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“Is he…?”
“He’ll be put to the test,” my father said. “But if he’s your son, he’s strong. I know you raised him right.”
“Will we ever get him back?”
“I wish I knew.”
“I have to find him, Dad. Daphne won’t survive this. Especially if we lose the baby too. Please.”
“I’ve told you all I know.”
“How can you be sure they won’t kill him?”
He stayed silent for a moment. Then, “Because…Wendy wants you punished. The death of a child is something no parent should have to experience, but grief does subside in time.”
I gulped. I knew where this was headed.
He continued, “They want to break him. They want to break something that’s valuable to you. Something you’ll never get over, so that every time you look at your son, or think about your son, you’ll remember what they did to him and how he’ll never be the same.”
“Damn it!” I balled my hands into fists. “Damn it, Dad! Where is he?”
“If I knew, I’d tell you.”
“You do know. Don’t keep anything from me.”
“I don’t, son. Do you think I care about what happens to me at this point? I’m a dead man anyway. I’d tell you if I knew.”
“I’ll find him. I’ll find my son.”
“Take solace in the fact that he’s not dead. That he won’t die.”
“What about the others? Luke Walker? Raine?”
“The girl is alive. The boy is not.”
“Fuck.” Tom’s nephew. This would kill Evie.
“I tried,” he said, his breath short. “I tried to find out where they took him. I tried to…” He puffed out a gasp of air.
“Easy,” I said.
“I tried. I tried.”
“I know, Dad.”
“Can you ever forgive me? For everything?”
Everything? That was a tall order—one I wasn’t sure I could fulfill.
But my father lay dying. My father, who’d left his life thirteen years previously to help me deal with mine.
And the fallout from Wendy, from the rest of the Future Lawmakers, was mine and mine alone. My father hadn’t made that mess.
I had.
I’d spent the better part of my life cleaning up after myself.
I couldn’t clean up this mess. I couldn’t undo what was being done to my son.
My precious, innocent son.
What my past sins had cost him, had cost his mother, his brothers, and his new baby sister.
How much longer would Daphne hold out?
Not long, I feared, which was why I’d made plans to relocate her to a facility in Florida, and eventually to my Caribbean island. She’d be safe there, and well looked after. I’d finally found a way to keep Wendy at bay. Once my baby girl reached adulthood—and she would reach adulthood—I’d pull a George Steel.
I’d fake my own death and go take care of my wife.
Never fake your own death. It’s not worth it.
My father had no doubt been right, as he spoke from experience. I had a deeper understanding now, though—a deeper understanding of why he’d done it.
And why I’d have to as well.
All those years ago, Jonathan Wade had said to me, “Daphne’s your responsibility now, just as Lucy is mine.”
I had no love for my father-in-law. He’d made a mess of his daughter’s life long before I got involved with her.
But instead of making her life better, I’d made it worse. So much worse.
I’d never forgive myself.
But could I give my old man what he was asking for? Could I forgive him?
No.
I could not.
But I could say the words and let him go in peace.
I was a fucking good liar.
When had lying become so easy?
A long, long time ago.
“Please, son,” he said again. “I wish I could change so much. I’d do a lot of things differently if I had the chance.”
Wouldn’t we all?
“I forgive you, Dad.”
“Thank you, Brad.” He closed his eyes. “You were a good son. The best. I’ve always been proud of you.”
He drew in a deep breath and then another.
One more—a deep gasp.
Then he was gone.
I felt nothing. Not a loss. Not a gain. No guilt at never letting him meet his grandchildren.
No guilt about anything.
No resentment, which surprised me more than a little.
Nothing.
Simply nothing.
“Rest in peace, Dad,” I said softly.
Maybe he’d find a sliver of peace in hell.
One day, I hoped I would as well.
For I was hell bound.
I knew that now.
The end to my story had already been written.
Epilogue
Brad
My daughter survived.
Against all odds, my baby girl thrived.
While her big brother was held captive, was violated in heinous ways, she grew like a beautiful rose. When we left the hospital, Daphne asked me to call her Marjorie instead of Angela.
“She’s not an angel, after all. She’s a pearl. She protected herself.”
“Of course. She’s our Marjorie.” I’d have given Daphne anything she wanted.
Two months later, Talon returned to us, a shadow of his former self.
And I found out who’d been his abusers all along.
In the back of my mind, I’d always known. I just didn’t want to think those three men—men I’d once considered friends—could be capable of such horrific acts.
