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Mr. Ambrose waves his hand like he can’t hear anymore. “I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe... I never imagined... How could...” He stands, snapping the laptop shot. He’s looking all around, and it sounds like he might hyperventilate.
I shoot a panicked look toward Hayes, who goes to his dad. “Are you all right? Dad, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
“You? You’re sorry?” When Mr. Ambrose reaches out and pulls Hayes in for a hug, I can’t help but burst into tears. Hayes cries quietly against his dad’s shoulder, while Mr. Ambrose murmurs in his ear. I can’t quite make out the words, but they sound a lot like “I love you” and “I’m sorry” and ‘We’ll fix this.”
“I should have been more present in your life,” he says, letting Hayes out of the hug but holding him at arm’s length. “I should have been there for you. I should never have made it so you’d believe for a second I wouldn’t be on your side. I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry you went through this because you didn’t think I would believe you.”
Hayes sniffles, staring at the floor. “I’m so ashamed of what happened and what I did.”
“We’ll get you help if you need it. You can talk to a therapist. I’ll even go with you if you want. Whatever you want to do.”
Hayes nods, swallowing hard.
I watch as Mr. Ambrose’s hands tighten around Hayes’s biceps. “And she’ll never see the light of day again. I promise you that, too. But you’re going to need to talk to the police and make a statement. It might get ugly. I’ll do everything I can to make sure it doesn’t, but I can’t promise.”
“I can accept that—on one condition.”
“What is it?”
Hayes looks at me over his father’s shoulder. “You have to promise to take care of Morgan and Lucy.”
“Hayes!” I gasp.
He ignores me. “Morgan backed me up all the way. She knew if you two got divorced and her mom went to jail, she could end up on the streets with Lucy. But she still wanted to do the right thing. She shouldn’t be punished for this. Neither of them should.”
Mr. Ambrose turns to me, teary and splotchy faced. “Morgan, we don’t know each other very well yet, but I would like the chance to change that. Thank you. You have nothing to worry about. You and Lucy always have a home here. It’s the least I can do after what you’ve done to help my son.”
I drop to the sofa with my head in my hands. It’s almost too much to believe. I didn’t know until right now how terrified I still was. How unsure. How much I doubted I could protect my sister. “Thank you,” is all I can manage to say.
“I will tell you, I have plans to annul the marriage.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“But we’ll work something out. You have nothing to worry about, you or Lucy.” He looks up at the ceiling. “I want her out of my house,” he growls.
“What are you going to do?” Hayes asks him.
“Call the police, of course.” He lowers his brow, his lips pulling up over his teeth. I’ve never seen him look so much like his son. “But first, I’m going to need a word with her.”
Oh, shit. I jump up from the sofa when he starts for the door.
Hayes catches up to him, holding him in place with a hand on his shoulder. “Let me go first. Let me be the one.”
His father gives him a tight nod. “Right. You should get the pleasure.”
Hayes takes the lead, his father behind him with me on his heels. I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe I don’t feel the slightest bit conflicted. She might be my mother, but this is what she deserves. She’s gotten away with it for too long already.
We reach the upstairs hallway and walk single file to the master suite. The door is closed. Hayes taps on it with his knuckles before opening it. I can’t see inside, but there’s a light on somewhere, so Mom wasn’t sleeping.
I hear her voice. “Oh, this is a nice surprise,” she purrs. “Did you come to welcome Mommy into the family? You know how dangerous it is with your father downstairs.”
I shoot an embarrassed look at Mr. Ambrose. He’s barely holding himself back.
“No. I only wanted to see you first, so I could tell you it’s over. This is all over. Say goodbye to all of this because you’ll never see it again.”
“Honey, have you forgotten already? Do I need to remind you of what will happen if you tell anybody about our relationship?” She almost sounds compassionate. How twisted can one person be?
Obviously, Mr. Ambrose has heard enough. He marches into the bedroom, flinging the door open wide. “You disgusting, filthy bitch.”
