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“Why do that? It’s not like Leopold would ever forget what his father did to him and his mother.”
“I was just making sure it never occurred to him that he might want to one day avenge his daddy. I mean, who wants to avenge a monster?”
“So it was a manipulation,” Luke said, nodding. “A long con that looked years down the road to what eventually could have become a problem for you and Eden. Gotta say, I’m impressed.”
“It was smart,” my father returned flatly. “I needed to eliminate even the possibility of that kid boomeranging back on us if he ever got it into his head that I—or my daughter—had hurt him when it came to his father’s death.” He made a sound of disgust. “But I guess you can’t fix what’s in the blood. Damned ingrate has violence in his genes. He actually tried to kill me, can you believe it? After all I did for him, too.”
“He tried to kill you because of what you taught him,” I said, keeping my hands from clenching through sheer force of will. I didn’t want him to see my rage or upset; he’d only find a way to work it against me. “When you told him that you’d killed Leonard Driscoll, you taught Leopold the lesson that abusive parents needed to be eliminated. Then you went and made the mistake of having me stalked, which is a form of abuse. Leopold was just trying to live by your example, Dad. He was trying to protect me from you.”
Again the walls seemed to bow as the atmosphere throbbed with my revelation. Then my father slowly began to shake his head. “No, I… we both know what happened that night Leonard Driscoll died, sugar. Don’t make me reveal it in front of your man.”
I never knew I could hate my father… until that moment. And it broke my heart all over again. “Since I was eight years old, I believed myself to be a murderer. Do you remember calling me that, Dad? It was just after you’d come into my life and… andsavedme.” I had to spit that word out, because it was so bitter on my tongue. “You told me that no one would understand why I had to become a murderer, and that I needed to keep it to myself, or they would throw me in jail for the rest of my life. You actually used the termmurderer, remember? I realize now you did it deliberately. Calling an eight-year-old a murderer was just about the most devastating thing you could’ve done, but then you compounded that sin by reinforcing it every chance you got—in much the same way you reinforced the idea that Leonard Driscoll was a monster in Leopold’s mind, now that I think about it.”
“I didn’t—”
“Of course you did, every time you pushed me to compete in a shooting competition.” I hadn’t put it all together until now, and the full picture of my father’s cruelty fractured something vital deep inside my soul. “I used to believe that you had no idea how much it hurt me whenever you put a gun in my hand and forced me to compete. It hurt me, because I used to imagine the police bursting in after I’d made a bull’s eye to arrest me for killing Leonard Driscoll. I mean, surely a natural shot like me must have done him in, so I was certain they’d take one look at me and figure it out. Every time I won a competition, I would smile for the cameras while believing it would be my last free day on earth. And yet, I allowed you to put me through that torture time and again to make you happy. To make youproud. You’d saved me, so I thought it was what I owed you. Even as it tore me apart with guilt and anxiety, I did it because Ilovedyou. But you never loved me.”
“Eden, darlin’, don’t be ridiculous. ‘Course I love you, sugar. I’m your father.”
“Yeah, you are,” I couldn’t keep the bitterness from my tone. “There’s no doubt that I’m your daughter, because not only do I have your blonde hair, green eyes and cleft chin, I can grift with the best of ‘em. More than that, I can see the threads of a grift, which is why I can now see the reason you pushed me to pick up target-shooting when I was a child.”
“No—”
“You’d whisper in my ear that no one but you knew my murderous secret, but it was okay because you understood why I’d done it, and you even approved. Remember telling me that? I do.”
I heard him swallow hard. “You’re twisting things.”
“You always told me that I could trust you because you were my father, and you’d never tell a soul. Except… you consistently put me on display as an ace shot. And that was almost as good as telling the whole world that I was a murderer. Wasn’t it, Marvin?”
“Eden, please—”
“I realize now that when you put me on display like that, you were trying to control me.” I heard my voice shake, and I gave up trying to keep my pain from showing. He could drown in it, for all I cared. “Making me compete was always a lowkey threat that kept my anxiety on full blast. But that was the point, wasn’t it? You made me insecure and needy—needy for your protection, for your assurances that I was safe as long as I was with you. You made me utterly dependent on you, and you did it in a way that made me fuckinggratefulfor it. Talk about a long con. It started from the moment you entered my life and killed Leonard Driscoll, then blamed it on me, an eight-year-old child.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.” A low growl emanated from Luke, and I looked up to see him regarding my father with a contempt so vicious it burned. “You sick fucking psycho, you put that on your own kid? What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”
My father made a dismissive move toward Luke with his cast-covered hand before focusing on me. “Obviously Leopold fed you some cock-and-bull story about me. I’m just surprised you’d fall for it, Eden. I never thought you to be a slack-jawed, gullible rube, but… boy howdy, I guess I seriously misjudged your intellect.”
“There was a second shot that night, Marvin,” I said while Luke made a furious sound. It was a classic Tru Steadfast distraction maneuver, trying to hit buttons when cornered, but I wasn’t born yesterday. “I heard it while I held on to that mailbox post. I always thought it was shock setting in that made me imagine the second sound of a gunshot while I stood outside—maybe it was just my brain reliving what I’d just gone through. But it was you, wasn’t it? You saw that I’d only stunned Leonard Driscoll, so you went back to finish the job—to kill the man who’d killed the love of your life. I don’t have proof of this, of course,” I added when my father began to vehemently shake his head. “And I’m not wearing a wire or anything like that. Believe me, I don’t want this horrible mess to get out any more than you do, so I’m never going to speak of it again once I step outside this room. I just wanted to clear the air between us before I move on with the rest of my life—a life that will never have a space for you in it. I won’t be returning to HEG to lift your ratings, and I won’t welcome you in any corner of my life, ever. Any man that would blame a murder that he committed—however justifiable it may have seemed at the time—on his eight-year-old child doesn’t deserve a place in my life, or my heart. As of now, you’re dead to me.” With that, I stood and was immediately tucked against Luke’s side. “Goodbye, Marvin, and goodbye to HEG. Clearly, it’s as dead as our relationship.”
“I gave you everything,” he shot back, looking like he wanted to climb over the bed’s safety bar to come after me. “You were living in a shack in the woods with a fucking dirt floor. I took you away from all that and built heaven on earth for you. Youoweme—”
“She owes you fuckingnothing.” Luke had pulled the door open for me, but when my father spoke, he pushed me through it, then held it semi-shut so I couldn’t get back into the room where he squared off with my father. “You’d better hope there’s no God to judge you in the afterlife, you piece of shit, because what you’ve done to this woman should land your worthless ass in the deepest pits of hell like the fucking filth you are.”
“Luke,” I whispered, trying to get back in through the door when strong hands clamped down on my shoulders. My head snapped around, and I found myself looking up into the scarred face of Steele, who shook his head and put a finger to his lips.
My father’s sharp intake of breath held a world of indignant outrage. “Who the hell do you think you—”
“I’ll tell you who the fuck I am, you whiny little bitch. I’m the chest-out, proud-as-hell man who sees how unbelievably amazing his woman is. The cruelty you unleashed on Eden every hour of every day, for fuckingdecades, is nothing short of torture. Yet here she is, laughing and loving and living her best goddamn life in spite of your abuse. It’s a testament to her inner strength, her intellect and her unwavering spirit that she was able to survive you.”
“Surviveme? I’m her—”
“You’renothing, and don’t interrupt a real man when he’s talking,” Luke snarled back so viciously I found myself whispering,wow. “You tortured Eden from the moment you met her,your own daughter, and now that she finally sees you for what you are and does her damnedest to break free, you’re upset that she’s not fuckinggratefulfor the hell you put her through.”
“I tell you—”
“No, I’ll tellyousomething, you unbelievable cunt. In my line of work I’ve met murderers, thieves, rapists, serial killers, and a special few who were all of those combined. But none of them—I repeat,none of them—were as foul at their core as you are. If I could figure out a way to turn you in for the murder of Leonard Driscoll without dragging Eden into it, I’d do it in a heartbeat. But don’t think you’re getting off scot-free on that score, old man. I’ll do it anyway if you make yourself a nuisance in her life. And if I see you anywhere near Eden or our kids as we build our life together, I’ll fucking shoot you and call it self-defense. I won’t be wrong. And you’ll be dead.” With that, he pulled the door open, glanced at Steele before taking my hand in his. “Thanks for keeping her out of there.”
“Consider it my last official duty as her bodyguard. As of now, I’m just a friend,” Steele said easily, following us toward the elevator. “And speaking as a friend, the beatdown Leopold gave good ol’ Marvin was nothing compared to the beatdown you just gave him, Luke. Glad I was around to hear it.”
