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My heart is thundering so hard, it feels like there's not enough room for my lungs to fill. "Do you really not remember?"I ask. "Or have you just changed the narrative in your memory so completely that you don't think there's anythingtoremember?"
Daisy shakes her head, looking as annoyed as she is confused. "What did I do, Clover? I honestly don't remember."
I cross my arms over my chest. "You don't remember me coming to you, crying my eyes out, because Dad just told me we weren't building the adventure park?"
Daisy takes a step back. "We were all upset about that. Do you think it's somehow my fault—"
"Amazing," I say. "I wish I had your ability to forget reality. Maybe I need to read more books and I can forget that I came to you, begging you for help because Dad had explained to me, like he wasproud, that he'd never intended to build that adventure park. I told you he'd used me to con those nice people out of their money. I wanted you to help me stop him, to convince him to give them their money back, and what did you do?" I shake my head when she continues to stare at me blankly. "You went to talk to Dad andnothinghappened. You told me I was wrong, that Dad never intended to con anybody. Four years later, though, you sure as hell let him pay for you to go to college."
"Clover, I don't remember—"
"You were my big sister, Daisy. You were supposed to fix things, but instead, you told me I was confused. That I'd gotten it all wrong. You made me doubt my own memory of what Dad had done. For years, I wondered why you'd chosen Dad's version of events over mine, but it all made sense when you went off to college on Dad's dime. You were happy to say whatever he wanted you to say for the right price."
Daisy stares at me. "Clover, I swear I—"
I take a step back and swipe at my burning eyes. My hand comes away wet. I didn't even realize I was crying. Talking about it now hurts just as much as it did when we were kids and Daisy called me a liar.
Dani, Goldy, and Honey stare at me, speechless and disgusted. They probably don't believe me, either, probably think I'm unhinged.
"You can deny it all you want," I say. "But Dad conned those people and anything we get from him is stolen, dirty money. I'm giving every cent of it back to the people he took it from." I look down at the envelope in my hand and fight the urge to rip it to pieces. "I don't want anything from that man."
"Clover," Honey says, but I'm already leaving. I've said what I needed to and I can't bear to hear them tell me I misunderstood or I was confused.
They'll tell me Daisy didn't mean it, or she was just a kid. They might even tell me I'm a horrible person, just as bad as my father, for helping him steal.
***
I get halfway to Jaxon's place and decide, pop star or not, I don't feel entirely comfortable being alone with him in a cottage in the woods too far from civilization for anyone to hear me scream.
Just because the paparazzi hasn't gotten photo evidence of Jaxon killing and devouring an unsuspecting victim doesn't mean he's not a serial killer. I mean, really, as cute as his story is about saving his aunt's business, he's still a grown man dressing as Bigfoot.
I turn around and head back to town to track Asher down in person since he's not answering his phone or texts.
Asher's not at the front desk and I don't see him working out. There's just three older men in the gym, two lifting, and the third punching a bag. I walk to the back looking for him, and am about to try his cell again when I hear his voice from the back office.
I start to turn and go back out into the gym to wait for him, but stop when I hear my name.
"Clover's knee is in bad shape," Asher says. "But she won't back out of the race unless she can't walk and—"
I storm into the office, so angry I feel physically hot. Asher turns as soon as I step inside, his eyes wide, but Russ just leans back in his chair and folds his hands like he wishes he had a bowl of popcorn.
"I'm fine to run the race," I say. "Whatever Asher is telling you is an exaggeration."
"Clover—" Asher starts.
"So your knee is perfectly healthy?" Russ asks, one brow raised.
Lying to this man would be a terrible idea. "It's not perfectly healthy, but I'm working on it. I'm taking it easy when I can and I'll be ready for the race in two weeks."
"You were in so much pain last night," Asher says. "I just don't want to see you really hurt yourself."
I stare at this man I thought I could trust. Honestly, I want to cry and I'm so sick of crying today. I flayed myself open for my sisters and I'm not going to do it again. I'm going to beat Asher and prove to Russ that I'm the stronger competitor.
If only my eyes would stop burning. I swallow hard, my throat scratchy, and turn to Russ. "If Asher wants to back out of the race, I'll go along with it, but you should know I've got sixty-thousand dollars cash to add to my offer on the gym."
I'm looking at Asher when I say those words to Russ, because I want to see the moment he realizes I have the trump card and he's lost. Asher's expression isn't angry or defeated though, he just looks hurt and, oddly, concerned. I turn back to Russ because I don't like the way Asher's expression is making me feel.
Russ drops his hands and leans forward, his expression getting serious. "I'm not interested in more cash, Ms. Weston. I'm interested in knowing who's the best trainer to run thisgym. Pulling cash out of deep pockets proves nothing about your ability to handle the gym or train a client."
