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"No shit," I mumble, and Wes's face appears in my mind. I had never seen him look like that. Everything from betrayal to hurt to hatred flashed across his features. There was no way he would ever have listened to me.
A stabbing pain in my chest makes me press my palm to it—right above my heart—and I wince. My surroundings become blurry, and I cover my mouth with my other hand.
I lost him.
Gray jerks the car over to the side of the highway and comes to a screeching stop. "What's wrong, baby girl?"
I'm unable to respond. The cries rack through my body, and I wrap my arms around my stomach where I am carrying…our baby. My baby. Wes won't want anything to do with the grandchild of the man who almost murdered his friend.
A hand lands awkwardly on my shoulder. "Kingsley." Gray's tone is soft, the same way my dad used to talk to me when I was a little girl, and it's my undoing. I try to get away from his touch, but he holds me in place until I surrender. What will happen to me—to my baby? I shift in my seat and cling to my father, crying for everything he took from me when he left and the hope I lost when I buried my mom. I found friendship and love in Stonebriar—something I never expected to experience. Last night, it all got ripped out from under me when the reality of my life—of who I am—stepped out of the dark. The dark has overshadowed the light all my life, and just when I thought I'd escaped the shadows, it snuffed out my chance at happiness for good. Because of the dark, I am on my own once again.
"Why?" I sound hysterical as I fist his leather jacket in my hands. Pulling back, I make sure his focus is on me. "Why did you do this to me? To Mom?"
Gray turns his gaze out the windshield. "I made a lot of mistakes in my life."
His answer is void of emotion, yet the remorse as he studies me contradicts his tone.
Somewhat in control, I settle back in my seat. "Are you clean?" I scan him up and down. I noticed last night that he looked different, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was.
"Haven't touched anything since you called me."
My forehead wrinkles. "What changed?" I ask softly. This talk, the importance of this moment, is not lost on me. I have not spoken to my father since I was seven years old—not truly spoken to him.
He draws in a long breath and exhales slowly. "When I answered the phone that night, I was already on my way to you."
My heart stutters, realizing what that means. He knew I had killed E. How? I don't dare to interrupt him.
"Vic filled me in."
"VIC?" the name bursts from my lips, and I clamp my mouth shut.So much for not interrupting.
Gray nods. "He worked for me."
What the—?
He holds up a hand to stop me before I can start my interrogation. "When you started at The Pole, I paid Vic to watch over you. He'd been Ellis's guard dog for years. I made him mine." A sinister grin I've seen many times turns the corners of his mouth up. "He was the perfect choice. E had a reputation for how hebroke inhis dancers and kept them under control. There was no fucking way I'd risk him raping my daughter. He was a disgusting motherfucker. I admit I was quite impressed when Vic recalled what you'd done."
I scowl at the man in front of me, and he smirks.
"You look like Stephanie right now. She used to have the same frown."
Hearing my mother's name on his lips makes white-hot rage surge in the pit of my stomach, and my sorrow is replaced by something else. I welcome the shift and let it spread through every cell. Anything is better than the misery of losing the love of my life.
"Don't you dare speak her name! You don't deserve to—"
"I know." Those two words are like a punch to the gut. I'm getting whiplash between the man who used to be my father and loving husband to my mother and the criminal drug addict who abandoned us and did unforgivable things.
When I don't speak, he continues. "Ellis had been laundering money for businesses like your uncle's for years. E took over when his father died and added his own services into the mix. Anything from prostitution to small weapons deals. He had his hands in many ventures. He used drugs to keep his girls in line."
All I hear ismy uncle.
I was aware from an early age that Uncle Ronnie, aka R.J. Turner—my father's older brother—was not a good man. He wasn't a bad man either. He was one of the worst. Everyone feared him, which was why I never met him. Gray kept my mother and me far away.
I woke up many nights as a child, listening to my parents fight. R.J. was a few years older and supplied my father with his drugs. Gray had also worked for him since he was a kid, even through his time in the military, which, in the end, cost him just that. He was dishonorably discharged for attacking a superior officer while he was high. But when my father died, so did the mention of his brother. I didn't find out why until later, when Gray came back.
"Uncle Ronnie has been dead since—"
"Since I killed him and faked my death, yes." Gray nods. "My brother deserved what he got." He doesn't show guilt. "Unfortunately, his business didn't die with him. His second-in-command took over. I didn't stick around, as you know, but when I got word that you walked into E's place and asked for a job, I made sure to get involved again. R.J.'s original team was still there, and they didn't suspect an ulterior motive for me to want in. I failed you and your mother because all I saw was the next fix. The drugs and alcohol fucked with my judgment for as long as I remember. R.J. made sure to get me hooked before I hit puberty. When I finally realized what it had done to me—to my family—it was too late. After that, I kept using to forget. I had nowhere else to go. I didn't exist on paper, but I would check on you whenever I was in the US for a job. When Stephanie died—"
