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I picked up the tablet to call them. They needed to get home. I missed both of their faces.
The internet browser refreshed before I opened the call function. In a red block of breaking news, Patrick’s name splashed across the screen.
I stabbed the headline and scanned the article, going straight back to the top to read it again. Facts. Statements. Cover ups.
I splayed my hand over my stomach.
I’d fallen in love with a man who had a side I knew nothing about.
“Wicked. We’re home.”
Two smiling faces appeared in the doorway.
“Home.”
Patrick rushed toward me with Blake on his hip. “How are you—” He stopped short. “What’s wrong?”
“Did you do it?” I whispered.
“Do what?”
I swallowed hard and held up the tablet. It couldn’t be true. I was sick to even ask. But I had to. “Rape that little girl.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
Patrick
Boom.
I stumbled backward. Looked from the tablet to Marlow’s ashen face. This couldn’t be happening. Not when I’d tried so hard to keep it buried.
“Did you?”
I stared at her, and the reality of what she was asking crashed down.
“What do you think?” The acid in my tone burned even me.
“Answer me.”
“You’ve got all the facts.” I flicked my chin in disgust toward the tablet.
She flinched. “There’s a lot of evidence.”
I shrugged as my gut churned. “Sounds like you’ve made up your mind.”
“This is serious.” She struggled out of bed and got in my face.
I refrained from pushing the loose hair from her eyes. Pretended her wearing nothing but my T-shirt didn’t get me every damn time.
Because she was just like everyone else when I believed she was different.
“How couldyou do this to us? After all we’ve given you, Patrick.”
“Dad, you can’t believe I’d do—”
“There is evidence that puts you there. Proof. What do you have to say?”
“That I’m innocent. That I would never, ever hurt anyone like what was done to—”
