I stared at the ceiling in my bedroom, torn.
I wanted to stay. I could still taste Willow’s lips on mine, and I wanted more of her. All of her. I wanted to be by her side, always. I wanted to be the man for her and show the Wises that I was worthy of their love and affection.
But that meant giving up a part of myself. It meant living the lie I’d been living for years. It meant being complicit in the lie Alastair Black had created.
If I stayed, I was part of it.
Groaning, I turned onto my side. I’d seen the hunch in my mother’s shoulders earlier. I’d seen the pain in her eyes. The fight was gone from her. She’d never leave, no matter what I said.
I was on my own.
It was too hard to accept that, though. I couldn’t leave my mother behind to live with that monster. I couldn’t just turn my back on everyone I loved because of him.
White-hot anger swirled in my chest, sending pain radiating through my ribcage. My throat felt tight as I clenched my hands into fists. I lifted myself off my bed and opened my bedroom door. Craning my ears, I listened for something. I wasn’t sure what.
I needed a sign. The decision whether or not to leave was too heavy. Too important.
I needed to be certain.
So, I made my way downstairs again. The house was completely silent, save for my soft footsteps on the plush rugs. There wasn’t even a lawnmower or power tool operating outside, and I couldn’t hear any birds singing.
The whole world held its breath with me.
Turning down the hallway, I made my way toward my father’s study.
That’s when I heard the noises. Scuffling. Muffled shouts. Raised voices.
Anger. It shimmered through the house like a heatwave, hitting me right in the center of the chest. I’d lived in this home for so long that I could feel when my father was angry, even if I didn’t hear or see him. It was a sixth sense I’d developed when I was very, very young.
Instead of turning away, I pushed onward. I was older now, and I was sick of bowing down to him. What was he, other than an old man who liked power too much? Why did I have to listen to him?
As I neared the study, the sound of scuffling grew louder. Something shattered in the study, and a woman’s strangled scream pierced through the thick wood door.
My blood froze in my veins.
My mother was in trouble.
Rage was almost comforting as it swelled up inside me. It drowned out all the doubts and questions in my mind and gave me one sole purpose: to stop my father.
He needed to be stopped. Whatever he was doing to my mother, I wouldn’t stand for it. That fucking animal wasn’t going to lay another hand on her so long as I lived. I wasn’t going to see the tears in her eyes anymore. The fear coming off her whenever my father was near. The bruises, scrapes, marks that were all explained away when I knew the truth.
It was him.
Alastair Black. The fucking sperm donor who called himself my father.
Yes, rage was comforting. It was a good friend that I welcomed with open arms. Rage was the shield I would use to defend whatever would come next, when I ripped his fucking study door off its hinges.
My mother would never hurt again.
She would never cry again.
She would never have his dirty, violent hands on her again.
I didn’t tremble when I grabbed the doorknob. There was no fear inside me. No hesitation. No question about what I was going to do.
I would stop my father. Whatever the cost. Whatever the consequence.
My mother’s face was burned into my mind when I ripped the door open, and I braced myself for the pain in her eyes.
But the woman in his study wasn’t my mother.
It was a different set of eyes that were crying. A different mouth that was open in a silent wail. A different neck that my father’s hand was wrapped around.
Mrs. Wise.
Big, blue eyes that were all too familiar stared at me, shattered with terror. My father yelped when I smashed my fist into his face, but he recovered quickly.
I didn’t even have time to wind up for another blow when he reached for the letter opener on his desk. My father was getting older, but he was still strong. He tackled me to the ground and pressed it to my neck as blood beaded at its dull tip.
I gasped, pinned to the ground by his weight.
“If I ever see your ugly face again, I’ll kill you and everyone you love,” my father snarled, spittle hitting my cheeks as he spoke. “Your mother should have had you aborted like I asked her to.”
You think you don’t care about someone until they say something like that. You think you’re immune to their words and impervious to their insults, but somehow, poison-laced words still manage to sting.
The venom in Alastair’s voice—because never again would I call him my father—hurt more than the dull blade at my neck.
“Please,” a voice whimpered behind us. Mrs. Wise strangled a sob. “Please, Mr. Black. Let him go. I won’t say anything, I promise.”
Alastair’s eyes were black. The evil contained in them made my blood curdle, and a part of me thought it was the end. He would make me disappear somehow, and no one would know the truth about what happened to me.
“Mr. Black,” Mrs. Wise pleaded. “I made a mistake. I won’t tell anyone about what you do inside this house. I won’t tell anyone about your offshore accounts. I promise. I won’t say a word. Just let him go.”
“You’re fucking right you won’t,” Alastair spat. He released his hold on me and stood up. I put a hand to my neck, feeling the spot of blood where my skin had been broken. My eyes turned to Mrs. Wise, whose bottom lip trembled as she hugged herself in the corner.
Her words sank in slowly as I tried to decipher them. She knew about the abuse. She’d confronted him before I burst through the door.
But…offshore accounts?
Alastair leaned over his desk, bracing himself on his meaty fists. “You don’t know anything about me, you dumb bitch,” he spat at Mrs. Wise.
Anger swelled inside me again. He had no right to speak to her that way. But breath still burned as I tried to inhale, and I didn’t have the strength to fight back yet.
“I know you beat your wife and only child,” she fired back, unable to contain herself. “I know you caused that nasty burn on your wife’s arm this morning.” Mrs. Wise took a step to shield me from my father, and my love for her grew.
She was the only mother figure I ever had. The only one who ever truly cared about me.
But she was putting herself in danger. I stood, putting a hand on her shoulder to nudge her aside. She might have suspected what kind of man my father was, but she didn’t truly know how dangerous he could be.
My father’s eyes swept up to meet mine as I dragged myself up to stand up straight. He glanced at Mrs. Wise, pure venom emanating from every pore.
“You’ve made a very big mistake, woman,” he snarled. “I can destroy you.”
“No, I can destroy you,” she said, drawing herself up. “I’ve been managing this household for years—or have you forgotten that? I have lots of information on you, Mr. Black. Lots of time to make photocopies of documents that you thought no one would see. All it takes is one single phone call to the IRS, and you’ll be in jail.”
Alastair laughed, and it was the worst sound I’d ever heard. “You think you can do that to me? I own this town. Everyone is in my pocket and everyone stays in line. I’ve made everyone in Woodvale filthy rich. Who cares if I skimmed a little off the top? You think they’ll get rid of me? I’m the cash cow that just keeps giving.” He snorted, shaking his head. “That includes my friend the dean at Woodvale University. Had you forgotten that I’m one of the major donors at that school? That the finance building is named after me? I hear your daughter is on the list for an academic scholarship. From what I hear, she’s not going to get it. If I put in a phone call, though, her name could magically end up at the top of that list.”
&n
bsp; Mrs. Wise stiffened beside me, and my blood ran cold. He was trying to buy Mrs. Wise off, just like he did to everyone else who caused his trouble.
“She’s not going to get the scholarship?” Mrs. Wise asked, her voice small. “The counsellor said—”
“The counsellor doesn’t know shit.” Alastair’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “One phone call, and she’s in. Go against me, and you’re signing your own death certificate. You’ll never work in this town again. I’ll make sure the bank repossesses your home, and your sad little family will be destroyed. Your daughter won’t go to college, and I’ll be damned if she works anywhere in Woodvale. Your son? He’ll end up arrested or dead. He always was a troublemaker, wasn’t he?”
Mrs. Wise faltered when Alastair mentioned her family. As did I. I knew by the look on his face that he was telling the truth. He had the power to give Willow a scholarship or let her languish without one.
I gulped back bile, stepping in front of her. “Stop this,” I said. “Just, stop. There’s no need for this.”
“You know nothing, Sacha,” Alastair spat. “You little runt.”
I tried not to wince. Mrs. Wise’s breath was ragged behind me.
Alastair sneered. “You’re done, Wise. You and that pathetic man you call your husband. Get out of my sight and don’t come back, or I’ll have you arrested for trespassing, harassment, and any other bullshit charge I can think of.”
Mrs. Wise trembled behind me, but I threw her a glance and nodded. She should go. Protect her family. This wasn’t her battle to fight. I needed to stand up to the man on my own. I watched her leave, and then turned back to the man in front of me.
My sperm donor and I were alone.
I was scared. There wasn’t any shame in the feeling. I could admit it freely. The man fucking terrified me—but I stood my ground. I squared my shoulders and swallowed thickly, meeting his eye.
“You have until the end of the day,” he said slowly, unmoving. “I want you gone.”
“What were you doing with Mrs. Wise? Why was your hand on her neck?”
“Did you hear me?” he boomed, his eyes flashing. “I. Want. You. Gone.”
“I won’t leave.” I puffed out my chest. “I want to know what you were doing to Mrs. Wise. You have no right—”
“I have every right. I own this town and everyone in it. She works for me. If she leaves, she won’t get a job in Woodvale or anywhere else in this state. And neither will you. I don’t want to see your sniveling face again. You’re pathetic.”
“No.” I stood my ground, even though fear spiked my gut.
“What did you just say to me?”
“I said no.”
“Son, do you know who you’re talking to?”
“A tyrant. A monster. An abusive, violent fucking asshole.”
Alastair’s lip trembled ever so slightly, and the air between us grew thicker. Everything was silent. I thought I heard a door closing in the distance, and I hoped it was Mrs. Wise putting as much distance between her and us as she could. I was ready to take this hit for her. I’d do it a thousand times over.
Alastair stared me down, unblinking. Finally, he took a deep breath and feigned indifference, waving a heavy hand.
“You have two choices, Sacha.” His eyes betrayed the anger inside him. “You can stay and watch me destroy everyone you care about—including that precious little Willow you’ve been too chickenshit to man up and fuck—”
“Don’t talk about—”
He silenced me with a look. I hated that he still had that much power over me, and that I was still scared of him.
With a deep breath, he continued. “If you’re not out of this city by the end of the day, Willow Wise will never see that scholarship money. It’s not even hers to begin with. I can change that, though. It’s only one phone call away.”
“I don’t believe you.”
My father chuckled, moving to his computer. He tapped on the screen, bringing up an email from the dean of Woodvale University. He motioned for me to read it, and I saw a list of names for the academic scholarship for approval by the board of directors, on which my father sat.
Willow’s name wasn’t on it.
“Need any more proof?” He arched an eyebrow, and I saw the depths of his rottenness. “You can watch me tear that lovely family apart, bit by bit, and laugh while I do it. Or, you can leave, and your precious little girlfriend gets to go to college. Your choice.”
Silence hung between us.
I didn’t want to entertain his offer. I didn’t want to do what he wanted me to do.
But if he promised that Willow would get the scholarship… If it meant the Wises would be safer if I left, wasn’t it worth it?
Willow didn’t deserve to be dragged into this life. She deserved that scholarship money. She deserved a higher education and a chance to make something of herself. Mr. and Mrs. Wise deserved a better life than one where their employer threatened them. They had been parents to me, too, and I couldn’t see them torn apart.
In the end, the decision was easy. The Wises were too important, and my father was too powerful. I had no choice.
I had to leave.
26
Sacha
As Willow and I start walking, the words won’t come. How do I explain to her what happened that day?
I remember leaving my father’s study, angrier and more powerless than I’d ever been before. I’d gone out to my car—which he bought for me a few months prior, a thought that made me even angrier—to find Mrs. Wise waiting for me.
She had a large box of files, and she’d handed it over to me.
“I heard everything,” she’d said, tears filling her eyes. “You don’t have to leave, Sacha. It’s not fair.”
“I’ll be gone in an hour,” I’d replied, shaking my head. “If Willow doesn’t get that scholarship, I’ll be back to murder the bastard.”
Mrs. Wise’s bottom lip had trembled. She’d wiped her face on her palms and gestured to the box at her feet. “This is better than murder. That’s all the evidence I was able to gather about your father’s business. I had a lot of time to get the files when he was out of his study. I made notes. He owes millions in taxes, and probably should get decades in jail for fraud.” She picked up the box and gestured to my car. “Take the files. They’ll be safe with you.”
So, I’d taken the files, and I’d spent the next ten years sorting through them and gathering any information I could on my father’s business. I saved them to half a dozen USB keys and three cloud backup programs just to be safe. I never acted on it, because I worried he would hurt my mother, or Max, or Willow. I knew he was committing fraud every single day of his life, and I sat on the information.
As Willow and I walk under the trees, guilt floods through me. What if I’d said something sooner? Maybe things would be different.
Finally, she clears her throat. “So? What did your mother mean?”
I suck in a breath, then just start talking. I can’t delay this any longer. “Your mom found out my father was beating us. She confronted him, saying that if he didn’t stop, she’d expose him for fraud. She’d gathered a bunch of incriminating information on his business. I was there when she confronted him. He got mad, fired them both, threatened us all, and kicked me out.”
Willow is silent. I watch her swallow as we walk along the path. She inhales, staring at the path in front of us. “So let me get this straight. When my mother told me that she’d quit, what she really meant was that your father had fired her and threatened her life?”
Emotion tightens my throat, and I nod. “Yeah.”
“What happened to her information? Why didn’t she come forward?”
“She gave it to me.”
Willow stops in her tracks and turns to look at me. Her eyes widen. “You?”
I nod.
“And you just sat on it? You did nothing?”
“I couldn’t, Willow. I—”
I stop myself. I can see the p
ain written in her eyes and the betrayal etched on her face. The truth is, a part of me sat on the information because I was a coward. I can tell myself that I did it for noble reasons, and that I wanted to protect the Wises, that I wanted Willow to get that scholarship, but that’s not the whole truth. I was scared to come back here. I was afraid to face my father. I was too fucking chickenshit to be the whistleblower.
How can a scholarship defend that? How can I turn around and say I did it for her?
Willow’s lip trembles. “Why couldn’t you say anything?” Her voice is hoarse.
The words won’t come out. How do I explain that he basically put her through college? The only reason she got that scholarship is because I left and her mother stayed quiet.
But…was it worth it? What if she hates me for it? If I hadn’t stayed quiet, maybe her parents would still be here. Maybe I would be here, by her side, where I should have been all along.
I wasn’t noble to leave so she could get the money. I was a fucking coward. That’s all.
Willow takes a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut as she raises her hands. “I didn’t understand why they quit, because it seemed to make everything so much harder. This makes sense, though. Your father fired them. After twenty years working for the Black Corporation, he just fired them.” Willow snorts, shaking her head.
“I’m sorry,” I say, pain rocketing against my ribs.
“Sorry isn’t good enough,” she snaps. “Do you even know what happened to my parents? Do you care?”
“Of course I care.”
Willow’s eyes flash. “They started looking for work elsewhere, but no one would give them a job. I remember asking them why they quit.” She struggles to swallow, shaking her head. “I was so confused. They were both educated, with trades and degrees, and they couldn’t get any work in Woodvale. You were gone. Max was angry. No one was talking. Nothing made sense. My parents took two jobs and worked themselves to the bone. They had to drive so early to get to work on time, because the only job they could get was nearly eighty miles away. I guess my father was bone tired from working so much to make ends meet. He drifted into the oncoming lane and was hit head-on by a semi-truck. At least they died instantly. That’s a comforting thought. At least they didn’t suffer as much as they did when they were alive.”
Shouldn’t Want You: A Brother’s Best Friend Romance Page 14