“You couldn’t have done anything to stop it. I’m only beginning to realize how damaged they all are because of the stuff they’ve had to do at Parkhurst.”
“I don’t even know the half of it, and I’m disturbed,” she says before seeming to collect herself. “I’ve missed seeing you at the house, but I’m not sorry your engagement to my son has ended. You deserve better.”
“We didn’t love one another, and I don’t see how any marriage can work without love.”
“You’re right,” she murmurs. “Love is the bedrock of any marriage. Without it, it’s a daily struggle.” She looks off into space. “I haven’t believed in love in a long time.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I say nothing, watching her under a sad veil as she stares out the window. After a couple minutes, she shakes off her melancholy, fixing me with a feeble smile. “We don’t want to get sidetracked. I can’t stay out too late, or he’ll send someone to look for me. What else did you want to know?”
“How did my father come to be in Rydeville? Because I know he’s not from here.”
“Your father’s adopted family moved into the area when we were fifteen.”
“My father is adopted?”
“You didn’t know?”
“He rarely talks to us, unless he wants something from us, and he never talks about his past. All I know is, his parents died in a plane crash when he was twenty-two.”
“Your father was born to a junkie mother and her pimp. His mother overdosed when he was six weeks old and his father didn’t want him, so he ended up a ward of the state,” she explains. “He was in an orphanage for the first three years of his life when the Hearst family adopted him. They lived over on the West Coast someplace before Mr. Hearst’s business interests brought him to Rydeville. They were from new money, and it was unusual for the elite to mix with new money, but your father is very charming, and he wormed his way into our circle at school.”
I listen attentively, not wanting to miss anything.
“It was obvious he had set his sights on your mother, but Olivia was hopelessly in love with Atticus.”
I guess there’s no accounting for taste.
“If that’s the case, how did my father charm her?”
“He didn’t.” Her eyes cloud over. “He manipulated the situation after his many attempts to woo her right out from under his best friend’s nose failed. Your mother told Atticus what Michael was up to, but Atticus was an arrogant son of a bitch, and he gloated over the fact his friend was trying to steal his girl. He was secure in Olivia’s love, and he thought that made them infallible. His arrogance was his downfall because it meant Michael got desperate.”
“Why did he want Mom so badly?”
“Well, not only was she beautiful, smart, and kind, but she was the only girl from a founding family. Every guy at school wanted her, but she’d fallen for Atticus when she was thirteen, and her heart was always his.” She pours more whiskey into her mug. “Anyway, Mr. Hearst Senior lost his business and his wealth, and it became a more urgent concern for Michael, so he planned things so Olivia would have no choice but to marry him.”
“What did the bastard do?”
“It was senior year, and Christian, Atticus, and Charles were away on a football trip. Michael wasn’t a good football player, and he never made the team, much to his disgust.”
I can imagine that being a sore point for my father, because he likes to believe he’s the best at everything and he hates losing to anyone, especially the other elite. He thinks he’s so above everyone, and it’s fascinating to learn he was at the bottom of the rung until his marriage elevated his fortune.
“We had planned a girls’ night at my house. Michael showed up, persuading us to attend a college party with him. Your mother didn’t want to go, but Emma and I were champing at the bit. We were both single, so we were keen to meet some older, college guys.”
She chugs back more whiskey. “He drugged us and photographed us having sex with different guys.” My stomach flips, and my mouth turns dry. “He didn’t pimp Olivia out. He fucked her, without a condom, all night long and had someone photograph it. Things were different back then, and Olivia wasn’t on birth control, because she was a virgin. It was a condition of the marriage agreement between her father and Atticus’s father, and even though they were crazy about one another, Atticus respected her decision to wait for their wedding night. Or so I thought, because that’s what Olivia had always told us.”
She slumps in her chair a little as my cell pings with a message from Drew, checking in with me. I tell him I’m fine and slip my cell back in my pocket, reaching out to take the flask from Sylvia’s hand. “You need to drive home, and I won’t have your death on my conscience.”
“Death would be welcome at this point.” Her tone is flat.
“Don’t say that.” I put the flask back in her purse, slanting a warning look at her.
She sighs, knotting her hands on her lap. “Michael sent the photographs to Atticus, and Atticus went ballistic. Then he found out she was pregnant with Michael’s child, and in a fit of rage, he told his father, and his father immediately called off the wedding and informed Mr. Manning. Per the stupid elite traditions, it now meant Olivia had to marry the father of her baby, and Michael got his way.”
“I don’t understand something.” My brows knit together. “Why didn’t she tell her father she was drugged and raped?”
Her eyes drop. “Michael blackmailed her into keeping silent by using her loyalty to us. He told her he’d send our parents the photos of us having group sex with different men. It would ruin our reputations, and our parents would most likely have disowned us.”
“But you were drugged and gang raped!” I protest, absolutely sickened.
“It wouldn’t have mattered.” She looks sad. “Your mother said nothing to protect us.”
“I hate him. He’s an evil, sick bastard, and he’s got to be stopped!” I hiss, digging my nails into my thighs. I want to scream from the pit of my lungs.
“He’s unstoppable. They all are.”
Her voice is thick with resignation, but I refuse to believe it, because then it means we’re doomed, and I’m not accepting that.
“Your mother was forced to marry Michael almost immediately, and it wasn’t a happy marriage.” Sylvia confirms what Drew and I have always known. “Once he had her, he stopped all pretense. He screwed around on her. He abused her—physically, verbally, and emotionally—and made her life hell. She wanted to hurt him, and she naively thought if he knew the baby wasn’t his that he’d let her go, but he beat her to within an inch of her life, causing her to lose the baby and her sanity. She almost died giving birth, and there were complications which meant she suffered through a succession of difficult pregnancies and miscarriages in the years that followed.”
She shifts on her chair, worrying her lip between her teeth, contemplating something.
“Whatever it is, I want to know.”
She palms my face. “Your mother was a broken shell for years. Every miscarriage tore another little strip off her heart. She wanted to be a Mom so badly because it was all she had left. Plus, Michael wouldn’t leave her alone until she gave him an heir. Every time she miscarried, he punished her, as if it was her fault.” She visibly shivers, and my chest tightens at the thought of how he punished her.
Anger resurfaces and my determination strengthens.
“It didn’t help that Atticus had married Emma by then and they’d had Maverick. Your mother sunk into a deep depression, and I think even Michael worried that she was past the point of no return, so he found a solution. A way to give him his heir and her the babies she so desperately longed for.”
“What are you saying?”
“Your mother conceived you and Drew through IVF and via a surrogate.”
“What?” I stare at her, shell-shocked.
Tears well in her eyes. “Your Aunt Genevieve carried you and Drew to full term.”
> “Oh, my God.” Intense pressure settles on my chest. “Why didn’t she tell me?”
“I can’t answer that, love.”
She glances at her watch. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I need to head home before he sends someone out to search for me.”
I struggle to snap out of it, remembering the other stuff I need to know. “Just a couple of other questions, please.”
She eyes her purse longingly, and my heart aches for her. How bad must it be that you need to spend every day high or drunk? I used to think she was weak, but she’s broken and destroyed because of things the elite have done to her. I wish I’d made more of an effort to speak with her when I was engaged to Trent and over at their house every second Sunday for dinner.
“You said Christian confirmed he murdered your two friends. Do you know if there’s evidence we can use to pin my mother’s death on my father?”
“I don’t think so. Your mom died in a car accident. The brakes failed. I’m sure your father or my husband paid someone to tamper with them and keep their mouth shut. They also paid off whoever inspected the scene. They bribed the authorities to omit it in official reports. They think of everything, Abby. They always tie all loose ends. This is their job. If someone crosses them, they eliminate them without a second thought.” She clicks her fingers. “They never leave a trail.”
“But they did with Emma’s murder,” I say. “Do you know where my mother stashed the evidence proving my father killed her?”
A strange look appears on her face.
I frown. “What’s that look for?”
“You mean proof that Michael got the pills found in Emma’s stomach contents?”
“Yes.” My frown deepens. “What else could I mean?”
“Your mother told me, but she wouldn’t say where she’d hidden it. She believed it was safest if I didn’t know, and she was right. After she died, Christian tried to beat it out of me, and when he realized I might be telling the truth, he put me through a polygraph.” She squeezes my hand. “Your mother never stopped protecting me.”
“And?” I encourage her to go on.
Air whooshes out of her mouth. “I’m not sure this makes much difference now, but she also told me she’d discovered that Atticus played a role in Emma’s death.”
All the blood drains from my face.
“Your mother had been having an affair with him on and off for a few years, after both of them were married. I didn’t know until Emma discovered it and broke her friendship with Olivia. It was horrible, and I was caught in the middle. After Emma died, Olivia told me her and Atticus were planning to flee to Europe with all you kids. But a week before she died, she came to see me. She’d broken things off with Atticus after he’d let it slip.”
“What happened?” I blurt.
“Your father drugged Emma and left her there to die, staging it so it looked like a suicide. When Kaiden found her, his screams brought Atticus to the scene.”
“I know that.” Kaiden admitted it to me a few months ago.
“Emma wasn’t dead, Abby. When Kaiden found her, she was still breathing. Her pulse was weak, but she was still alive.”
“Oh, my God.” My heart is racing out of control. “What did Atticus do?”
“I knew the truth, because Christian taunted me with it. I’d been in agony for months trying to decide what to do with that knowledge, so when your mother showed up that day, full of the half-truths Atticus had told her, I filled her in on what had really gone down.”
I bite on the inside of my cheek as I wait for her to tell me.
“Christian dropped by the Anderson house that day on Michael’s instruction. Michael wanted to ensure Emma was dead, so he got Christian to go over to discuss something with Atticus. The door was open, and he could hear screaming, so he slipped inside the house. Atticus doesn’t know he was there. He doesn’t know he saw, or that he told me, and you can’t breathe a word about this, Abby. You can’t tell Kaiden. If this gets out, Christian will kill me. And if he finds out you know, he’ll kill you too.”
I’m visibly conflicted, because Kai and I have agreed no more secrets, and this could be the worst one of all. But even if I walk away now, I’ll have to tell Kai his dad is involved in his mother’s murder. That truth will destroy him. Plus, she’s already said enough to place me in danger, so I might as well get all the facts.
“I won’t tell anyone. I promise,” I lie, because I can’t make a call like that on the spot. I will need time to assess it before deciding what to do.
She scrutinizes my face, and seeming happy with what she finds, she tells me. “Kaiden found his mother alive. For all intents and purposes, he saved her life. But Atticus was still in love with your mother, and he saw an opportunity. He got the kids out of the way, and he returned to Emma and put a pillow over her face, suffocating her until she stopped breathing.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“Abby.” Drew snaps his fingers in my face. “You still with us?” He peers into my eyes with concern and sympathy.
“Yeah, sorry. I just zoned out there for a bit.”
I said goodbye to Sylvia after she dropped her last bomb, and we came straight to Xavier’s warehouse, so I could update everyone at once without having to repeat myself. I blurted out the truth about Emma’s murder to Drew because I needed to tell someone. He was as shocked as I was, but he agreed we need to wait and find the right time to tell Kai.
Kai deserves to know the truth even if it’ll devastate him. But we can’t tell him yet because he’ll go after his father, and we need Atticus gunning for our father, to help keep him distracted, while we figure out a way to take him down once and for all.
Also, this knowledge is dangerous, and telling others puts everyone in danger.
“Babe.” Kai forces my gaze to his. “If there’s more, you need to tell us.”
“There’s not,” I lie, hoping he’ll forgive me.
“You’ve been in a bit of daze the whole time you’ve been speaking.” He rubs his hands up and down my arms. “You’re worrying me.”
Eh, yeah. That’s because I’m going to have to break your heart with news of how your mother really died. Plus, I’ve realized we are out of options vis-à-vis my father. Even if we find out where Mom stashed that evidence, it’s of no use now. We can’t pin this murder on my father when he wasn’t the one who ultimately killed her.
Sure, he’s an accessory and there was intent to kill, but that’s not enough to put the bastard behind bars for life.
But I can’t figure out why he didn’t he say anything back in the ballroom when Atticus threw out that allegation.
I have another light bulb moment.
Christian never told my father.
Holy fuck.
I slump back in my chair, and my brain hurts trying to figure it all out. Why can’t they just be your common garden variety villains? Why do they have to be criminal masterminds playing so many angles it makes my head spin?
“Abby,” Kai snaps, gripping my forearms. “What is going on?”
“My head is spinning from all this,” I honestly admit. “My dad stole a baby from my mom too, and I’ve just found out my aunt grew us in her womb, and she never fucking told me even when she was sharing other secrets on her deathbed. Excuse me for zoning out for a while.” My tone is cutting on purpose because I need to deflect him, and pushing his buttons usually works.
“C’mere.” He opens his arms, but I glare at him.
“Come. Here.” His eyes challenge me to continue disobeying him, and I wouldn’t want to disappoint him, now would I? I cross my arms and narrow my eyes at him.
He hauls me into his lap unceremoniously, growling as his arms clamp down around me. “I know you’re hurting, so I’ll forgive you for that.”
“I’m starting to understand how you feel about being betrayed,” Drew admits.
“You have no clue how that feels because this is the tip of the iceberg compared to how I’ve been treated.”
That shuts them all up. “I’m tired, and Charlie will wonder where I am. We need to go.”
Kai tightens his arms around me, and I know he doesn’t want to let me go. Not like this. But we don’t get a choice. Besides, I need to be away from him because guilt is doing a number on me, and I’m terrified he’ll burrow his way into my head and figure out I’m hiding stuff from him.
“Another thing,” Drew says. “They’ve called an emergency meeting at Parkhurst. We’re leaving tomorrow night.”
“What emergency?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know until I get there.”
“But it’s five days until Christmas,” I add.
“We’ll only be away for two days, and we’ll be back by then,” he assures me.
Not that I’m in any rush for it to arrive. Christmas dinner is taking place at our house and the Barrons and Montgomerys will be in attendance.
Naturally, I’m looking forward to it about as much as a hole in the head.
“Okay.”
“I want you to stay with Kai while we’re gone,” Drew says. “He’ll keep you safe.”
“Charlie will never go for that.”
“Which is why he won’t know.” Drew winks conspiratorially at me. “I’m sure you can come up with some plausible explanation that will ensure Mrs. Barron’s silence.”
I smile for the first time in a few hours. “I think I can work something out.”
“I’m remembering why we were such good friends, Manning,” Kai drawls, smirking at my brother.
“Just keep that in mind,” Drew says, jabbing his fingers in Kai’s direction. “And look after my little sis.”
I pay the driver, grabbing my purse and my weekend bag from the floor before climbing out of the backseat of the car. The door to the house swings open and Kai appears in the doorframe. His eyes never leave mine as I walk toward him, drinking him in from head to toe. He’s wearing a tight-fitting black shirt rolled up to his sleeves, showcasing those tatted, muscular arms I love so much. My eyes travel south as I quicken my pace with the sound of tires squealing behind me as the Uber driver peels it out of there. Kai’s dark jeans hug his muscular thighs in all the right places, and I’m imagining being on my knees in front of him, running my hands up and down his toned flesh as I take him between my lips.
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