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‘No, but I can condemn her for continuing to make his life difficult. For getting him locked up, because that’s what will happen. He’s gone out there to hunt down whoever attacked her because he feels some misplaced sense of responsibility.’
I glance up at her. ‘He’d do the same for me,’ I state, knowing it to be true. ‘Would you hate me, too?’
Judy smiles, understanding. ‘Theo’s responsibility towards you isn’t misplaced, dear girl.’
I open my mouth to argue, but quickly suck back my words. It’ll be pointless. Judy is scorned, and no matter how much I or anyone else tries to convince her otherwise, she’ll never see through her haze of resentment. Theo is her child. Penny is not.
‘Come.’ She slides an arm around my shoulder and turns me towards the stairs. ‘Go lie down. I’ll see what I can find out from Andy.’
Judy leads me to Theo’s private space, my body not my own, my mind trying to process the revelations about Penny, Theo, and their father, my worry for Theo rapidly growing. She opens the door for me. Encourages me inside. And then leaves me with a soft smile. And I let her. I put up no resistance, and I soon find myself frowning at the closed door, the silence loud. She expects me to kill time in here while they try to find him? Expects me to do nothing?
I pull up Theo’s name and dial him, pacing the room while I mentally demand that he answer, but I get his voicemail again. ‘Damn it, Theo,’ I yell, marching to the door and swinging it open. I’ll find Andy myself. Get answers myself.
I make my way through Theo’s private quarters, my strides even, my legs strong, my determination unwavering. As I round the landing, something at the bottom of the stairs catches my eye and makes me pause. ‘Theo.’ I exhale his name, trying to assess his condition quickly. He looks . . . perfect. His clothes are straight, uncreased, and there are no signs of any dishevelment. I hate myself for it, but I check for blood, too. There’s nothing. No sign, hint, or scrap of evidence that he’s been teaching any lessons or breaking any limbs. Though his face is tired. Drained. He looks like he could sleep for a year.
‘Hey.’ He stuffs his hands deep into his pockets, looking up at me on the landing.
‘Where have you been?’ I ask, feeling my way around to the top of the stairs, not daring to release the rail for fear of crumpling in relief. ‘Everyone has been worried.’ I take one step down.
‘Looking for someone,’ he says straight up, his despondency telling me that he didn’t find them.
I bite my teeth together, nervous to say what I’m about to say. ‘I know who Penny is.’
He shows no surprise. He doesn’t even blink. ‘My father was all she had. Her mother wasn’t interested in her, just my father’s money and status. When Dad died, all she had left was me. It’s been a constant battle to keep her on the straight and narrow.’
‘I admire you for helping her,’ I say quietly, needing him to know that. Judy would probably have something to say about it, but I don’t care. He deserves some praise, despite my not agreeing with what he set out to do today. But he’s back, and he didn’t find who he was looking for. I can talk some sense into him. I know I can.
‘Don’t admire me, Izzy.’ Theo shakes his head and looks down at his feet. ‘There’s nothing to admire.’
My shoulders drop, despair gripping me. ‘Don’t try to stop me,’ I warn.
He smiles mildly, looking up as he takes a step towards the stairs. ‘Admiration is more than I deserve. I don’t deserve you, either.’
‘Why?’ I ask, annoyed. ‘Why don’t you deserve me? Because you were forced to endure your father’s disdain? Because you weren’t the son he wanted?’ I realize I’ve said too much when his eyes blaze.
‘Because I’ve become a man I don’t want to be,’ he grates.
‘Then. Don’t. Be. Him,’ I say slowly, my fists clenching by my sides. Isn’t it that simple?
‘It’s too late. The damage is done.’
Damage? I step back, not liking his resoluteness. ‘What damage?’
‘Me, Izzy,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘I’m damaged, and you, you gorgeous, normal woman, somehow love me.’ His voice breaks. ‘I don’t understand it.’
The sight of him looking so confused and overwhelmed rips me in two. Positively kills me. ‘You don’t need to understand it. I love you. That’s it.’
‘But this doesn’t make any sense to me.’
If there were a wall nearby, I would be throwing my fist at it. But there isn’t, so I take the stairs, closing the space between us. My face pleads with him the whole way, willing him to accept me. To accept my love. And when his arms lift slowly, I pretty much throw myself into them and cling on to him with all my might. The joining of our bodies seems to centre my off-kilter world, and for now, there is nothing wrong, no worries or troubles, just us.
