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His thin chuckle interrupts my threat. “Relax. I’m not interested in that old cunt anymore. I just needed her so I could get your attention. I had to let you know I was serious.”
My hatred for him ratchets even higher to hear him admit that he had my mother injured in order to get to me. “Well, you have my attention. So what do you want from me? Money?”
“We can start there,” he says, grinning now. “We can start with ten grand, how’s that sound?”
“Ten thousand dollars?” I practically choke on the demand. “You’re out of your mind. I don’t have that kind of money.”
“Oh, come on, now. You’re smarter than that. And so am I. You can find a way to make this work. Guy like the one waiting for you out there, he’s so fuckin’ rich he won’t even notice the money’s missing.”
“You think I’d steal from him? Never. Fuck you for even suggesting I would.”
“Then I’m gonna need to have a talk with him.” Rodney’s mouth flattens with the threat. “Maybe I’ll have a talk with some reporters while I’m in town too. Bet I could make some serious bank off what I know about Dominic Baine’s girlfriend. Bet the gossip rags would eat that shit up. He ain’t gonna be too happy, though.”
How much does Rodney know? Surely not all of it. No one knows that much. My mother made certain of that.
Still, dread settles cold in my stomach as I stare into his narrowed, predatory eyes—eyes that are so like Martin Coyle’s I cannot curb the shudder that wracks me. “If you’re talking about the fact that your father repeatedly abused me and eventually raped me, save your breath. Nick already knows.”
The news catches him by surprise, but it doesn’t move him. No, that vulture’s stare refuses to let me go. “That’s all he knows, though, right? There’s something nobody knows about you.”
He’s not asking a question. I can see from the satisfied look on Rodney’s face that he’s been confident in his knowledge for a very long time.
From the beginning, if I had to guess.
He confirms it with a chilling smile.
“I saw your car parked outside the house that afternoon, Avery. Me and some buddies were coming back from an all-nighter and just by chance we drove past the old man’s place. There was that piece of shit Honda of yours sittin’ in the driveway.”
I don’t say anything. Dear God, I can hardly draw a breath as he continues to describe the day that’s branded into my memory.
“Now, maybe I wouldn’t’ve thought nothin’ of it. Prolly a good chance I would’ve plain forgot, but later on, after the news broke all over town that the sonofabitch was killed and your mom confessed, I remember thinking how odd it was that she made a point of telling everyone she was alone when she popped the old man. That you were gone all day.”
“I was at my grandparents’ house,” I murmur, repeating the story my mother made me tell following the killing. “I was sick that day and I stayed home from school. Mom sent me to Gran’s that morning, then she and Martin started fighting . . .”
Rodney chuckles even before I finish reciting the lie. “Yeah, I know that’s what she told the cops. But you and me, baby girl, we know different. Ain’t that right?”
I stare at him, realizing with cold certainty that he is a problem I cannot outrun. Not now.
“If you’re so sure you have something over me, why wait until now to speak up?”
He shrugs. “My old man got what was comin’ to him. I sure as shit didn’t shed any tears when I heard the asshole was dead. And I didn’t give a fuck why your mother did it. Nothing for me to gain by stirring shit up back then. You two bitches were poor as fuck. What did you have that I could possibly want?” His grin flattens into a leer. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you and me, baby girl, we coulda made things interesting. But the way the old man used to look at you, I figured he’d already been all over that fine little ass and I don’t take sloppy seconds.”
As he talks, bile rises up the back of my throat. To think he knew what his father intended for me and never bothered to speak out or to help me? It sickens me. Enrages me. My fingers curl into fists, my fingernails digging into my palms.
He steps closer to me. “I’d about forgotten what I saw that morning . . . until a couple months ago, I ran across a picture on the Internet. Picture of you all fancied up, hanging off the arm of some rich dude who owns half of New York by the looks of it. Hot piece of tail like you, guess it shouldn’t surprise me that you’re using it to snag a rich fuck like Dominic Baine.”
His crudeness grates, but even worse, I hate that he knows Nick’s name. I hate that I have brought this vile part of my past into my life with Nick. I have no one to blame—not even Rodney. This is all my fault, and I need to make it better. I need to make it go away.
The problem is, I can’t give Rodney what he’s demanding.
“I don’t have the kind of money you want. And I won’t take it from him—not for any reason.”
“Then you got a big problem coming down the pike real soon. I came here to collect on a debt you’ve owed me for a long time, and if I don’t get it, there’s no telling what I’ll be forced to do.”
“Rodney, you have to believe me—”
“No, baby girl. You have to believe me. I want that money. You’ve got the next seven days to make it happen.” He reaches out, snatching my purse off the floor and grabbing my phone from inside it. He punches in a number and his phone rings. Then he silences both devices, tossing mine at me. “I expect to hear from you once you’ve got the money. Don’t be stupid enough to test me, Avery.”
With a sneer, he leaves me to sag against the hard porcelain of the sink as he pivots toward the restroom door. Unlocking it as if he had every right to be inside with me, he blithely strides out.
