Page 36 of Bombshell

“You, too,” he calls as I put the BMW into drive.

Driving toward Windfall feels different this time. I can’t see it the same way, but I’m not sure what to do with all this new information. So, Angus MacLaine stuck it to his kids one final time? I’m not surprised about that. I don’t doubt his intentions there at all. He didn’t leave Windfall to his granddaughter to take care of her or because he loved her. Maybe he told himself that’s why he did it, but there wasn’t a soft bone in that man’s body for anyone, even his own daughter. If he left his estate to Ellie, he did it as one final show of disappointment in both his children. I don’t know what Malcolm did to earn his disapproval. In my experience, it never took much to get on the patriarch’s bad side.

But Angus MacLaine’s motives dissolve from my mind as I pull around to the back of the house. I shut off the engine and draw out the gun. After staring at it for a moment, I reach over and shove it in the glove box on top of the fresh-from-the-dealership manual. I’m not here to start a war. Not yet.

My feet feel heavy as I walk toward the back door. It’s as if my body isn’t sure it wants me to take this any further. If only it could be that simple. Each step closer sends my heart pounding, blood pumping through my veins so hard that it pounds in my ears. Part of me wants to turn around and leave. Part of me knows that’s what’s best for her—for both of them. But I’m tired of being rootless. I’d made a decision about Adair and the future. I don’t know what her secret means for that. I don’t know what it means for me. But even as part of me feels tugged in the opposite direction, there’s something stronger driving me forward. It doesn’t care about my heavy feet or my racing heart or how I wound up here, it only cares about one thing.

The door swings open before I reach it and Felix studies me, wiping his hands on his apron before planting them on his hips. He’s never been my biggest fan. In truth, he doesn’t really know me. Despite everything Adair and I went through all those years ago, there’s so much of her life she closed off to me. I used to think it was because she was ashamed of me. Now I know that it’s her instinct: hide, protect, don’t rock the boat. Felix knows that. It’s why he let me through that gate.

“Adair’s things are in storage. She already took everything earlier,” he informs me, “but I suspect you know that.”

“I do.” Lying won’t get me anywhere with him, and now, more than ever, I need him on my side. “I need to see her.”

“See...her?” Felix tilts his head, a confused wrinkle deepening between his eyebrows. His mouth opens, and for a split second, I wonder if I’m wrong—if he doesn’t know. But before he speaks, his jaw drops, and he stares at me. “You know?”

“I do now.” A painful ache swells in my throat, and I swallow hard. The ache only builds until it’s as powerful as the pounding in my chest.

He only stares, and it’s in that moment that I realize there’s a reason that Adair said the father was unknown on that document. No one knows—not for certain—except she and I.

I have to make him understand.

“I just need to see her.” I take another step toward the door but he blocks it.

“I’m not certain that’s a good idea,” Felix says evenly. “Her parents…”

He trails away as I double over, shoulders beginning to shake. There’s too much. Too much blood pounding in my body. Too strong a force dragging me forward. My heart is beating too fast, as though it’s struggling to keep beating with the gaping hole at its core. “You don’t understand.” I force my eyes up, and for the first time in years, I don’t hide my tears. “I have to see her. I didn’t know.”

“You…” Felix hesitates before moving aside to let me into the kitchen. “I’m afraid things are quite complicated.”

It takes every ounce of strength I possess to straighten up and cross the threshold.

“What did Adair tell you?” he asks.

I shake my head. I don’t know how to explain the truth—that she didn’t tell me anything. That I’m the unknown in the box on a faded decree of legal guardianship.

“I just…” It’s hard to speak. Until this moment the worst moment of my life was on a snowy night in New York, watching a kind woman lead my sister out of the room. I’d failed Sutton so many times, and I’d tricked myself into believing I’d made up for those mistakes—that I’d become a man.

But now I see I’ve been a boy playing the part, talking a big game, and missing the point. Any boy can get a girl pregnant.

But a man doesn’t abandon his child. A man doesn’t walk away from the woman he loves. A man stays. A man protects. And it takes a man to be a father.

“I didn’t know.” I repeat it like the words can absolve me of my sin. “If I had…”

I expect Felix to laugh at me. To mock me. To lecture me. I deserve it. I deserve much, much worse. Instead, he crosses to me and does the last thing I expect. He hugs me.

The last levee breaks and it floods out of me: the pain, the anger, the hatred. I’ve been holding it inside for years, letting it power me, but, more importantly, letting it hide the ugliness that can’t be directed outward. The weakness. The inadequacy. The shame. I thought I could make myself a man by locking away the homeless boy, the scholarship kid, the dishonored soldier. But the only chance I ever had at becoming a man—a real man—has been right here all along.

And that’s when I finally understand why I had to come—why it couldn’t wait.

“I just need to know she’s okay.” I step back and square my shoulders.

Felix considers this. “And that’s all you came here for?”

“Yes,” I say, “for now.”

“Is that a threat?” he asks, his face unreadable.

“No. It’s a promise. There are things I don’t know.” I swallow, wondering how painful it will be to face the truth and knowing I have no choice. Not anymore. “I just need to know my daughter is safe.”