Atop the exclusive hills of the Bel Air estate, cold wind blew through the large windows of Cassian’s study.
He was slouched in his armchair, with no other person to keep him company, a vintage photograph of a young woman clutched in his hands.
It was his mother, and she was young in the picture, younger than he is now.
She had the same dark hair she had given him, and a soft smile was on her lips; her eyes carried a warmth he had deeply missed.
She was standing on a beach in the picture, with the ocean sprawled behind her.
He stares deep at her face, his eyes bloodshot red from being sleep-deprived and staring into space for hours on end.
His jaw was clenched tight as he traced the picture with his finger.
Tonight was her death anniversary, marking twenty years since she died.
There was a half-finished bottle of scotch on the desk besides an empty glass, which he had just drained.
As Jaxson pushed open the door, he revealed himself by the doorway while Cassian poured himself another drink.
His eyes scanned the room, the full glass of scotch in Cassian’s hand, the almost finished bottle, and the photograph, and it made his face soften with sadness.
“Cassian,” Jaxson called out, stepping inside the room.
“Go away, Jax,” Cassian said, lifting the glass to his lips.
Jaxson doesn’t go away; instead, he catches the glass of scotch before Cassian could take a sip of it and pulls it out of his hold, together with the bottle, carrying it to the wet bar across the room.
“What are you doing?” Cassian said, narrowing his eyes.
“You’ve had enough,” Jaxson said, pouring the glass of scotch down the sink.
“You don’t get to tell me—” Cassian started.
“Yes, I do,” Jaxson cut him off.
“I am not your secretary tonight, I’m your best friend, and your best friend is telling you that you’ve had enough.”
Cassian just stared at him for a long moment before his hard expression dropped.
He snorted a laugh before he leant back in his chair.
Jaxson pulls out the chair next to him and drops down as well.
Neither of them spoke for a long moment, the silence in the room stretching into a comforting blanket, leaving only the sound of the ticking clock and the city lights that could be seen flickering through the glass window. This story is hosted at novelping(.)com.
“I miss her,” Cassian whispered.
“I know,” Jaxson said.
“So much.” Cassian closed his eyes shut.
“Do you think she would be disappointed in me if she were alive?” His voice was hollow, and his eyes were still squeezed shut, like he was imagining what it would be like.
Jaxson doesn’t have the words to answer, so he just reached out and squeezed Cassian’s shoulder, a silent reassurance.
“One of the assistants watching over her reported something,” Jaxson said after a long moment.
Cassian’s eyes darted open at the mention of her name.
He sat up, looking at Jaxson, beckoning him to continue.
Jaxson sat up as well, his expression going serious.
“Savannah paid her a visit at her office today. Though we couldn’t get what she said, we know it can’t be good.” Cassian’s expression shifted, his jaw tightened, and he set down the photograph on the desk carefully before he turned back to face Jaxson.
“I knew this would happen. This is exactly why I didn’t want her working here. She’s going to fall into the hands of people who are up to no good. Savannah already had her sights set on the Bennetts for what happened to Zach. She’s playing with fire.”
Jaxson studied his face before he spoke: If you could tell her the same thing without being an asshole, I’m sure she would listen.”
“She wouldn’t,” Cassian said.
“She’s the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. Instead, she’ll take it as a challenge and try to get more involved with Savannah. It just can’t understand her.”
He paused for a moment, running a hand through his dark locks.
“You have to warn her, Cassian; we both know what Savannah is capable of.”
Cassian clenched and unclenched his hands.
“She better not hurt her,” he sneered under his breath.
Jaxson raised a brow, a small smirk resting on his face.
“I thought you didn’t care.”
“Just keep a close eye on her, as well as Savannah, and report back if you find anything suspicious, that’s all.”
“Okay,” Jackson nodded.
There was a bit of silence before he said, “Anything else?”
Cassian stood up from his seat and walked to the window, staring out at the city beneath him.
“Have you booked me the flight?”
“Yep, one first-class ticket to Catalina Island, right here,” Jaxson said, pulling out an envelope from his suit jacket and placing it on the desk.
Cassian nodded without turning back.
“Thank you.”
The words echoed through the room before it fell quiet again.
Catalina Island was his mother’s favourite island; it was also where her ashes were scattered after the cremation, her favourite place in the world.
He visits her on all her death anniversaries and birthdays.
Every time he goes, he feels her.
In the wind and the ocean.
Cassian’s phone buzzed on the desk, and he turned to look at the screen.
He pinched his jaw as he glanced at the name: ‘Zoe.’
“You should take it,” Jaxson said.
“That’s not necessary,” Cassian said, watching as the phone continued to ring, vibrating through the heavy mahogany desk, then he sighed before he swept up the phone and switched it off, setting it back face down.
Jaxson doesn’t push; instead, he stands, ready to leave.
“I’ll leave you alone,” he said, walking to the door before he paused at the threshold, turning to look at his friend.
“Get some sleep, Cassian, you need it.” The door closed softly behind him, leaving Cassian alone in the silence.
He turned around and walked back to the desk, resting his elbows on the wood as he stared at his mother’s photograph.
“I’m coming, Mum.”