A/N: Oh no! It's been long hasn't it? I am sorry about that! And I know I said I was going to update the last week of summer... but I didn't. BUT I have excuses. Firstly, my niece Dillan was born. Yeah and I was kinda preoccupied with that the last week of summer and couldn't write. Second thing is, school started and I was hit with piles of homework. Seriously, Advanced Algebra is NOT fun! Third thing is, I overall lost my inspiration to write. But now i'm back! Oh and I know Molly Brown lived in Colorado and I totally forgot about that. WOOPIES. So since this is FanFiction, can we just pretend she lived in New York at this time? I already made that mistake and I thought it would be harder to re write the whole last couple chapters so yeah. Well here's the next chapter! :)
Cal P.O.V
"THEY GOT AWAY?" I shouted at the idiotic moron that I had mistakenly hired. He bowed his head in fear from across the room and said, "So sorry Mr. Hockley. I almost had them too," a look of disgust crossed his features as he continued, "Until that woman spit in my eye."
My face twists into a menacing scowl as I recall that whore spitting in my eye. I quickly get up from my seat and grit my teeth at the memory. I let out an irritated sigh and I turn to Brandon. I snap at him, "Did she do anything else?" A look flashed over Brandon's features, like he was recalling something. He said almost too quickly, "No sir."
I shoot him a curious look and slowly walk towards him. I raise my eyebrows and drawl, "Oh. Is that so? Your face says otherwise." I see Brandon swallow and take a step back, "You don't want to know sir."
I glare at him and say dangerously low, "Tell me." Brandon sighed and started out, "She told me to tell you that -um-." I let out an annoyed sigh and yell "Come on man!"
He sighed quickly again and visibly forced out, "That she is perfectly happy being a whore with her little bastard and gutter rat." I soak in what just came out of his mouth and I feel a rage spread throughout my body. I say through my teeth, "You may go Mr. Brandon."
As soon as he walks out of the door, I feel that rage overcome my whole being and I throw the chair I was just sitting in against the door. I hear the wood crack against the mahogany door and fall to the floor. My breath is in short ragged breaths. Why her?! Why the hell did my father pick her of all the god damned woman on this earth? It was better when I thought, that woman was dead. That was until I saw the letter addressed to Molly Brown.
I knew of my Father's will and I knew I had to marry Rose. My father would not budge about, even though I knew she would be dead. One of the very last time's I saw my Father was when I came to his office one day about it. It was about four years ago...
Flashback
"Father she is DEAD. How could I possibly marry a dead woman? She is at the bottom of the Atlantic." I spat at him. He gave me a bored look from his arm chair and took a puff of his cigar. That was all he had been doing lately. That bored expression on his wrinkled aged face with a damn cigar. Sometimes I wondered if that would be me in the future. He squinted at me and said bluntly, "Are you so sure of that Caledon?"
I give him a puzzled look and exclaim, "Well of corse! The is no way she survived that night. Besides she wasn't on the survivor's list!" I let out a short irritated breath and slammed down in the chair across from him. He continued to give me that bored look and he rolled the cigar between his thumb and middle finger. "I had a visit from Mrs. Margaret Brown a few weeks ago."
My eyebrows raise at familiar name but I shrug and ask, "So?" My father examined his cigar and drawled out in nonchalant tone, "She was in the neighbor hood and just wanted to stop and say hi. And while she was visiting, she dropped something from her purse. Something," a smirk that all Hockley men had crossed his features. "Interesting."
Curiosity over came me and I raised an eyebrow. "What?" My father smacked his lips together and pulled something out of his suit pocket. He smirked again and handed me what looked like a photograph. The picture was of two girls. They were both sitting on horses next to each other and smiling. A look of disdain crossed my features as I realized they were riding like men. It looked like there was a roller coaster in the background and the ocean coming up right next to them. One of the girls was unrecognizable but look vaguely familiar with her features and looked about the age of ten. My eyes flickered to the other woman and my eyes widened in disbelief as I realized that one of the girls in the picture was Rose. My mouth opened and I stared in pure shock at the photo. I flipped the photo over and on the back in neat handwriting said,
Rose and Josie
Santa Monica, 1923
End Flashback
I never made any assumption toward the Josie in the photo. Only caring about seeing my dead fiancée in a recent photograph. But not ever would I even think that, that "Josie " in the photograph would be the offspring of Dawson. I sent out private investigators to Santa Monica, but I realized it had only been a vacation there. It took me four years, and my father dead until finally I had found her. And I don't care about her. I want that money and I have to have Rose to get that money. And I will find her.
It was an easy assumption to realize that they would be at the train station. I knew they wouldn't call the police because let's be honest, they are not stupid. I could simply bribe any cop and I could be set free. I sit on the nearest couch and bite my fist in frustration. But were would they be going? Somewhere safe. My mind flickers back to the photograph. Maybe Santa Monica? A smirk slowly appears on my face as I realize where they are going. Rose obviously keep contact with Mrs. Brown, seeing as she was sending pictures to her. They are going to Molly Brown's home.
Jack P.O.V
My hand glides against the paper as I sketch Josie, my daughter. God that still sounds weird. I see her looking at me from the corner of her eye and she tries to stop smiling. She is beautiful. I have realized how much I really have grown to love Josie over the past few days. But I always get a stick of sadness in the stomach when I realize after, how I didn't see her grow up. I didn't see her first steps. I didn't hear her first words. What were her first words? What was she like as a child? All these questions overcome my mind as I sketch her and before I know it, I am finished with the picture.
I force a smile onto my face yet I am still thinking of the painful questions running through my head. Her eyes bubble with excitement and she moves from her pose. "Are you finished?"
I laugh at her enthusiasm and show her the finished product. Her eyes widen in amazement as she stares at it. "Wow," She gives a little laugh and exclaims, "I have always been behind the pencil! I never have been drawn before!" As her blue eyes continue to flicker over the paper. My mind starts to wander as to what she was like as a child.
A/N: Sorry! That was kinda boring! But I updated! :) Thank you SO much for continuing to read when honestly I am getting insecure about my writing and don't think I'm that good! But seriously thank you for reading! Please review! I PINKY promise I will update sooner this time! I promise! :)