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She places her hand atop mine, pushing down as if eager for the contact.
“One day, we got into a fight. I locked myself in his bedroom, where his safe was. I was so angry, Freya. He’d lied to me. He’d threatened me. He…he did other things too, things I’d rather not speak about.”
She doesn’t have to explain, not as her hand tightens on mine. I can imagine the horror she endured…and hid from me.
Shehadto hide it, or there would be more horror.
“During the argument, I opened the safe. I knew the code from watching him. I took out all his jewels and threw them out the window. Then I stormed out. Mike let me go, probably because he didn’t know what I’d done. But when he found out, he started calling me, demanding that I return them.”
She pauses, shuddering.
“He wouldn’t believe I threw them out the window. Maybe the wind took them. His apartment was a penthouse, so I think that’s possible. Or maybe they just disappeared. Or maybe they’re still down there, and he hasn’t bothered to look.”
“He killed your dad forthat?” I ask.
She sniffs, rubbing a tear from her eye. “Apparently, I cost him millions of dollars with mylittle temper tantrum, as he describes it. He’s been demanding the money ever since. I haven’t known what to do. He showed me a photo once of him at a police party, all of them smiling, happy…and what happened yesterday makes me more certain I made the right choice.”
“By not going to the police,” I say, nodding. “Maybe. But why didn’t you tell me?”
She shakes her head slowly. “If you knew what sort of man Mike was, you wouldn’t ask me that.”
Suddenly, all the heartache and the pain make sense.
I understood it as Julie grieving, but there was always that cruel voice whispering at the back of my mind, telling me Julie should be able to get over this. Not forget her dad, not stop caring…but function, move on with her life.
But with Mike constantly threatening her – and the guilt of her dad’s death – now I understand.
“Last night, Mike called me. He said he was done waiting. Now I’dreallyknow how badly I messed up. I wish I’d explained this all last night. Or months ago. I’m sorry, Freya.”
I wrap my arms around her as she begins to sob, making choking, gasping noises of pure grief. We stay like this for a long time, and then she leans back, sighing.
“I want you to know something,” I tell her. “What happened to your dad wasn’t your fault.”
She makes atsknoise, rolling her eyes.
“It wasn’t,” I snap. “I’m not saying there aren’t things you could’ve done better. There always are, and I get that. Butyoudidn’t hire somebody to kill me.Youdidn’t…blow up a freaking house.”
“I know,” she says softly. “But I could’ve warned Dad. I could’ve warned you.”
“You could have,” I agree. “But you didn’t. I’m not going to hold a grudge. I’m just relieved you feel like we can talk about this now.”
She takes one of my hands in both of hers, holding onto it tightly, staring at me with tears glistening in her eyes.
“I’ve wanted to tell you ever since Dad…but it’s hard to explain how terrifying Mike can be. And as the weeks and months went on, I thought maybe that was it. Maybe he was done. And then the phone call came.”
So Mike hired Mr. Red, who in turn hired Felix. All as a way to get revenge on Julie, as if she hasn’t suffered enough since her dad’s passing.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” I tell Julie, though I’m not completely sure of that myself.
“Promise?” she says, smiling as she offers me her pinkie finger, a throwback from our childhood.
Her face drops when I don’t take it. As silly as it may seem, we take pinky promises seriously.
“Felix will keep us safe,” I murmur. “His friend will be here soon. With backup.”
She nods, sitting back in the chair. “Thanks for not hating me.”
“I could never hate you, Julie. Next time, though, remember you can talk to me. About anything.”
