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I can hardly breathe. “What? There’s no evidence. None. You know that I’m not addicted to anything. Is this a story you’ve cooked up with Helena?”
He exhales and moves to the window, continuing as if I haven’t spoken a word. “Naturally, as a father my heart is broken. I blame myself for failing to recognize the severity of your problem. But I cannot fight corruption if I allow it in my own family. There will be an outcry if you receive any special treatment. I’ll do my best to keep you out of prison. But you will, of course, lose your professional realtor’s license for this.”
So far I’ve managed to remain standing in the face of his outrageous statements.
That streak might be about to end.
My legs feel awful unsteady as it dawns on me that my father isn’t just throwing me out of the house.
Or simply kicking me to the curb on the professional front.
No, he’s actively trying todestroyme. He wants to ensure that I can’t make a living or recover my reputation.
The realization is physically painful in its cruelty.
Now I know what it feels like to have the solid floor you’re standing on drop right out from under you. The thunder in my head is a panicked rush of blood. Flailing, I grip the back of the sofa in order to keep my balance while Stuart Ballerini looks on with indifference.
I have to gasp for breath. “All my life I’ve done everything you’ve ever asked of me.” My voice rises to a scream. “EVERYTHING, DAD, EVERYTHING!”
I’m fracturing into a thousand pieces. Desperately, futilely, I wish for Micah. I need his strength to pick me up and hold me together right now.
Micah’s not here. But his wingman has had his fill of being the silent observer.
Gage steps into the living room and cracks a cold smile when my father nearly jumps out of his skin.
“How the hell did you get into my house?”
Gage shrugs. “Unimportant. Do you remember my father?”
I’m sure Gage enjoys the way his opponent blanches at the mention of the fearsome Christos Silvestro.
Gage twirls a silver key chain around his forefinger and takes his time.
My father’s face is flushed and sweating now. He looks at the door like he’s considering making a run for it.
Gage prowls closer, now standing between me and my father. “You’re small potatoes, little man. So if you want to keep your tiny kingdom then you’ll take my advice. I’ll give you twenty-four hours to undo whatever you’ve set in motion to ruin Tess. On second thought, twelve hours is all you get. It was all a mistake. A big fat fucking mistake. You will publicly apologize to your daughter. Then you will resist the temptation to fuck with her life again. Otherwise, you’ll find out just how many tricks I learned from Christos.”
An impressive speech.
So impressive that I’ve lost the sense that the floor is about to swallow me up.
Gage turns to me with a friendly nod. “Why don’t you go pack up whatever else you need? I’ll stay right here and keep the good mayor company.”
Taking my cue, I scamper up the stairs and waste no time hauling my entire set of luggage out of the closet. My dresser is already in the moving van but everything that still hangs in the closet needs to be stuffed into suitcases.
I move like a demon, anxious to be finished with this task. Books get thrown on top of clothes and picture frames get tossed into the suitcase pockets. There’s not much left behind when I’m finished, or at least nothing that I’d be interested in keeping.
Gage calls up from the foot of the stairs. “You need help?”
“Actually, yes.” There’s a lot to carry.
He jogs up the stairs, takes stock of my luggage, and loads up his arms. “Now let’s get the hell out of here.”
Before leaving my bedroom, I take one last look back. This room is central to my earliest memories.
My eyes pause on the thin wall cracks, just above where the bed used to be. The cracks put there by Micah.
And some of my best memories.
