Chapter 63: Chapter 63

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"You look like shit."

"I feel like shit." Jenson sighed. "Nice hair."

"Yeah? Used to call this rehab cut."

Rehab cut. "Sounds kinda wrong." He made a face. "But also kinda funny." Jenson slid the glass door closed as he matched his friend's lackluster grin.

Unlike the spacious dining room, this part of Dr. Rasmussen's house needed some bright lights. Some ventilation. But this mansion's interior and exterior design still rivaled the pages of famous architectural magazines.

Seeming oblivious, Darren kept his old varsity jacket zipped and leaned against the thick column. He gripped and stared at his phone, the glowing screen highlighting frown lines and the bags under his eyes. "Still season break, anyway. Give it two months."

"Sure." Jenson cleared his throat and stepped closer. No hint of booze, or anything worse. Good enough. And for a change, his friend looked like he should be wearing a tailored suit tonight like the other guests downstairs. The VIPs. "Dinner?"

"Nah. I'm good."

"What'd you say to her?"

"Huh?"

"Were you fighting again?"

Darren wouldn't stop scrolling through the messages in his inbox.

Was he waiting for an important text? Or a call?

"Or she talked to you about him?"

"Magnus?" Darren scowled and looked up from his phone. He sounded tired as they expected, voice gruff. Tufts of his dark brown hair looked unkempt.

Jenson took a step back and nodded. "Evie looked like she, er, was freakin' out, after she read your text."

Darren sighed, his phone stealing his full attention once more. "She thought I was driving by myself."

Right. Did Evie think her brother shouldn't be driving for now? Maybe she just worried her brother might be under the influence again.

Jenson arched a brow and crossed his arms. "Were you?"

"No. Zeke drove the truck."

"Ezekiel?"

"Yeah. Why? The old bastards downstairs waitin' for him, too?"

"I dunno. Maybe," Jenson muttered as he leaned against the cold wall.

"They interrogate you over dinner?"

"Not really. I just got here." And for some reason, he wished they would've just interrogated him somewhere rather than gossip about his personal life behind his back like he was just another careless, attention-seeking celebrity. Like he was just another outsider that didn't deserve their understanding or consideration.

"How was dinner?

"Not a disaster."

"That's new."

"Magnus told you to drop by? Who picked you up?"

"Evie wanted to see me, and Doc called me last night. She called Zeke this morning." Darren shrugged coolly, his tone mostly flat. Then he finally slid his phone into his pocket. "He was in the area, so..."

"Why didn't you text me?"

"Figured you were busy. Post-production and all."

Too busy to drive for an hour to pick him up at the rehab facility after months of not seeing each other? "I was home all week."

"Oh?" Darren snickered. "You sick or somethin'?"

"No. What'd the doctors say?"

"Same old." He glanced at the glass door.

In the next room, Dr. Rasmussen's second-floor living room, Evonne clung onto her tie-wearing husband's arm, the look on her pale face still bordering on anxious and jittery, instead of relieved. As usual Magnus looked preoccupied with a late-night phone call.

Must be about the vaccine trials again. Or news about the mutts.

"Where you been?" Jenson tried a friendlier tone and put on another grin. Something was up. But none of them seemed to want to keep him in the loop.

"Why?"

"You and Zeke dropped by a bar or somethin'?"

"Nah." Darren checked his phone again.

"You waitin' for a call?" Or a text? From someone in the rehab facility?

"Kind of."

"From?"

Darren scoffed and started texting. "No one you know," he murmured with his eyes stuck on his phone screen again.

"Yet."

Ah...

So Darren met someone new. Some girl from rehab, perhaps?

"Who's the lucky girl?" Jenson crossed his arms and stood on his toes.

The name on Darren's phone screen didn't look familiar. The fleeting look of anxious desperation in his eyes was more than suspicious, too. "Someone you've never met. Why?"

"You got a photo, or..."

"Pfft."

"What, you haven't met her? In person?"

"Couple days ago." Darren smirked and sounded proud now. Some excitement covered up the hoarseness of his voice.

"Where?"

"She works in the center."

A rehab nurse? Or doctor? "Huh."

"Yeah. It was...wild. Shit. I seriously thought it was just the drugs, man."

"What?" Jenson stared at his friend's slanted grin, ignoring the glob of worry that lodged in the back of his mouth.

"For hours I thought I was hallucinating."

"Why?"

"She just..." Darren pocketed his phone.

"Just what?" Who exactly was he talking about?

"For two days I really thought she was her twin, or something." Darren chuckled, his fingers tugging at his shorter hair. Another grin bared his teeth.

"Twin?"

"She looks a lot like Mona. I mean, for real."

Ramona?

"Long blonde hair, same height, body, smile..." Darren tilted his chin and blinked at the pitch-black sky. A heavy, awkward silence was cut short when he swore under his breath. "Yeah. Pretty much everything, man. It's just... Insane, really."

"You got pics?"

"Nah."

"Why not? Haven't had time to stalk her online yet?"

"Can't find anything about her online. Like, not a single thing, man." Darren pulled a face while his thumb itched his stubbled chin. "It's fuckin' weird."

Definitely strange. "But of course you got her number," Jenson teased.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Good for you," he said, faking a laugh.

Well, at least his friend seemed happy now, and unlike himself, more than eager to move on from a messy, difficult past.

A shitty past. A really shitty past.

Jenson stared at his friend's grin, trying his best to look pleased. At ease. Normal. Anything that would hide the weeks-old melancholia gnawing at his insides.

Some days, he couldn't even look at himself in the mirror. Part of him still couldn't wrap his head around everything that happened in the last couple of months.

Was it just the grief? Constant loneliness?

Maybe. Just him having trouble dealing with death and heartbreaks. The loss shouldn't feel any more foreign, though. Certainly not the first time he lost a parent. Nor was it the first time he lost someone dear to him.

Grief, and then losing Jessi and Charmaine practically at the same time... It humbled him somewhat. It reminded him that work shouldn't control his every decision, his every move. Nor should it matter more than everyone else he let into his life.

But, too late for regrets now.

"Forget about it. Forget about her. Let it go," his uncle would say.

Jenson feigned another smile. If letting the past go were that simple and easy, he wouldn't be moping about everything day and night. Just trying his best not to feel alone and depressingly lonely every waking day.

"Yeah. It's been, a crazy week..." Darren sighed, but his smile didn't wane. Some nervousness mixed with optimism only accentuated the excitement in his eyes. "Fuck it. I'm gonna ask her out."

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

"You been texting and calling each other?"

"Not yet."

"But she talks to you? She replies to texts?"

"Sometimes."

"How old?"

"27, I think." Darren squinted.

"Ah."

Years older than Ramona. But that could be a good thing. At this point, Darren definitely needed big changes in his life, his routine, mindset, and everything in between.

"What's her name?" Jenson took a step closer.

"Brynn."

"Short for?"

Darren smiled at him again. "Sabryna Altamira."

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"Hey."

"What?"

Jenson glanced behind. They weren't totally alone in this part of the house, but the closed door and glass windows should be giving them enough privacy.

Unlike before, Magnus and Evie looked too busy to care about anything else, just showing off how comfortable they were now with PDA. Evonne must be beyond desperate for a baby. Or two.

And lately it seemed Magnus was finally on the same page. A miracle on some level. Just two years ago, they all believed Evonne and Magnus were headed for divorce.

Especially Darren. "The old dicks downstairs talk to you about the mutts?" Nostrils flaring, he raked his fingers through his hair.

"No."

"Or you were just late to the party."

"Not like they give a shit." Jenson sighed and pinched the throbbing flesh between his tired eyes. This might sound absurd to Darren and his often controlling brother-in-law, but, at this point, Jenson couldn't really care less.

Those selfish, money-obsessed assholes could gossip all day every day.

The consequences of his feelings for Jessiah mattered more right now. Way more. "Hey. I need to find her."

Darren tilted his chin, shoulders squared, brows scrunched. Confusion flickered in his squinting eyes. Then the realization hit him. "Jess?"

"Yeah."

"She never called back?"

Jenson stared at the floor and weakly shook his head. The fact still made him feel like a worthless piece of shit, but, it was no one else's fault. "No texts, emails... Nothing."

"Oh."

"Yep." He let out a sigh. It didn't get rid of the tension hurting his upper body.

"Sorry, man."

"Help me."

"Why?" Darren mumbled something with his arms crossed, eyes half-closed. While they stood next to the balustrade, a scowl drew more curves between his thick brows. "Hold up. Why 'need'?"

It was a necessity Jenson couldn't quite discuss in detail with anyone just yet.

But, Darren seemed fine now. Not fully recovered yet, but clearly in a much better headspace. Maybe even willing to help a friend. "Shit. Did something happen? Or..." Darren stepped closer.

A fat, awkward pause dragged the corners of his mouth down when his questions went unanswered.

Jenson sighed. "I bit her."

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"You what?" Darren gawked. He didn't move an inch and glared with his pinkish lips parted slightly. "What the fuck, Joss?"

"I'm not sure where in Rosenville," Jenson muttered, his chest almost tighter than his gut. "Or if she's actually there. But, she's probably with her parents."

Darren shut his eyes and slapped his own forehead. "How in the..."

"She looked fine. I didn't really... I-I followed her to the airport after we... She didn't look sick."

"You actually bit her?" Darren scoffed, his brows creasing like his pale forehead. "Where? When?"

"I didn't see blood or anything, but..." Jenson cleared his throat as his stomach lurched. Just thinking about that night made his insides crawl. It was the inexplicable desire to keep her close. Right next to him. Right where he wanted her.

Too bad she never wanted to stay. Not for him. Or herself. Jessi wanted something else.

Not him. Not this life. Much less a serious, exclusive, committed relationship with him.

Their differing opinions and priorities should've knocked some sense into him much earlier. Should've discouraged him way before he got absolutely careless with her that night. Yet somehow, that moment he'd proven multiple times that she wanted him, too, the long list of consequences he knew by heart suddenly ceased to exist.

When she'd kissed him back, his brain just went "fuck it" and shut off. Denied every logic his hard life and upbringing had trained him to recognize before anything else.

"Shit." Darren heaved a sigh, pouting at something on the floor.

"Help me find her uncle."

"Who's her uncle?"

"Peter Kinley."

"Right. So?"

Jenson got up from his seat and put on a poker face. "He's a producer, and screenwriter. Living in San Francisco with his wife."

"Sure. But..."

"You met him?"

"No. But Jess told me about 'em." Darren squinted, another scowl wrinkling his forehead and lips. "You think the guy would just tell you where she lives?"

"Worth a shot." And it wouldn't hurt to try. Try his luck in the most discreet way possible. But discreet might not get them anywhere soon if Jessi really wanted to keep her whereabouts private. "So?"

"I'll just drive to San Francisco first thing and go look for the guy?"

"You busy?"

"Not really. I mean..." Darren flexed his arms with his backside pressed onto the balustrade, his hands splayed on the flat surface.

"I gotta go back to New York."

"Why?"

"To find Mykaela and..." Jenson gripped the edge of the concrete. Cursing out loud and hitting something might relieve some of his anxiety and restlessness. But they were in someone else's house. Someone particularly observant like Magnus. "He still wants me to convince her to see Ilya again. Or call him at least."

"Huh? I thought you found her?"

"Yeah. But..."

"What?"

"She blocked me again. And they got security escorts all the time."

Darren rolled his eyes and shook his head faintly.

"Can't get close. Mykaela wouldn't even reply to emails. She probably changed her number again."

"I told you..." he drawled, the tinge of exasperation in his voice matching his expression. "The Tomassinis don't fuck around. They're old-school mafia. Filthy rich untouchables."

Right on. But why did he talk as if he'd met that Italian clan of mobsters?

"Ever met any of them?" Jenson walked towards the other side of the room to hide a scowl.

Darren followed him and yawned. "Just one."

"Who?"

"Mykaela's fiancé. Lorenzio."

"What?"

"Yeah. Once."

As his insides wrung his gut tight, Jenson spun around so fast his neck hurt. "When?"

"She called Jess, at the after-party. We were hangin' out on the roof. Just me and Jessi."

"Then what?"

"Kel called her twice." Darren grabbed a glass of something on the coffee table, then pulled a face after taking a sip of the drink. "Video call. We chatted a bit. Enzo was in the background, making pasta."

"You fuckin' serious?"

"They got a private jet and all. Security escorts every time they're out and about. Guy was cool, though. Not cocky at all."

What the heck? Why didn't Darren tell him much sooner?

"I bet they're gonna get married this year." He scratched the back of his head.

Jenson clenched his fist and hit the back of his head against the wall.

Darren itched his jaw. "Jess said Lorenzio really wants to marry Kel."

"Fuck."

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