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“Afraid?” He laughs, pushing off the wall. “Of course not. Follow me. We can talk in my office.”
He walks through the crowd, and I do my best to keep up with his fast pace. We go straight up the staircase at the back wall to a room with a large, tinted window overlooking the dance floor and bar below.
“Shut the door behind you,” he says, circling a small desk and sitting in the leather chair behind it.
The closed door muffles the noise of the crowd. Do I still need to hold my hand at my chest? I decide not, and put the drink on the edge of the desk, sitting in the wooden chair across from him.
“It’s been a long time,” he says, his eyes not betraying any emotion. “How have you been?”
He studies me. He’s looking for answers, for the reason why I’ve appeared here out of nowhere. I wonder how much he’s even tried to keep up with us since we left with Freddie, since the old place burned to the ground.
“I’ve been better.” My voice is calm, even.
“You look well. I heard you had a baby.”
I blink rapidl
y, my heart hammering in my chest. “Who told you that?”
I was careful, using fake names and staying off the grid when Jillian was born. I didn’t want Mark tracking me down, so how did Gavin? A flash of betrayal echoes through me, closing my throat. Only one person could have told him. But has Roland been talking to Gavin behind my back? Why?
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he laughs. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Let’s cut the crap, Gavin. If you know about my daughter, I’m sure you know why I’m here.”
He leans back, crossing an ankle over his knee. “I only heard about your baby through the grapevine. I actually have no idea why you’re here. You’ll have to tell me.”
If he thinks I believe that…
“Okay.” I inhale a steadying breath. “I’m here for answers. I’m here for you to admit what you did and tell me why—”
“Admit what I did?” I’m still breathing rapidly, worked up from the start of my speech, but he leans forward in his chair. “Admit that I took you in, took care of you, gave you a home, food to eat, a chance to live out your dream as a singer?”
“You don’t know anything about my dreams.”
His eyes are cold, level. “And you know nothing about me.”
“I know a little bit. What are you doing here… in Seattle?”
“Running a club. A very successful one, at that. It’s so much easier without the constant drain of the theater and the productions and the insurance. God, the insurance.” He sits back again, as if he’s just a normal businessman talking shop.
I’m not fooled.
“But you’re still dipping into the sex trade. I thought Guy was behind it, but it was always you.”
His eyes narrow. “Guy was a madman. I had to keep him on a leash.”
“Is that why you had the sex club?”
“Is that what you call it?” He chuckles, and my stomach turns. “He had certain tastes, fetishes if you will. I did what I could to keep him appeased.”
“Fetishes,” I say the word as if it’s bitter.
“I’m sure you’re aware of them. Virgins?”
“Is that why you gave him Molly? Why you gave him me?” My voice rises on the last word, and I’m losing control of my emotions.
Gavin’s expression is closed. “I did everything in my power to keep you away from him. You made that deal yourself.”
