by Raven Scott
Reece was a half-step behind me, his car beeping lightly as he locked the doors, and I had to work to get my knees to bend. So many thoughts raced through my head, scenarios I’d never thought I would have to consider flashing behind my eyelids when I managed to blink. The cold nipped at my cheeks and fingertips, and I stuffed my hands into my pockets with a frosty, calming huff of a breath.
I knocked on the door— a stranger that recognized this place but no longer felt welcome— and stiffness slithered between the notches in my spine. For a flash of a second, I hoped my dad would be the one to open the door, but he never left the kitchen chair if he could help it. His paper was all he cared about, ignoring how ugly and fake his life was beyond those crinkled edges.
“Shit—” Murmuring under my breath, I flexed my toes in my heels before the door locks unlatched overly loud above the blood drumming in my ears. Taking a deep breath in preparation, I fixed a smile on my face as Reece pressed a palm against my lower back soothingly. My mom’s surprised face appeared behind the screen door, brow wrinkling slightly in confusion as she pushed open the barrier.
“Riley! What are you doing. . . here?” She caught herself noticeably, her eyes flickering to Reece behind me as she held the door in one hand and blocked the opening with her body. “You’ve been ignoring me for weeks— you couldn’t call first?”
“You said it yourself—” Her blue eyes flashed, narrowing on me as a sickly sweetness invaded my tone, and I stepped up to force her back. “You wanted to meet my boyfriend. Here he is.”
Again, I stepped forward, and my mom backed up into the house fully as she huffed in displeasure. My heart hardened, but I couldn’t back down, now. All my life, she’d treated me like she hated me, wanted me to fail, actively encouraged it. . . and I frowned at her. The interior of the house hadn’t changed at all, but all I could see with any clarity was her.
“Why didn’t you call first? I would’ve made dinner.” My blood boiled as my mom stuck her nose up at me and flashed Reece a charming, friendly smile. “I’m Riley’s mom, Tanya. I apologize for the state of my home. I didn’t know you were coming.”
“No worries. Your home is very. . . rustic.” Reece’s distaste dribbled from his tongue thickly, and my mom’s expression tightened even as they shook hands. “I’m Reece. When Riley explained you lived in Redding, I didn’t immediately think ‘quaint’— I’ll be honest.”
He’s really good at acting like a rich asshole. Of course, Reece probably had a few tax brackets on my parents, and I had to hide my small smile. My mom was quiet for a moment before offering us a drink, gesturing us to follow her into the kitchen.
“Charles, Riley’s here, and she brought her boyfriend.” True to form, my dad was sitting at the kitchen table with a coke and rum next to him, and he glanced up from his paper uninterestedly. Slowly folding his paper, my dad lifted himself from his chair to show off the decades of factory work that toned his arms and thinned his face. His scruff was scraggly, and he had a bit of a beer gut since the last time we’d seen each other, but he looked basically the same.
“It’s good to see you, sweetheart.” Smiling genuinely as my dad hugged me, I nodded while he rubbed my back. “I missed you. How’s New York City?”
“It’s great! I got a new job— way better job than I had. I just finished my first week today. I smashed it!” My excitement peeked in my tone, and my dad cracked a smile before his gaze trailed to Reece to narrow into fine points. “Um— this is Reece, my boyfriend. Reece, this is my dad.”
They tersely shook hands, but the tension in the kitchen rose astronomically when neither of them let go. My dad’s frown became deeper etched into his face, and Reece obviously wasn’t expecting how hard the handshake was. Glancing warily between them, I held my breath as my heart made a break between my ribs, my hands clenched tightly by my sides.
“You know about her.” His wasn’t a question, but my dad cast me a shrewd side glance before releasing Reece’s palm to sit down again. “I knew it’d catch up to me eventually.”
“That you’re a pedophile? Yeah.” My jaw nearly hit the floor when my dad just snorted and rolled his eyes, as if he’d heard that before. Reece’s confusion was palpable, crawling up my left side, and the only movement in the kitchen was my mom popping open the refrigerator.
“Don’t insult me. I cheated on my wife decades ago, but not with that poor girl. With her crazy mother.” The air became frigid at my father’s sharp retort, and my knees wobbled dangerously as hard, brown eyes met mine. “Have a seat, Riley. It’s a bit of a story, but I always knew you would find out eventually.”
32
Riley
I’d made two realizations in the last few seconds as I sat, my dad across from me and Reece across from us.
One— not all information is accurate, and I thought I could trust my dad.
Two— my dad didn’t know my mom was up to something fishy.
What the fuck is going on? The question hung heavy behind my eye sockets, and my dad drank his entire glass of coke and rum to hiss lightly. Wrinkles around his lips and eyes became deeper as my dad scowled lightly, and my mouth dried with expectation.
“I cheated on my wife many, many years ago.” Slamming that confession down my throat, my dad locked eyes with me as he twirled his glass slowly on the table. “It was a mistake I never made again. There’s no point in regretting it, now. I don’t know what questions you have, but I will answer them all truthfully, Riley.”
“What the fuck. . .?” What was I supposed to ask? What questions did I have? Nothing was clear, and I couldn’t think of anything else to say, to which my dad just stared at me under greying, bushy brows. Licking my lips heavily, I sat back and pinched the bridge of my nose hard, squeezing my eyes shut in an effort to stop my brain from seeping out of my face. “W— what. . . what happened. . . exactly?”
Tentatively asking that broad question, I kinda hoped my dad would be skimpy on the details. The facts were the facts— my dad was my dad, and my mom was a thirteen-year-old dead girl. But just because they were facts. . . did that make them true?
“That woman was insane— I felt bad for her kids. Her eldest son was my apprentice, so we spoke fairly often. We got together once long before I realized she was crazy and religious. . . not a good combination. I regretted it at the time, came clean— went to therapy with your mother. One day, at work, I got asked by the boy if I’d ever slept with his mother, and I said ‘yes’. He didn’t question me further, but I could sense something was wrong. After work, while waiting for her to pick him up, he told me his twelve-year-old sister was 4 months pregnant.” My dad’s expression darkened, and I covered my mouth as horror drained the blood from my face. “She’d taken the condom and used it on her daughters. He overheard the conversation, came to me immediately, and I confronted her. She started spewing about how God told her to do it. I’d never even met this poor girl, but I’d singlehandedly ruined her life. So, I told the boy to convince her to run away, and I’d get her an abortion.”
“. . . She was brainwashed by her mother, thinking you’d be the next Jesus Christ, and that what her mother did was justified. I was so disgusted. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t go to the police because they’d think I did it, and back in those days, investigations rarely found the truth. For months, I tried to convince her not to go through with it. We’d meet at a motel, and she’d try to get me to understand her views in turn. One day, she showed up deep in labor— hadn’t told anyone, including her mom. Cried and said she was scared, and that she should’ve listened to me. That she felt filled with doom that she wouldn’t live through it. She was a baby herself, and it was heartbreaking. Of course, there wasn’t anything I could do. She died.” Disgust and abhorrence roiled in my gut, churning my stomach dangerously as my dad sighed heavily. “I never told you the truth because you had enough problems without knowing where you came from. What I did to you and that girl and your mother was terrible. I knew it when I br
ought you home and begged Tanya to keep you. That woman must’ve realized that the truth would get out— her son would turn on her, or someone from school would know what happened and come forward. She shut down the investigation, and everyone moved on.”
“. . .This bitch used a turkey baster or something on her twelve-year-old. . .?” Reece spoke up into the silence, and my eyes flickered to him as his face twisted in thought. “I don’t think you’re lying, and I’m pretty good at spotting liars.”
“S— so. . .” A horrible sense of relief slumped my shoulders, and I lowered my hand to keep my heart from bursting out of my chest. Reece’s confirmation was enough for me, but I had never thought my dad capable of being that kind of monster in the first place. Watching me through shrewd, wise eyes, he showed no emotion, and I gulped down the dense lump in my throat. “So. . . you’re just a regular cheater. . . good? That’s good, right?”
“That’s good, baby. That answers one question, at least.” I mean— cheating was a horrible thing, but it was better than cheating with a child. I can’t believe I just thought that. Turning to Reece as he spoke up, I clasped my hands tightly as I struggled to breathe. “That’s not why we’re here, though. We came for a different murder.”
By the sink, my mom dropped a glass that shattered so loud and abrasive that it rattled my teeth, and I stuffed my knuckles into my mouth. The air was dead quiet, and Reece arched a brow at my father as my brain went into overdrive. This is insane. I want to leave.
“Dad. . .” My voice crackled unsightly, and I inhaled a shallow rasp through flared nostrils as a cold sweat broke out under my jacket and shirt. The world spun in slow motion when I glanced over at my dad, and he frowned as confusion knit his brows. “Mom hired a hitman to kill me.”
A huge weight lifted off my shoulders as I muttered those seven words. I had said them before, but now was different for some reason. Across the table’s corner, my dad stiffened, his eyes widening and lips parting in shock. Where should I begin? When I was here last, my dad wasn’t exactly comforting, even though he did acknowledge that I was hurting. He never said Brandon attacking me was my fault, but that I should be more careful and maybe step away from my ‘preferences’.
Which was way more than my mom fighting with me about how it was my fault, admittedly.
“After I stopped contact with Mom, she hired someone to kill me. . . she hired Reece to kill me because he got the job when my phone number overlapped with his contacts.” I didn’t have any proof, but I knew my dad would take my word for it, just like I accepted his story. Clearing my throat roughly, goosebumps washed my arms and chest as he just stared in shock. “I guess, now. . . I know why she hates me, but. . . I don’t know why she’d do that. So that’s. . . that’s why I’m here. To ask. . . although I don’t expect the truth.”
“What are you implying!” My mom’s screech hurt my ears, and I winced as my eyes flew to her whirling around to glare at me. Her slightly sagging features blossomed with the red of rage, lip curling in a nasty snarl. “I raised you when I didn’t have to! How dare you!”
“How dare I what!” Jumping out of my chair, I flung out my arm as years and years’ worth of degradation bubbled up in me like hot, black tar. My mom’s eyes widened, like she wasn’t expecting me to yell at her, and I trembled with anger of my own searing a path through my chest. “You’re such a piece of shit! How dare you take your hatred out on a baby— on such a fucked-up situation! You did everything you could make sure I ended up beyond fucked as a person and look what happened! Your son— who you love— is way worse off than me! When was the last time he had a job, huh? He still lives here, drugged up and a loser, because you love him! Well! I’ll take being hated by you than being loved any day! You’re a failure of a mom, and I’m glad I’m not your daughter! At least Dad acknowledges he’s a crappy husband, but he’s still a good dad!”
She shook as apoplexy flashed in her eyes, and I panted with the force of my screaming. The only thing between us was the table, but my mom would never dare lay a hand on me. She was too much of a coward for that, preferring to ridicule me with her words, and that had never even worked well.
“You can hate me all you want. You’re disgusting fucking trash of a human being, and I came here to give you two options. Fuck off out of my life permanently, or I’ll have someone way scarier than Reece creeping through the back door. I have a list!” Okay— I didn’t have a list, but I knew Reece could come up with one. Or Vanessa. Probably. Shaking my head viciously, I swept my hair out of my face with a heavy breath as my mom turned redder than a tomato. She was never good at confrontation on equal ground, let alone when I had leverage. Flames melted my insides, and I felt sick, but I didn’t stop glaring at my mom— didn’t show any tentativeness. “Pick one.”
I wanted to hear my mom admit defeat. I wanted to hear her back down after spending all my life trying to lord over me. The vein in her forehead bulged, her neck muscles straining as she shivered, angry to the point of tears. But I wasn’t leaving until she said the words.
33
Reece
This wasn’t going as bad as I’d expected, and I kept one eye on Riley and her mom screaming at each other across the kitchen. Actually, none of this went as I thought it would. Turns out, facts can be lies, and lies can be the truth— who knew!
I wasn’t expecting that bit about the kid’s mom, though. That was disturbing. What’s even worse is that poor girl was screwed in the head enough to think that was okay. To be fair to the old man, he probably did all he could. Twenty-five years ago, things were very different, and he seemed like a gentle guy— very earnest and strait-laced.
Which was probably why he looked so troubled as Riley and her mom hurled verbal sewage at each other over our heads.
“So. . .” Tapping my hands on the table, I nodded at the empty glass by Charles insistently. “Got another one of those?”
“You’re in luck. . . I have a whole bottle.” He pushed himself up, but neither Riley nor her mom noticed him or his hollow, strained words. Riley might not have picked it up, but I could practically smell how awful he felt. Despite all the years, he never let it go, and he was right not to. This was his fault, after all, even though that kind of crazy doesn’t discriminate.
“You’re one to talk about being an entitled bitch! The only reason you agreed to take me in was so you could hate someone other than yourself!” Riley’s words became clearer in my scope of comprehension, and I glanced over as she panted furiously. All her mother could do was sling insults, but Riley was really keeping up with valid comebacks. “If I’m entitled to anything, it’s an apology, damnit! But you’re too pathetic to admit anything is ever your fault. You can misplace your keys and it’s somehow someone else’s fault, and you won’t apologize then, either!”
“Excuse me! You’re one to call me pathetic when all you’re good for is letting men abuse you and then turning around on them and ruining their lives!” Oof. That one physically crammed in my ears, and Riley gasped in offense. “You’re worse than that bitch that brought you into the worl—”
The smack of a hand on a face echoed through the kitchen, and I flopped my head back to watch Charles stand over his wife. She clutched her cheek, her eyes wide as she leaned heavily on the counter. This just gets more and more outlandish. . .
“That’s enough.” His quiet, firm declaration revealed nothing, and Tanya glared at her husband as spittle flew from her mouth from her ragged breaths. “Riley may need to be more cautious, but don’t you compare her to that woman.”
“Y— you. . . you hit me. . .” Riley plopped down in her chair heavily to sink deep, and I cupped my chin thoughtfully at Tanya’s disbelieving whisper. “You hit me. . .”
“I’ll do it again if you bring up that woman to attack Riley. You have no right.” I was just a spectator at this point, but I’d rather be watching than involved in this cat fight. Across the table, Riley’s shivering started to die down in the silence. She looked tire
d, spent after yelling at her mom the way she’d wanted to for so long, and my heart ached for her. “Is what she said true? Did you hire someone to kill her after she blocked your calls?”
“No! Of course not!” Tanya’s voice heightened to a frightening pitch, a telltale sign she was lying. The scrape of a glass bottle against wood followed her squeal, and Charles sat down heavily in his chair to slowly unscrew the cap. “Why would I do something like that after all that I put up with! We’ve been married for 30 years, Charles! You know me better than that!”
“I’m sure if you call around, you’ll realize you’re missing thirteen thousand dollars. If she was smart, she would’ve opened a credit line for it, but if she was smart, she wouldn’t have used your home computer to make the transfer.” I spoke up for the first time in a while, and Riley gazed at me through watery, red-rimmed eyes. Tanya’s glare bored holes into the back of my head, but I ignored her to sit up a little. “I can show you the account numbers to see if you recognize them.”
“. . . There’s no need for that. I believe you.” Pouring himself a drink, Charles locked eyes on me with a slight shake of his head. Sliding the glass towards me, he turned his gaze to Riley to purse his lips and thicken the wrinkles around his mouth. “You have never done anything wrong. Even being born isn’t your fault. I believe you, Riley, because you have no reason to lie, and she has every reason to.”
“I’m still sorry, Dad.” Riley’s hoarse grumble was crystal clear as she propped her forearms on the table to hold her forehead. “I wish you told me. To be honest, I knew somewhere that my being born wasn’t the thing to focus on. . . it was that M— Tanya— hired my boyfriend to kill me.”