"I will not be--"
"Goodbye, Daddy," I say. And then, with my heart pounding painfully in my chest, I take the phone from Dallas and press the button to end the call.
Sanctuary
Dallas watched--astounded, amazed, pretty damn impressed--as Jane hung up on their father.
The second she did, he pulled her to him. "Baby," he said. "Jane, baby, are you sure?"
She nodded.
"It's going to get crazy, you know that, right? The press isn't going to leave us alone. But our parents are. We're going to be cut off. Mom won't be calling you, sweetheart. You know damn well that Dad won't let her. At least not right away. Not until he cools down."
He could tell from her expression that she hadn't thought of that, but he also saw the determination in her eyes and loved her all the more for it.
"It's all good," she said. "I'm good." She drew in a deep breath, like a drowning victim coming up for air. "It's better this way. And look--I pulled back the curtain and it didn't kill me."
He chuckled. "No, it definitely didn't."
"I know it won't be easy," she said seriously. "But even the kind of hard we're going to be facing is better than living a lie. At least, I think so." She took his hand, and he saw the uncertainty color her face. "I sort of took over for both of us. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made that decision for you. I just--"
"No." His voice was harsh. Firm. "Don't you dare apologize. You were brilliant."
"Yeah?"
"Beyond brilliant," he said, then pulled her close. He wanted to hold her and never let her go. "Brilliant and ballsy."
She smiled up at him, her hand going to cup his crotch. "Is that good?"
"Very good," he said, then slanted his mouth over hers and lost himself in the feel of her for the rest of the drive to her house.
"I want more wine," she said once they arrived and were at her door. She fumbled for her keys. "And then I think we need to get naked, get in bed, and properly celebrate our emancipation."
He took the key from her and deftly inserted it, then opened the door. "I like the way you think."
As they entered, he heard the beep of her cellphone. "Voicemail," she said. "Someone must have called while we were in the dead zone coming up the canyon." She pressed the button to play the message, and he heard their mother's voice saying, "Sweetie, your father--well, he asked me to call and tell you to check your email. I--well, you'll see. There's a letter. Baby, I'm so sorry. I love you both so much, and--yes, Eli. I'm getting off right now--Goodbye, sweetheart. I have to go."
Even before the line went dead, Dallas had his phone out and was checking his mail, and Jane was only seconds behind him.
"Got it," she said. "Come on, open. Open."
He was cursing his own slow connection, too, but when the attached letter finally opened he both wished that he hadn't bothered and knew that he'd been expecting it all along.
He read it once carefully, then again more quickly. Then he looked at Jane and waited for her to finish. He watched her eyes skim the page once, then twice. Then a third time.
He saw when her hand began to shake.
And he was there to catch the phone when she dropped it.
"Dallas," she whispered. "I shouldn't have done it. I should have thought. I guess I never really believed he'd go this far."
"I did," Dallas said.
"But completely disinherited? He's really taking our houses away? Cutting us off from our trusts? He's firing you from Sykes Retail? What the hell? He's our father. How can he do that? I mean, I knew he'd threatened, but I guess I never really believed he'd go through with it. And I should never have taken the risk. What was I thinking putting you in that position?"
"You're in it, too."
She shook her head. "Not as deep. He can't touch my book or film money. But you work for him." She pressed her fingertips to her temples. "God, I'm such selfish idiot."