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“I hope that also explains why I had sex with Paul Daniels,” she murmurs.
“Who?”
“Mr. Loud Hawaiian Shirt.”
“He didn’t tell me his name,” I say numbly.
“But he told you we fucked, I’m sure.” She wrenches out of my arms and rises to pace. “He was a big prick when we met. I knew my dad was going to ask me to ‘finesse’ him. Turned out he had a little prick when it counted. But he also had hundreds of millions of dollars. That’s all the reason my father needed to unleash ‘his secret weapon.’ That’s what he called me, you know.”
Dumbfounded, I sit back. “Your father deserves to die.”
“He’ll probably spend the rest of his life in prison. That’s some consolation.”
“That’s not enough for the shit he put you through.”
“Well, I should have refused, and I’m hardly the only one he hurt. In the last couple of weeks, I learned he’s heaped misery on all my siblings. I don’t know if prison time will be justice, but at least he’ll be away from us. Hopefully, we’ll all find solace in that.”
She sounds torn and a little sad.
I don’t understand. “You’re not going to miss him?”
Her hesitation shocks me.
“I miss the man I thought I grew up with. He seemed to nurture and praise me. I was so starved for attention as a kid that I soaked him up like a sponge. Looking back, I see that he cultivated my intelligence because he always intended to put me to work. He was just waiting for me to grow up and finish school so I could be another tool in his box to expand his wealth and power.”
The way she describes him, I can’t imagine that she knew or had anything to do with his financial scheme. It sounds as if he was perfectly capable of screwing any and all of the people around him. No doubt he was happy to have a variety of pawns, including his own daughter, to shuffle in whatever way benefitted him most. The anger and disillusionment she must be feeling… It’s no wonder she’s been closed and guarded. It’s a shock she’s opening up to me at all.
And I feel like an utter shit for not being honest with her in return.
I’ve got to be. Now isn’t the time. It will sully this moment where she’s finally allowing herself to purge her hurt. She won’t remember that I’m trying to console her or that I’m in her corner. She’ll just hate me—with good reason.
Could this situation get any more fucked up?
I gather Bethany against me and hold her protectively, silently telling her that I’ll be her buffer from her dad and the users who took advantage of her for a moment’s pleasure. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. I was always close to my dad, so to wake up one day and realize he’s not who I thought… How did it not shatter you?”
“The one useful thing he taught me is how to compartmentalize. I’ve cried. I’m sure I’ll cry again.” She sniffles. “Maybe now if you don’t stop making me so mushy. But I won’t let him prevail. That’s the other valuable lesson I learned from him. The last person standing wins. This time, that’s going to be me.”
“You’re so strong. I’m proud of you. Never forget, you’re better than that son of a bitch. I have no doubt you’ll beat him. And I promise I’ll be beside you.”
“Thank you. I needed to hear that. I was so afraid that if you knew the truth, you would judge me.” Her voice drops. “That you would rebuff me.”
For the first time, she initiates affection by throwing her arms around me. My heart wrenches. Fuck the past. From now on, I’m going to take care of her. I’m going to live up to my word. And when I tell her the truth, I’m going to hope that she’ll show me understanding and empathy. Then I’ll tell her what I’ve been suspecting all day.
I’ll tell her that I’m in love with her.
Two days later, I stand across the kitchen from Maxon, who’s glaring at me. For the third morning in a row. I’d like to believe he’s just grouchy because he’s suffering from new-parent sleep withdrawal, but I’m pretty sure he’s pissed at me. After all, I disregarded all his warnings about Bethany’s fragility and took her to bed anyway.
If he knew the truth, he’d probably punch my face. And I feel so shitty about deceiving Bethany I would let him.
“You doing okay?” I venture. “Surviving fatherhood so far?”
“Yeah. You stayed over again last night, huh?”
I nod. “Beth is still sleeping, so I thought I’d bring her coffee.” It occurs to me that maybe Maxon thinks I’m freeloading off of his sister—and therefore, off of him. “Look, I can pay for the room if you’d feel more comfortable.”
