by Laura Pavlov
I’d found myself in the alley near the valet, and I’d crouched down beside the dumpster. He’d treated me like trash, and there I was sitting beside a big, stinky garbage bin. I could vividly remember trying to calm my breathing and sliding down the wall to sit on the ground. That’s when I let the tears fall.
Only once I was alone.
Always when I was alone.
And I’d let them. I’d rested my head on my knees and muffled my sobs with my hand. A sick feeling settled in my stomach when I thought about that moment. I’d never cried over my father before that day. But being there, seeing him face-to-face. The way he’d looked at me, like I was the shit beneath his shoes. It hurt.
It hurt a lot.
I knew I was more than that. I’d worked hard to be different from my mother. Hell, I’d made it a mission to be the opposite of her. I had never even tasted alcohol back then. I didn’t smoke. I didn’t have boyfriends and I hadn’t had sex yet either. How many girls heading off to college could say the same? I’d tried so hard to be different. I’d studied. And I’d worked damn hard. And it had all been intentional. But in that moment, I felt like I’d never be free of her shadow. I’d always just be Valentina DeLuca’s daughter.
It was something that I never wanted to feel again.
And fuck her for putting me in that situation. For asking me to do that for her. She was a selfish asshole back then just like she was now.
I think what crushed me most was that I’d gone there for myself. A part of me thought maybe he’d be interested in knowing me. Surprised that I’d turned out well in spite of where I’d come from. Maybe he’d even be impressed with me.
But he’d offered me money and begged me to leave. I shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d never wanted me, why would that have suddenly changed?
I washed my face and patted it with a towel before making my way back to the couch, staring at the muted TV as the news flashed a graph of tomorrow’s weather. I closed my eyes and I could still hear the can rolling down the alley, and the smell of sour milk and cigarettes that wafted from the trash bin.
I pushed to my feet and used the sleeve of my shirt to wipe away the tears. Shouting came from the other side of the dumpster and I peeked out. Bryce Reynolds was arguing with the tall guy as he handed the valet his ticket. They were already leaving? And the tall man was pissed.
“You’re going to fucking tell your wife, Bryce. Do you hear me? This is unacceptable. She’s a kid. She’s your fucking kid. Jesus Christ. How could you do this?”
Thanks, tall dude. At least someone else realizes how fucked up this is.
“Let me fucking handle it,” Evil Daddy Dearest said.
The car pulled up, and they continued to shout before they got inside.
“You’ve done a shitty job of handling it so far. This ends now.”
I heard a muffled response from Bryce as the car sped off.
There was a little satisfaction in the fact that his friend seemed appalled by him.
I swiped at my face when I realized a single tear was rolling down my cheek. Even today, it still stung. And even more so now that I’d learned that he was someone important to Ford and his friend had been Ford’s father. I flipped the television off, trying hard to forget how I felt when I stepped out from behind that garbage can. I’d handed my ticket to the valet attendant, and I couldn’t wait to get on the plane the following day. I wanted to get away from everyone and everything.
I wanted to forget about the rejection.
Leaving on my trip to Europe would be a fresh start.
One I’d desperately needed at the time.
I laid my head down on the throw pillow on my couch and stretched out my legs. The memories were almost too much. And the truth about who Bryce Reynolds was to me, to Ford—I didn’t know how this would play out. I held my phone in my hand, silently willing Ford to call me.
To tell me we were going to be okay.
Chapter Twenty
Ford
I walked up the driveway as I processed all that she’d just told me. My head spun. Vision blurred. There was a ringing in my ears as I pushed open the doors and entered the gala. I couldn’t think straight, as anger coursed through my veins. Had it all been a fucking lie? This man who’d been like a father to me—had not only lied to me about my own father, but he’d abandoned the woman I loved. Was it true?
Things fell into place in my mind as I scanned the dining room. Why would my father have been driving Bryce’s car? I’d never asked him about it, because well, I didn’t think I needed to. But it never added up. My dad being so angry that he’d driven off the road. It hadn’t sat well with me. But it sure as shit had fueled the guilt I felt about my father’s death—the thought that he’d been that angry. Hanky had been conscious at the scene. He told us and the police what happened, and no one ever questioned it. Including me. Because I’d been busy drowning in grief. And Hanky, well, he was family.
My father’s best friend.
Had it been guilt that caused him to step up after my father passed away?
Show me the truth, Dad.
My brothers walked toward where I stood at the entrance to the dining room, and right behind them was Hanky.
“Where’d you go? Thought you were going to introduce me to this new, amazing lady of yours?” Hanky said, and my brothers’ faces hardened as they took me in.
“What’s wrong?” Jack asked, both of them moving beside me.
I stared at my godfather. My confidante. “Her name is Harley. Harley DeLuca.”
His reaction was all I needed. His face turned stark white, and his gaze filled with fear as it met mine. My fist flew before I could stop it. Jack caught Hanky before he fell to the ground, and Harrison hustled me out into the lobby.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he snapped, and Jack assisted Hanky out to the lobby as well, closing the doors to the dining room.
“Tell them,” I said.
He shook his head as his wet gaze met mine.
“Fucking tell them, you coward,” I shouted.
“It was a mistake. A one-time thing. I was young. Should I ruin everyone’s life over that? I protected my family,” he said, wiping at his mouth and smearing the blood coming from his lip.
“She was your fucking family, you piece of shit. You left her with a monster. And you turned her away the night of the accident. Dad wasn’t okay with it, was he? Admit it. All these fucking years you let me believe he drove that car off the road arguing with you about me. But you were the one driving that car. You were the one that killed him.” I shoved him back as my brothers watched with disbelief.
“Ford Robert,” my mother hollered as she came through the double doors from the dining room and asked security to keep people out of the lobby.
“Tell her, Hanky. Tell her what you did. How you left your daughter, Harley, to fend for herself with that drug-abusing lunatic. How you abandoned your own child. How you turned her away when she came to you when she was grown—offering her money to keep your little secret like she was worthless. Tell her that Dad found out, and that’s what you were arguing about the night of the accident. Tell her that you were driving the goddamn car when he was ejected and killed. It was all you, Hanky.”
My mother moved to stand beside me. Her face morphed in pain as she stared at him in horror. Hanky didn’t speak. He avoided her gaze like a fucking coward.
She took a step forward and slapped him hard across the face. “I think enough has been said. The fact that he wasn’t denying it was enough. I need to speak to my boys. Go home, Hanky.”
Mom took my hand while Harrison and Jack followed behind us. She led us into her office, and we all dropped to sit on the couch and chairs.
“How do you know this?” she whispered.
“Harley recognized him tonight. She wanted to meet her father after
she graduated from high school. She followed him to a restaurant. It was the night of Dad’s accident. She said Dad was furious with Hanky and they were shouting. She was out in the alley after Hanky rejected her and made her feel worthless. She said Dad was in the passenger seat of the car, Mom. She never knew what happened after because she left for Europe the following day. She put it all together tonight. Do you think Hanky lied because he was drunk?”
Tears ran down my mother’s face, and I glanced at my brothers. Jack’s face was beet red, and his hands fisted at his side. Harrison sat completely quiet and shook his head as a tear ran down his face.
“I don’t know, son. But we’re going to find out, I can tell you that. Where is Harley now?”
“I was in shock when she told me. I had Jerome take her home. Everything was a lie, Mom. All the anger and the guilt over what I did—it wasn’t even what they were fighting about. And he let me think that. He let me drown in it. I want to destroy him for what he did to her. For what he did to us.”
“He killed Dad, and he’ll be held accountable,” Harrison said, coming over to sit beside me.
“I’ll kill him with my bare hands. Hanky is Harl’s dad? How is that possible?” Jack pushed to his feet and paced the room.
“He called it a mistake,” Harrison snapped. “A one-time thing. But he had a daughter, and he turned his back on her.”
“Harley is four years younger than Chanel, which means Hanky and Marie were married with both kids when he got Harley’s mother pregnant.” I shook my head, trying to wrap my head around all of this. It was too much to process.
“Chanel and Baron are her siblings,” Harrison said.
“And obviously Dad wasn’t okay with what he’d found out that night. He must have been fucking furious,” Jack said, yanking at his overgrown hair. He tugged at his bow tie and let it fall to the ground.
“Harley said that Dad insisted they drive right to Hanky’s house and he come clean. Somewhere along the way, Hanky drove that car off the road. Was it intentional? Was it because he was drunk and angry? We’ll never fucking know. He holds all the answers.”
“Oh, we’ll know. Don’t you worry about that. Secrets always come to the surface,” my mother said, walking to her desk and reaching for some tissue.
“What happens to Marie, Baron, and Chanel if we take this public?” Harrison whispered.
“And what happens to Harley? We thought her mom was a piece of shit? Now her father is a bigger piece of shit? Where does that leave her?” I asked.
“Where they both left her most of her life. On her own,” my mother whispered.
Harrison left the room and we all sat in silence. He returned two minutes later holding a bottle of whiskey. He took a swig and passed it to me. I passed the bottle to Jack, who handed it to Mom. We all gaped as she tipped her head back and took a long pull of whiskey.
“What are you going to do?” Harrison asked me.
“I don’t have a fucking clue.” I reached for the bottle and took another swig.
“Well, I think we should all go back to the house. Spend the night there. Together. You need to call Harley and make sure she made it home safely and is doing okay.” Mom wiped at her face again and reached for her cell phone. “Daniel, it’s Monica. We have a family emergency and the boys’ and I need to leave. Can you handle the rest of the event on your own? Have Jasmine and Sabrina assist you, please. And I need you to make sure that Hanky has left the premises. Thank you.”
And just like that, the four of us left the winery and headed home. To the home we’d shared our entire life with our father. The home that Hanky had visited almost daily over the years. And nothing would ever be the same. I tried to call Harley and it went to voicemail, so I hung up. What needed to be said couldn’t happen over voicemail. I texted Jerome, and he informed me that she arrived home safely. He said she didn’t speak at all and requested to be taken to her apartment. A sick feeling settled in my stomach.
We’d all been in shock last night. We helped Mom to her room, and I stood outside her door and listened to her muffled cries. It enraged me. Jack, Harrison, and I stayed up until the morning hours drinking. My head pounded and my mouth was so fucking dry, I fumbled around the nightstand to find my water bottle.
Sunlight flooded through the opening in the curtains and I sat back and guzzled my water. I reached for my phone to see if Harley had called. Where the fuck did we even stand now? The man I’d worshiped was her piece-of-shit father. She’d seen my father on the night of his accident. The irony was not lost on me. Dad died fighting for the woman I love. What were the fucking chances? I ran a hand over my face.
Would she feel the same about me? Did this change anything between us? Why the fuck should it? It had nothing to do with either of us. Yet she hadn’t called me back, and we were in the midst of a fucking shitstorm. I needed to deal with this Hanky nightmare now.
I wandered out to the kitchen and heard Jack shouting. My head continued to pound, and I leaned against the doorframe and watched as my brothers argued about how to handle the situation.
“He’s not going to fucking tell them on his own. Hell, he’s kept Harley a secret for twenty-three years. Why come clean now?” Jack said, punching his fist on the table.
“Because we aren’t giving him a fucking choice.” I moved to the coffeemaker and poured a cup of coffee. It made me think of my girl. Everything did. Fuck. I dialed her number but ended the call before the first ring. What the hell would I even say right now?
Hey, I punched Hanky for abandoning you and killing my father, and now I’m trying to figure out what the hell to do next.
No. I’d need to speak to her in person. We were in the midst of this hell, and I had to figure out what to do before going to her with it. Hanky needed to be held accountable for what he’d done to her, and to my family.
I dropped down to sit at the kitchen table beside my brothers, just as Mom walked into the kitchen and took a seat beside me. Her eyes were puffy, with dark circles beneath. She looked like she hadn’t slept at all.
“Chanel called. She’d like to come over and speak to us,” Mom said.
“Is he coming with her?” Harrison asked, running a hand down his face.
“No. She’s coming alone. I don’t know what she knows. And as angry as I am with Hanky—I would never hurt Chanel by telling her something that her father should have told her. So hopefully she knows what’s going on and that’s what she wants to speak to us about.”
“Jesus. This doesn’t even seem fucking real,” Jack said, pushing to his feet when the doorbell rang.
My pulse raced. I’d known Chanel my entire life. This would change everything for both of our families, and it sucked that Hanky’s choices would trickle down to everyone. But this couldn’t be ignored. He would have to face the consequences of his actions.
When Jack and Chanel entered the kitchen, there was no doubt in my mind that Hanky had come clean. She looked as shitty as the rest of us. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was makeup-free. Her tear-streaked cheeks let us all know she’d been crying. She wore a hoodie and leggings and it was all very… un-Chanel. The woman never left the house unless she was dressed to the nines.
She dropped in the chair across from me, and when she looked up, two tears ran down her face. Her lip trembled as she tried to speak. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to fix this. But he’s my father and I can’t turn my back on him. So, I’m here first as his legal representation.”
“What the fuck, Chanel,” I barked.
She put her hands up to stop me from my tirade that was going to follow. She knew me well. That worked to her favor. “Ford. Stop. Let me finish. I’m not here to defend his actions. They are not defendable. But I need you to know a few things before we move forward. I called in a favor and had the police report sent over from the night of the accident. I wa
s also able to access the hospital records through the firm. I’ve read through everything over the last several hours. Dad was not at the legal limit. His blood-alcohol level was .5. He wasn’t drunk. Why did he lie about who was driving that car? Well, according to him, he panicked. He was scared. He had been drinking, but not much, which is clear from his blood alcohol level. But he said he feared you all would blame him for killing your father. He said he’s blamed himself for the last five years. It doesn’t make it excusable, but it’s a fact that matters. I want you to know that if my father’s blood alcohol level had been above the legal limit, I would have advised him to turn himself in. That’s the truth.”
We all sat quietly.
Listening.
Processing.
“Well, for what it’s worth. I’m glad he wasn’t drunk. That would change things for me, as far as the way we proceeded.” My mother stood and poured a cup of coffee for Chanel and handed it to her. “And, please know that we don’t hold this against you. We love you. This has nothing to do with you or Baron or your mother. But my issues with Hanky, well, I don’t know how to move forward.”
“I understand that.” Chanel swiped at her face, and her gaze locked with mine. “I know there is a lot more here than his blood alcohol level, but I thought it was an important detail to clear up first. I brought a copy of all of the records so that you could see them as well.” She handed me the stack of papers, which I would be going through later today.
“How about the fact that he let Ford believe Dad was upset about their argument? He let my brother carry that fuckin guilt for the last five years.” Jack’s words cracked as he spoke. My brother never cried. He was a fighter. He liked to attack and bark at people when he was angry. But this was Chanel. And he was struggling.
She covered her face with her hands and spoke through her sobs. “It’s inexcusable. He was a coward.”
Mom moved over to sit beside her and placed a hand over hers on the table. “He had a secret he’d been covering up for a long time. I’m guessing he just panicked.”