“You’ve already had it, Lucy,” Emmett said firmly. He didn’t raise his voice, nor did he turn to look at her. His eyes seemed to be transfixed by the papers on the desk, and he stared at them as though they might suddenly burst into flames if he focused hard enough. “Go. Now.”
Lucy set her jaw, and her fingers tightened on Cain’s arm - Damon could see dimples forming beneath each of her red-tipped fingernails. But finally, surprising no one, she relented, pushing Cain’s arm away. “There are tattoo removal services,” she informed no one in particular. “Come with me, Arcadia. We need to put the groceries away and start dinner. Dinner forfour,” she clarified, in case Damon thought he was invited.
Cady clearly didn’t want to budge, but her mother snagged her around the elbow without breaking stride and all but dragged her from the room, shutting the door behind them.
When they were gone, silence reigned again, but this time, it wasn’t simply oppressively heavy, but charged with tension. Damon could feel Cain vibrating like a tuning fork, but he resisted the urge to touch him. A demonstration of affection in front of Cain’s father would have to come from Cain himself.
The senator heaved a sigh and walked to the leather desk chair where Cain had been sitting, the desk like a tiny mahogany neutral zone separating him from Cain and Damon. Or maybe, strewn with evidence as it was, it was more like a battlefield. Shaw picked up one of the receipts from the desk. He read it, then tossed it back down dismissively.
The leather chair creaked as he sat down, eyes pinging back and forth between them, and Damon instinctively shifted his weight, blocking Cain slightly from view, like that would do anything at all to protect him from what his father might say.
After a minute that lasted a century, the senator turned his gaze out the window. “I’ve always loved this view,” he mused. “When I bought this property years ago, I had the idea this would be our family home, the place where you and Arcadia would bring the grandchildren to visit us, maybe a place where your mother and I would retire. Which was silly of me,” he said, giving Cain an off-handed smile, “since your mother would never be happy living in an out-of-the-way place like this. Born to rule society, that one.”
He sighed again, drummed his fingers on the desktop in a careless rhythm, and issued his opening salvo. “I debated whether to pretend not to know who you are,” he told Damon. “But I won’t insult anyone’s intelligence.”
Damon raised his chin, but otherwise said nothing.
“I would like to know what you’re doing with my son, though.”
Once again, Damon remained silent. Emmett Shaw could demand an explanation all day long, but Damon wouldn’t dignify it with a response. He owed the senator nothing. But behind him, he could hear a subtle change in Cain’s breathing. He had no idea what it meant.
The senator shifted his attention to Cain. “You’ve always been a good son, Cain. A little rebellious, perhaps,” he allowed with a smile, “but that’s a good thing in a man. Gotta have a spark that lets people know you’ll stand up for yourself. I’m proud of you, son.”
Jesus.
“Are you?” Cain whispered. His voice was strangled, choked with disgust and sadness and disbelief.
“I am,” the senator said heartily. It was as though he couldn’t hear any of those notes in Cain’s voice. Maybe, like Cain’s mother, he only heard what he wanted to hear.
“I will say, though, I’m a little disappointed in what I walked in on here today. Oh, not the kissing,” he waved his hand dismissively. “No, I knew it would only be a matter of time before something like this came up. I don’t bury my head in the sand about these things the way your mother does, and I knew you couldn’t just turn it on and off.” He shook his head indulgently, as though his wife amused him. “But I really thought you had better judgment than to get involved with the likes ofhim.” He nodded his head at Damon. “Don’t you see what’s happening here?”
“I think what’s happening here,” Cain said. “Is that we found all sorts of suspicious invoices in your files.”
Shaw gave Cain the same indulgent smile he’d worn when talking about his wife. “Theseinvoices? For the house renovation?”
“They weren’t for the house renovation,” Cain said.
“Oh, Cain.Prove it. In case you haven’t researched far enough yet, each of these companies is a very real, very well-known local entity. Many of them have clients in local law enforcement.”
“Of course they do.” Damon ground his teeth together. The bastard was all but admitting the companies were fake, but of course they had all kinds of local politicians and police on their payroll who’d swear up and down to their legitimacy. Hell, they probably all filed taxes. Of course they did.
Shaw shrugged and his smile widened. “I enjoy using local contractors whenever possible. Keeping the community alive.”
“You used our family,” Cain accused stepping forward. Christ, Cain looked wounded, like even though he’d been kicked a hundred times by the guy, metaphorically speaking, he’d still found a new capacity for hurt in hearing his father all but admit this new sin. “Dragged our family into this bullshit, for what? More money? Power?God.”
“No, Iprotectedyou! All of you. The only one using you here ishim.Mister Damon Fitzpatrick.” The senator gave Damon a scathing once-over, and Damon fought to remain calm, not to display how absolutely furious he was in the clench of his fists or tightness in his shoulders. “How’s yourbrother, Mr. Fitzpatrick?”
“Cort’s fine. So are my sister and her daughter.”
Shaw blinked and tilted his head back, studying Damon’s face like a chessboard while a small smile played around his lips.
“Jack said you were a miserable bastard. I thought he was exaggerating.”
Cain gasped. Damon closed his eyes and shook his head.
“And what did Jack say aboutme, Dad?”
For a second, Shaw hesitated. “He said nothing about you. Why would he?” But it was too late, the moment of hesitation had given him away.
