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Guilt. More guilt. Ryan had always harbored guilt because he got away. He loved Talon almost to the point of worship because his brother had saved him from that fate. Yet still the guilt ate at him because he had gotten away. And now this… I rose and went to him. I wrapped my arms around him, but he did not respond.
“It’s not fair,” he said.
I caressed his upper arms still covered in his cotton shirt. I could say many things right now. I could tell him none of this was his fault. I could tell him there was no reason to feel guilty. That Talon never wanted him to feel that way. I could tell him that maybe it did happen the way he remembered it. That maybe his psycho mother was lying. But I didn’t say any of that. Instead, I nuzzled into his chest.
“No, it’s not fair, Ryan.”
He sniffled, and I knew he was trying to hold back tears. I wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to hold back tears in front of me, that he could cry if he wanted to. But I knew how hard it was for me to cry in front of another person. He needed to believe in his strength right now. I wouldn’t take that away from him.
I continued to hold him, still naked, he still fully clothed. We stood together for seconds that turned into minutes.
Finally, I pulled away. “Let me get you something. A glass of water maybe?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
I walked into the bathroom and draped one of the luxury robes around me. Then I filled a glass of water and returned, handing it to Ryan. He had sat back down on the bed.
“Have you ever talked to anyone about what happened that day?” I asked.
He nodded. “I had to tell everyone when I got back. I told my mother—or the woman who I thought was my mother at the time—my father, the police. For a long time I had nightmares. Even after Talon came back. But we never talked about it. My mother and father never wanted to mention it. And then my mother…er…Daphne…”
“She was your mother, Ryan, in every way that matters. It’s okay to think of her as your mother.”
He took a long gulp of the water. “Our father never let us see her body.”
“He was probably trying to protect you.”
“I’m not sure any of us ever forgave him for that. That was another knife that had twisted in my gut when he died. Or rather, when he faked his death. I always felt guilty about not forgiving him. And now?” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I find out that woman wasn’t even my mother, and that my father is most likely not dead.”
I sat quietly beside him, not saying anything. I didn’t know what to say anyway. I just wanted him to know I was there. That he could depend on me.
He took another sip of water. “You’ll never believe this either. According to Wendy, she was the brains of the whole operation.”
This didn’t surprise me. I had already come up with that theory on my own. A wisp of gratitude swept through me. Now I didn’t have to voice it to Ryan.
“She came around a lot, even before my mother died. She was based in Denver as a journalist for the National News Network. She was smart, a good reporter, as far as any of us knew. She won awards for her work, and all this time she’s been a complete sociopath.”
“Intelligent criminals know how to cover their tracks.” I should know.
“I never thought much about her coming around. Now I know why she did.”
“To see you? To see your father?” I asked.
“Both, according to her. And here’s the most twisted thing of all. Do you want to know why she orchestrated Talon’s abduction?”
My stomach spiraled into knots. I did want to know. Needed to know. “Why?”
“Because my mother was pregnant with Marjorie. According to Wendy, my father had promised never to have sex with my mother again, and in her warped mind, he had cheated on her with his own wife.”
He took what was left in the glass of water and splashed it over his face. “Can you believe that? She had a ten-year-old boy tortured and raped because my father had sex with his wife.”
My heart dropped to my stomach. My father was just as much to blame for what happened to Talon when he was taken. After all, he actually helped do the deed. But in an obscure way, I was actually relieved that he hadn’t been the catalyst for what that poor boy had endured.
“My brother was taken, tortured, raped…” He sniffled, and another tear rolled down his cheek.
I ached to brush it away for him, but I didn’t want to draw attention to it. He wouldn’t want that.
“On the orders of the woman who is my biological mother. And those same orders were to let me go. All these years, Talon was my hero. He had saved me. Let me get away. And now?” He stood and threw the empty glass against the wall. Shards scattered over the floor. “All these years later, my own mother is the hero? My own mother is the reason I got away? And my own fucking mother is the reason my brother went through hell?” He turned to me, his eyes tortured. “How the fuck am I supposed to live with that?”
