we kissed it felt like I was smooching my sister.” Emma shrugged.
“You’re strictly a stepbrother kind of woman. Got it.”
“See if I bring you wine ever again.” Emma scoffed.
Jasmine took another sip, the alcohol easing into her system. A few moments of silence passed.
“So, what are you gonna do?” Emma asked.
Jasmine drained the last of her glass and looked her dead in the eye. “Prepare for fucking battle. If this guy thinks he can take my child away from me without a fight, he’s got another thing coming.”
“Yes! That’s the boss I wanted to see. You got this.” Emma cheered.
Jasmine was done being used. Done letting herself take responsibility for others’ mistakes. She was finished with punishing herself. She wouldn’t hold back. Zoey deserved better. I deserve better.