by Ivy Fox
Aside from Lincoln, I thought my father could do no wrong.
How could he fucking do this?
How could he fucking do this to our family? To my mother?
To me?!
I’m still trying to make sense of what I just saw when suddenly the ice queen herself appears in front of us as if she somehow heard me crying for her in my head.
“Kennedy. Colt.” She greets coolly. “Have you seen your father anywhere? I can’t seem to find him.”
Kennedy’s eyes instinctively go up the stairs in reply while I stand there in a daze.
I can’t let her go up there.
My mother and I might have a difficult relationship with each other, but she is still my mother. I can’t let her see what I just saw.
I just can’t.
When she begins to pass us by, her hand on the railing to go upstairs, I grab her wrist, stopping her next step.
“Mom, don’t.”
I’m not sure if it was the fact I called her mom—something I never do—or the devastation in my eyes, but it’s enough to make her take a step back. Her blue gaze bounces off from me to Ken, and even though she looks like the same iceberg of a woman who gave birth to me, there is something behind her arctic stare—something that looks a lot like misery. It seems everyone I care for has been suffering from the same affliction lately. So much so that I’ve become an expert in identifying grief, and right now, I see it clear as day in my mother’s eyes.
“No matter,” she finally says, straightening her spine. “I’m sure he’ll find me. Eventually.”
Without another word, she turns on her heel and returns back to the party as if the awkward moment never happened. My mind is as numb to her reaction as it is with my father’s behavior.
“Do you think she knows?” I ask an uncharacteristic silent Ken at my side.
Ken entwines her fingers with mine, giving my hand a gentle squeeze, placing her head on my shoulder.
“One thing I’ve learned about Aunt Colleen is that she knows everything. Even the secrets we try to hide from ourselves.”
I hug Emma to me with one arm, brushing her thick raven hair off her face with the other. Instantly she melts into me, sighing in her sleep, confident that in my arms she is always safe. By the time we made it to my room last night, she was two sheets to the wind tired. I would have preferred to take the two hours’ drive back to Charlotte, but she was too exhausted and needed to sleep.
I fall back on my pillow, staring at the ceiling wanting to purge memories of the past from my mind. Unfortunately for me, it’s currently a minefield of troubled thought, keeping me wide awake, and all because my father decided to impart his fucked-up wisdom on me.
“Never love a woman who can’t love you back the same way. If you do decide to give your heart, be sure the one you love reminds you that you still have a soul instead of making you sacrifice it away. Trust me, son, our soul is too high a price to pay in the name of love.”
When another half-hour passes by without being able to get any shut-eye, I call defeat. After leaving a kiss on Emma’s temple, I gently pull away, careful not to wake her up. Thinking a swim will tire out my body and hopefully clear my head, I head to the pool for an early morning swim. But as I’m about to pass my father’s study, I stop in my tracks when I hear his sobs.
“I can’t do this anymore. I’m slowly dying inside, Colleen. Please, I beg you. Let me talk to them. Explain. I need this, Colleen. Please.”
I stand silently at the doorway, a small crack enabling me to see my father on his knees, his head on my mother’s lap. He looks like he’s sobered up from when I last saw him in the hedge maze, but the anguish in his tone is just as present as it was earlier. Yet, it’s not my father on his knees that baffles me. It’s the tender way how my mother combs his hair away from his face so lovingly—much like I did to Emma not a few minutes ago—that confuses me. In my twenty-two years of life, I’ve never seen them share one caress, one kiss, nothing that would tell me that there was any affection of any kind between them. With my father fucking everything that walks and my mother being complacently apathetic to his affairs, I always presumed their marriage was a sham.
But as I take in the sight before me, I know that couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Please,” he continues to beg, “please, sweetheart. I have given you everything you ever wanted. Give me this. Just this.”
She raises his head from her lap, her blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears for her husband’s suffering.
“If you do this, what will our children think of you, my love? They won’t understand. They’ll hate you for it. Can you live with the girls’ hate? Colt’s? Because I can’t.”
“Colt hates me already.” He huffs.
“We have that in common, my love. But we are also responsible for it, too. You know it would have been different if you just let me—”
He shakes his head.
“You promised me you wouldn’t.”
“I did.” She sighs. “And you promised me that you were fine with Scarlett and Lincoln being kept at arm’s length. I’ve kept all my promises, but now, here you are asking me permission to break yours.” The deep melancholy in her voice is just as puzzling as the words she’s uttering.
He rests his head back in her lap, my mother’s fingers returning to his hair to fondle adoringly.
“She’s getting married. And Price will be the one walking her down the aisle instead of me. It should be me, Coleen. I’m her father. Not him.”
“And when Lincoln also decides to marry? Will you demand to be at his side as well?”
“It’s my right. He’s my son, too.”
My heart speeds up so loudly at their combined confession that I’m afraid I’ll miss another word. Holding my breath, I lean in closer to the door, very aware that all of my body is shaking.
“You’ll be able to perform your fatherly duties with our girls.” My mother tries to comfort him. “And should Colt one day decide he wants to get married, I’m sure he will put past grudges aside and request that we share in his joy, too. From what I was able to observe tonight, it might be sooner than we both anticipated.”
“I saw that, too.” My father offers a lopsided smile to her. “She’s good for him. We always knew whoever took our boy on needed to be a strong woman, someone with grit and passion. I think the professor will help him fulfill his potential instead of squandering it.”
“I agree, although—”
“You don’t need to say it. I know. I’ll keep my ear to the ground.”
“Thank you,” she coos, bending down to kiss the top of his head. I watch as my mother caresses my father’s scruffy beard, then lifts his chin gently up with the tip of her finger. They stare into each other’s eyes, having a silent conversation that only they comprehend. “And what of Scarlett, my dear husband? Will you be content to play the role of the surrogate father figure that you’ve played so well all these years, or will you reveal the truth—a truth that will hurt more than it will heal?” He begins to shift his head away, but she brings it back to face her. “To the grave. Wasn’t that what we vowed to one another? That our secrets would live and die with us? If we make an exception to reveal just one of them, what else might follow? Do you want to risk everything we’ve been able to accomplish over the years? Is your need to tell Scarlett or Lincoln the truth about who they really are to you so great that you would risk what we’ve bled for? Sacrificed for?”
I know he’s conceded to her will the minute his shoulders square and his expression becomes one of deep resolve.
“To the grave.”
“To the grave.”
I give Emma’s address to our chauffeur and then hurriedly put her inside the limo.
“Colt, what’s wrong? Talk to me,” she pleads for the tenth time since I woke her up. Her hair is in disarray, her golden eyes still foggy from sleep, her high heels in her hands, but right now, all I can think about is getting her as far away from
my childhood home as possible.
“I will, Em. Just not right now. There are a few things I need to do first. But I promise I’ll be home as fast as I can and explain everything to you.”
“I like it that you call my little apartment home.” She blushes sweetly, melting against the leather seat cushion while gazing lovingly at me.
“It’s not the apartment, Em. We could live under a bridge, and I would still think of it as home. Wherever you are, that is home to me.”
I lean in and press my lips to hers, deepening the kiss just enough to feel her goodness wash over my troubled soul. With much regret, I end our kiss sooner than I would have wanted, closing the passenger door next and slapping the roof of the car to order our chauffeur to take my heart safely home. I watch the limo pull away, wishing I was in it rather than being burdened with what I have to do next.
But like The Society, I’ve had enough of lies.
It’s time they all see the light of day.
I get into my Bugatti and drive over to Lincoln’s. It’s barely dawn, and after last night’s festivities, I’m sure he’ll never see this early wake-up call coming, much less the bombshell I’m about to throw at him. I pound on his door, sighing out in relief when he opens it just a few seconds later. He’s in sweat pants and nothing else. He must have been working out before he heard my knock. His chest and forearms show off the tats he got as an act of rebellion when he was younger, paired with a lonesome blooming rose in homage to his mom that he got over the summer.
Fuck. This is going to kill him.
“Put some clothes on. We’re going for a walk.”
His brows pull together tightly in confusion, but he does as I order, picking up a nearby hoodie and pulling it over his head. As we walk silently step by step to the Oakley Woods, I’m reminded how these same trees have witnessed all the strife in our past. They, too, have been complacent in harboring our secrets. We keep walking until we arrive at the shed we used that fateful night to bury our most horrid one, and the irony isn’t lost on me on how this will be the place I will change Lincoln’s life forever.
“What’s wrong, brother?”
My chest tightens at his word choice.
Brother.
Even unknowingly, that’s always who he’s been to me. A brother I could look up to. A brother who defended me with every fiber of his being when everyone else just passed judgment. A brother who loved me for who I was and not what others wanted me to be.
“Colt?”
“Emma is wrong about it being our family behind The Society.”
“Oh? Yesterday you seemed positive that we were.”
“As cliché as it sounds, a lot can change overnight.”
“Colt, where is this coming from? How can you be sure?”
Here we go.
“Because when The Society sent me the first letter, they also sent me a video recording with another set of instructions. They wanted me to discover a family secret and share it with the world.”
His face remains stoic, but I see the disappointment in his eyes regardless of how hard he’s trying to conceal it from me.
“And did you find it?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“Let’s just say that our family couldn’t be involved since they don’t want what I uncovered getting out. We’re looking at the wrong people.”
“You’re deflecting, Colt. What did you find?” he questions sternly, losing patience with me.
“I found out that my father is Scarlett’s dad, too.”
“What?!” He takes a step back, the news taking him by surprise.
“Yeah. I didn’t get the specifics, but I overheard my mom and dad talking about it this morning. She’s his daughter.”
“Hmm.” He rubs his chin in thought. “Everyone knows Uncle Owen isn’t the most faithful of husbands, but this would be quite the scandal for the Richfield name if it ever got out. Definitely something the family wouldn’t want to make public. If The Society wants this publicized, then you’re right, it can’t be us. What’s their game, then?”
I clench my fists to give me the fortitude I need to continue on while Linc is already trying to decipher The Society’s Machiavellian reasoning behind their blackmail. Frankly, those assholes are the last thing on my mind. My only thoughts are of Lincoln and how I’m about to break him.
“She’s not the only kid,” I mumble, trying not to fidget in place.
“What?” he retorts absentminded, his head still in detective mode.
“I said that Scarlett isn’t the only secret kid my dad has.”
His forehead crinkles in puzzlement.
“Owen fathered someone else?”
I nod stiffly.
“Who?”
I look into his deep ocean eyes, unable to push the words out of my mouth.
“Colt, who?!” he shouts, his hands squeezing each of my shoulders, pain and anguish taking over his movements. “No, it can’t be.” He begins to shake his head profusely, taking a step back away from me.
“You always knew you weren’t Crawford’s son, brother,” I stammer, hating that he has suffered for so long when there was no reason to. “In these very woods, you told me how he confessed you were someone else’s bastard and not his. We were thirteen, remember? We broke down. We cried. But it didn’t matter because we knew we would always have each other to weather any storm. This is just another one we never saw coming.”
His body is trembling so viciously that I can hear his teeth grinding.
“Linc.” I hiccup, feeling his pain as if it were my own.
I try to inch in closer to him, but he just steps away from me.
“That’s not possible. It can’t be possible,” he mumbles under his breath.
“It is, brother. I heard my father confess to it himself. It’s true. I swear on my very life. This is real.”
“No!!!” He holds his palms to his ears, not wanting to hear anymore.
I seal my lips shut, knowing if I say anything else, it might tip him over to the edge of his sanity. Feeling powerless to stop his pain from consuming him whole is tearing me apart. Tears streak down his face as the truth takes his toll, his weak knees caving in, making him fall to the ground.
“They lied to me!” he wails, pounding the earth with his fists. “They both lied to me. They hated me so much they made me feel like I was an abnormal freak. That something must have been seriously inertly wrong with me. They let me believe that I was sick in the head. Twisted. Perverted.”
“I know.” I rush to his side, wrapping my arm over his shuddering shoulders.
“Why didn’t my mother tell me?”
“My guess she was too afraid of Crawford’s retaliation if she told you the truth.”
“Are you sure, Colt? Are you fucking sure?”
“I am.”
His head falls to his hands, letting the cruel truth sink in. I hug him as years of self-loathing begin to lift from his shoulders.
“They told me she was my sister, Colt. My fucking sister! How could they do this to me? What fucking pleasure could they have ever had in making me feel like I was a depraved monstrosity for loving her?”
I don’t say anything in return, except pray that Teddy and Crawford are somewhere in hell paying for the pain they caused.
I hope you fuckers burn!
We must stay huddled together on the cold, dirty ground for hours, not that I care. I’d spend days rooted to this very spot if he needed me to. Luckily after a while, his anger simmers, as does his tears. It will take more than one day for him to wrap his head around this, but like me, he’s come to terms with the fact that we have been lied to our whole lives by the very people that should have protected us.
“How do you want to play this, brother?” I ask him. “Are you going to confront him?” I don’t need to say my father’s name for him to know who I’m talking about.
“Yes,” he replies sternly. “I need to know everything. No more lies.”
“What about The Society? Now that we know this is what they were after all along, we got to give it to them. All I need to do is make one call, and this shit will be broadcasted on every news channel and social platform within minutes.”
“Your thirst for vengeance won’t do us any favors, Colt. Even if it is what The Society wants.”
“You of all people should understand why I don’t give a fuck. My mom and our dad brought this all on themselves.”
“Even so, let me talk to Owen first, then we can figure out what to do next.”
I nod, conceding to his request. For now, at least.
“Let’s go home,” he retorts. “I have a lot of thinking to do.”
I know he’s right, but as we break from the woods and see a hunched figure sitting on his steps waiting for us, I don’t think Linc will be thinking about what to do with my parents for a while.
Kennedy stands up to her feet, her expression confused by the dirty state we are both in.
“Leave,” he growls before walking with purpose in her direction.
I inwardly smile and head over to my car. As I sit in the driver’s seat, I give a quick glance over to my rearview mirror and watch Lincoln grabbing a stunned Kennedy by the nape of her neck and prisoning her with his lips.
About fucking time.
With Linc being taken care of, I have one more place to go to, and luckily for me, I don’t have to drive very far to my next destination. Once I get there, I’m relieved to see Easton’s truck parked outside the small cottage. She’s sure going to need him beside her for this.
After my insistent knocking, a breathless Scarlett opens the door, Easton’s arms circling her waist from behind.
“I know we’re back to being friends and all, asshole, but you kind of come at a bad time.”
“That’s going to have to wait,” I tell him, my pensive gaze taking in Scarlett in a whole different light.
“Everything okay?” she asks, reading my mood.
“You once told me you were tired of living a life filled with unspoken lies, that their only purpose was to cause pain, and you didn’t want that anymore. Do you still think that way?”
“I do,” she replies steadfastly.