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I can’t tell if he’s being friendly or sarcastic, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t need these people thinking I’m scared of them. I am, but the less they know, the better.
“He just said you found him and have been his family ever since.” Surely, they know Van is a man of few words. He shares about as well as a stray cat.
Enoch smiles, and it seems genuine.
“He told you correctly. Alistair was my first son.” Someone coughs, but it doesn’t mask the distinct “Pussy” that is said with it.
Ignoring the juvenile outburst, Enoch continues. “As you’re already aware, Alistair comes from a troubled past.” I can feel Van tense beside me. His past has always been a no-go zone—not that he shares often. In fact, he’s only spoken of his past with me once—the day he promised to take me with him when he left South Carolina.
I nod, hoping to ease the tension in the man I call my husband. “I know. His past doesn’t bother me.”
It sounds ridiculous. I’m now a serial arsonist’s wife. If Enoch wants to share some of his past, I should jump at the chance and gather any information I can. I might be able to use some of it to get out of this mess.
But Van would know I was up to something. He knows that I have never cared about his past, but it has always intrigued me. He had no money, power, or wealth, but it didn’t stop him from getting justice. He blazed his path and did what he needed to do to sleep at night.
Could he have been more legal about it? Maybe. But does that make him evil? No. He never burned or hurt anyone that didn’t hurt someone else worse. At least, not that I know of. He could have been lying, and I could have been in love. I may never know.
“I was the assistant district attorney on Alistair’s case.” Enoch’s calm timbre breaks through my irrational thoughts. “I was the one who offered him a plea deal.”
My head snaps up to Van’s, but his gaze is far away.
“I didn’t know that piece of the story,” I admit, trying not to seem eager to learn more.
Nothing good can come out of knowing who Van is. This isn’t a real marriage, and it won’t last long. Once I figure out who turned in Van, I’m leaving. Apart from what Van thinks, I did have a life, and I’m eager to get back to it.
“After Alistair served his sentence, I offered him a room with me. He was only twenty-four at the time and had the worst attitude.”
I fight off a laugh and smile. “Had? He still has the worst attitude.”
Van’s head slowly turns in my direction, and like the best wife ever, I lay my hand atop his on the table for everyone to see. “I think it’s cute, though.”
Total bullshit. Van’s personality could make a nun stabby. He’s worse than Biscuit after a bath.
“You’re right there,” Enoch agrees with a chuckle, “but we love him anyway.”
The muscles in Van’s hand tense, making me wonder if the L word is another topic that makes him uncomfortable.
“I was so proud when he obtained his law degree in prison.”
If there has ever been a time that I wanted a father in my life, it’s now. The way Enoch looks at Van and then around the table at the rest of the guys with such pride is rare.
“I never thought he’d want to become part of the system that failed and then punished him,” Enoch adds. “But I should have known my son would not only forgive but recognize his worth and take matters into his own hands. The road to purpose is never an easy one. Obstacles hide the turns, and failure to consult a map always results in a detour. But despite getting lost and missing a turn here and there, you will always find your way.”
There are so many things in his speech that intrigue me. The first is that Van forgives. Do we know the same person here? The Van Gogh I know doesn’t forgive. He gets even.
“All of my sons are gifted and will change the world someday.”
I don’t know what comes over me. Maybe Magda spiked the food, but the words come out of my mouth before I can stop them. “How can you be so sure they’ve changed?”
I don’t need to clarify. There’s a three-strike law that was implemented for a reason. Sometimes, living on the edge and defying authority is too exciting to give up. Van Gogh was a serial arsonist. How does Enoch know that he won’t do it again? After all, he blackmailed me into being his wife by threatening to burn down my apartment. It wouldn’t be hard for him to slip back into old habits.
“Are you saying you don’t think people can change?” Enoch’s brow rises as several eyes focus on me like lasers.
“No. I believe people can change, but I wonder how you sound so sure.”
I likely already have a hit out on me for asking such a question, but at least I can die knowing his answer.
“I can be sure, Mrs. Cain, because they told me. Like you, these men aren’t perfect. They will continue to make mistakes in their lives. If they recognize their mistakes and learn from them, they will not disappoint me.”
