I’d looked him up. The man was with the most reputable law firm in town, a group who handled everything from civil to criminal cases. His win record was over ninety-five percent.
However, he was also the kind of man who made things very clear.
If Donovan arrived even smelling like he’d had a beer, the judge would laugh and toss out the plea deal.
“How is that possible?” he asked.
I took a deep breath, rubbing my face. This was much tougher than I’d thought it would be. “Because I found you a perfect rehabilitation center where you can finally get the help you need.”
As expected, he was silent. What I didn’t expect was his immediate rage.
“No. Fucking. Way. My life is my life. I’m going to do what I want.”
“Donovan,” I snapped, much louder than I usually was with him. “Do you not get it that you will go to prison if you don’t do this? Do you not understand you’ll have a permanent record? Is that what you want?”
He grumbled something I couldn’t understand. “I can do this myself.”
Control. I had to get control of my anger and emotions. I was infuriated by Christian, likely taking out my frustrations on Donovan. Although he did need to finally get it through his head that this was his last hope. “Do you remember stealing from me a few months ago?”
That caught him off guard. “I didn’t steal from you.”
“Yes, you did. Cash and a painting I purchased while in Cancun. You really don’t remember.”
His sigh was heavier than before. “I’m sorry. I don’t.”
“You need help and I can make that happen if you can trust me. Can you? I’m your sister.” I didn’t want to add salt to the wound by telling him our parents had washed their hands of him. That wasn’t what anyone needed to hear.
Why my thoughts drifted to Christian and the reality that even in his wealthy and powerful world, someone could still be controlled by their father was beyond me, but it did answer some questions regarding the man’s arrogance and need for control.
Some.
“I don’t know. Everything is such a blur. I wasn’t going to sell the drugs. I needed them. Don’t you get it? Me. When I’m high, it’s the only time I don’t feel the pain.”
His injuries had mostly healed and if his doctors were correct, he shouldn’t be experiencing any physical pain other than some basic discomfort. Still, I wasn’t going to argue with him.
“I tell you what,” I said as I chewed on my thumbnail. At this rate, my finger would start bleeding. “I’m going to come over in a little while and we can talk about everything including your future. I’ll show you pictures of the facility. You’ll be surprised how beautiful the location is and it’s not far from the beach. Would that work?”
When he hesitated, I clenched my fist.
Don’t say no. Don’t you dare say no.
“I guess. I just don’t like being told what to do.”
“No one does, Donovan. No one. Just stay put and I’ll come over.” I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Alright.”
“Everything is going to be okay. I promise.”
A promise I wasn’t certain I could keep.
After saying goodbye, I held the phone to my head. I had a terrible feeling he was going to continue fighting me on this. What would I do if that happened? I just didn’t know. I tossed the phone on the kitchen table, planting my hands on the surface.
My life had turned into a shit show.
As I hung my head, my thoughts drifted all over the place. I’d never felt so out of control in my life. I was well organized. I’d been told more than once I ran a tight ship. To feel as if my entire life was unraveling was the most unnerving aspect of what I was being forced to go through.
A fake marriage.
