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What a waste of my goddamn time.
“Do you ever think about contacting them?”
I froze. No, I didn’t. I hadn’t for a long time, and I didn’t want to. I peered at this woman over my shoulder. “No. I have no reason or need to contact them. Listen to me, Dahlia. I don’t know how you’re involved with my brother and frankly, I don’t give a shit. But if you have any sense, you’ll run away now. Those men are nothing but poison, and if you let them, they’ll destroy you.”
“With all due respect, I think you’re wrong.” Her voice was soft.
My eyebrows shot up, and I barely managed to fight a snort. “Have you met the ruthless bastard that is my father? Did he con you, too?”
“No, but he’s spent enough time trying to harass me into selling my bar.”
I’m sorry, what?
Goddamn it, she had me. “All right. I’ll bite.” Sliding back into my seat, I kept a tight grip on my purse. “Tell me more.”
“My father died at the beginning of this year, and after a couple of months, yours apparently decided he wanted to buy my bar.”
“I’m sorry. On both accounts,” I said honestly, pushing my hair behind my ear.
“Thank you. For both.” She half-smiled. “He sent your brother to do the dirty work. I left for California to be with family right after the funeral, and I admit, I dropped the ball. My best friend picked it up, and it wasn’t until close to the three-month mark that Damien contacted us. He pretty much harassed Abby until she called me and forced me to come home. I’d like to say he was nicer to me, but he wasn’t, not exactly.”
Oh, boy. I was so surprised at that.
Not.
I shook my head. “Intimidation. I’m sorry. That’s the way he does things. Like he thinks fear is a greater tool than respect. I’m ever more thankful I don’t share his blood.”
“I would be, if I were you,” she admitted. “My point is, I recently found out the extent of his…I don’t want to say control, but influence over your brother.”
“Color me surprised.” This time, I didn’t hide the dryness of my tone. Of course Benedict Fox held control over Damien—the brother I knew and loved would never have treated me the way he did.
“Like I said,” I continued. “Benedict values fear over respect. I’m sure that Damien didn’t necessarily want to be so aggressive in his attempts to buy it. Out of curiosity, were they successful?”
“Like hell they were.” The vehemence in her tone had me smiling.
“Good. Now, tell me about your relationship with my brother. If you’ve gone to the trouble of seeking me out, I can only assume it’s now personal.”
“You’d be right.”
“And if you’re here, that means he finally talked to someone about our childhood.”
She paused, drew in a breath, and then nodded. “Last night. He told me everything.”
“Everything as it happened, or everything as he sees it?” Bitterness tinged my tone, but sadness trickled through me. There was always more than one version of the truth. In this case, there was mine, Damien’s, and Benedict’s. Then everyone else’s. “We have two different views on my estrangement from them. The truth is their reluctance to accept the fact I wouldn’t abort my daughter just because her father plowed his car into a tree and killed himself.”
Dahlia froze. I kept the eye contact with her. If he’d said, the only thing she needed to be shocked about was my delivery of it.
“That’s the story he told me. A little less graphically, but the same.”
Well, shit.
“Damn. There’s one for the books. So, he sent you to check up on me? You’re not as subtle as the investigator who shows up with a check every six months.”
She paused again. “Actually,” she said slowly, meeting my gaze again. “He has no idea I’m here or that I even wanted to contact you.”
O-ho! Was that so?
“Really,” I said flatly. “That’s interesting.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. Because you’re either stupid enough to fall for my brother and care enough to do this or he’s manipulated you into believing what he says.” I leaned back on my seat, tilting my head to the side. “Thing is, you don’t strike me as easily manipulated or stupid.”
She hesitated only a second before she said words I never thought I’d hear in my life.
“I love your brother. He’s not the man you’ve painted him to be. I thought he was, but he proved me wrong. He’s nothing like your father.”
I opened my mouth, but she cut me off.
“And I don’t agree with what he said to you. It was wrong and cruel. He should have supported you regardless, but I also don’t think he meant it. He misses you too much to have believed in the words he spoke to you.”
