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Sickness passes over me in a wave and leaves me weak.
“So if my husband…he paid Jack Russell to kill someone?”
“You don’t get a calling card unless Jack gives it to you,” Westin says. “So yeah, he had a deal…that looks like it didn’t pan out. Stroke of good luck for the bastard he paid to kill that he happened to die.”
I stare at him, anger flickering.
“I’m not dumb, Westin,” I say coolly. “I know Gerard killed my husband and forged the will.”
Westin’s brows shoot to his hairline. He gives an uncomfortable cough.
“Oops,” he says.
“And I saw your name was on it. I think Gerard meant for me to find out eventually, it wasn’t hidden.”
He swallows and lets out a heavy sigh. “Everything Gerard did was justified. Did he tell you about Mariana? About his parents? Your husband had that coming to him. It’s not murder, Miss Garrison, it’s fucking justice.”
“I know he was engaged,” I whisper. “And she was pregnant.”
Westin shakes head, downing his whiskey in a single gulp. I take a large sip of mine and shudder as it slides down my throat and burns in my stomach. My nerves buzz, but they’re less fragile.
“That wasn’t his baby,” Westin says.
My jaw goes slack. “What?”
He runs a hand over his face, scrubbing his eye. “Mariana was cheating on him. I showed him evidence. But he just shoved his head up his ass because he treated her like she was a saint. She stopped wanting to fuck him and he chalked that up to her being scared off by his…interests. But she was fucking Clint and the baby was his. Sovereign admitted he hadn’t slept with her in months when she told him she was pregnant. She kept going on about how she was further along than the doctor said. Bullshit.”
My stomach turns for the most selfish reason.
If Clint took Gerard’s fiancée…does that mean I’m just compensation? An eye for an eye?
My throat hitches. Tears start in my eyes and burn down my face.
“Fuck, Keira, don’t cry,” Westin mumbles.
I scrub my face with my sleeve. “Does Sovereign even love me?” I whisper.
His face softens. He reaches out and awkwardly pats my elbow.
“He’s fucked,” he says quietly.
My head spins with whiskey. If Gerard turns out to be a liar using me to get revenge, I know my heart will die in my chest. He told me once I was too young to be so hurt. And he was right.
“I hate this,” I whisper. “I just want him to love me. That’s all.”
Westin sighs and leans back. I watch him refill our glasses and my hand shakes as I lift it to my lips.
“He does love you,” he says.
“Then where the fuck is he?” I sob.
“Sovereign is a proud man,” he says. “If he doesn’t see justice through to the end, it’ll break him. He watched his mother die, his father drink himself to death. He pulled his fiancée from a ditch. The Garrisons did that to him. This isn’t about land or money or hurt feelings. It’s justice for his family, his future children.”
I’m too drunk to tell him Gerard can’t have children without a reversal. I shouldn’t have had so much whiskey, my body isn’t used to it. I cover my face with my hands and let my body sink down over the table.
It feels like Westin and I are on a seesaw, rising and falling, both washed by the tides. By the powerful force of one man who isn’t even at this table.
“This isn’t about pettiness,” Westin says quietly.
