by Leanne Davis
She knew Ally was right, but even now, sometimes she felt guilty twinges of a traitorous desire to just see him. To just see what a decade had done to the man who raised her for a decade, and who she had happily thought of as her dad. She didn’t know until the day he left that he was such a bad person. She had loved him and ached in misery when he was gone. But now she didn’t even know what he looked like. She wondered sometimes what he did now. She wondered as well how she could not have sensed before how terrible a person he was. She looked at his emails once in her junior year. It said he lived in Bend, Oregon and he had recently remarried. Then she quit reading and shuffled the email to some saved folder, never to be looked at again. Though she didn’t delete it. Why? She couldn’t fully admit to herself. She never told her sister she knew where he lived.
Or that he remarried. How? How did he find someone to trust him after everything he did? She must be a horrible person to want him as husband. Right? Had to be. He was a horrible, terrible person, who betrayed those he was supposed to love and take care of.
Just like her.
She lifted her head off the window, opened her eyes, and blinked against the white, illuminated sky. If her mom knew what she was really like and the things she had done, her mom would think that of her too. It was why Kylie could not let her find out. It was why she had to bury that something could maybe have happened to her. It was wrong. She knew. Tommy hurt her, but there was no denying she put herself there in the position to be taken advantage of. In ways, she thought she had asked for it by her very actions. By doing the very things that everyone advised girls her age not to do. How much sense did it make that she willingly did them?
So really, didn’t it make sense she was the one it happened to?
It puzzled her sometimes, why she still went out to parties. Why did she still have sex? Or go out at night? The weird thing was, whatever happened hadn’t soured her on sex. She wasn’t traumatized enough by it to quit sex. Which seemed sacrilegious to Kylie. If she was a true victim of something sexual, how could she desire to still have sex?
And she learned, quickly, it just wasn’t okay as girl to desire to have sex and then do so. It wasn’t okay that she was shy and didn’t know how to date, but still wanted to have sex.
It just wasn’t okay to have casual sex.
So in the end, how could she tell anyone? They’d simply confirm she deserved it. She was part of it. She was to blame. She was a stupid whore.
This time, however? She was shaken by running so boldly into Tommy. It had dragged up feelings she hadn’t felt in a very long while. She needed to go home. She needed her mom. But her mom worried so much about her. She tried to get Kylie to talk and talk and talk. She’d made her see doctors and psychologists over the last ten years and none of it had helped or stuck. So even when she desired her mom, she didn’t always run to her.
But this time it felt a little worse.
She got off at the bus stop in downtown Calliston. She’d grown up here. It was a pretty, small town, not too far from the mountains. Trees decorated the land and the downtown was designed to show off a perfection and neatness that made Kylie feel trapped and unworthy at the same time. She was not comfortable with all the homey, downtown, family-friendly stuff.
She walked down the street to her stepdad’s office suite and opened the door. He was in his office, staring at the large computer screen before him. He lifted his head, typed, and then shifted to glance at a book to his left. She knocked on his door.
Donny Lindstrom was first married to her Aunt Vickie and they had Julia together. He had divorced Vickie around Julia’s second birthday and started dating Kylie’s mom. It wasn’t too long after Micah left that Donny came into her life as something real and important to her mom. It was confusing at the time, but it hadn’t upset her like most would think. It hadn’t scarred her heart like what her father did to her. Donny had stepped in to help her mom and them as an almost daily figure. And then he’d just never left. Everything after the age of ten was with Donny in her world. He was her dad, in every real sense of the world.
Luckily he didn’t really know what a slut she was.
He jumped up and crossed the room when he spotted her just slightly inside his door. His grin was huge and real as he immediately swept her into his arms. “Hey, there, honey. Your mom didn’t mention you were coming home.”
Home.
She was home. Donny was always so nice to her. He paid for her college when he didn’t have to. Even though she knew it was a huge financial burden to them. Her own father had wiped out Donny financially years ago and Vickie had taken a chunk of it when they divorced. But still, he never begrudged her or Ally anything. She wasn’t really his daughter, but he never distinguished between her and Julia. He treated her as his daughter. He acted as if he had three daughters and he was lucky to.
That’s why her infrequent desire to know Micah McKinley, who was her biological father, made her feel like she was stabbing Donny in the heart. He didn’t deserve her disloyalty when he was always loyal to her.
When he swooped in and nearly picked her off her feet in a giant bear hug, she responded by wrapping her arms around his chest and dug her face into his shoulder and clung to him for dear life. She had no idea she was going to react like this. How the hell was she going to explain her desperate grab for Donny and the way her body trembled? Other than at least no tears came rushing over her face. Though she knew that would be the more normal way for a girl to act after running directly into the boy who had raped her. But then, Kylie had never been normal or acted how anyone else did. So even now, she had no tears.
Chapter Three
“WE HAVE A SITUATION.”
Tristan Tamasy glanced up from where he was hunched over a spreadsheet, trying to analyze their budget report for the last quarter to report to his grandfather on. But he paused when said grandfather was suddenly in his doorway.
He entered without asking and shut the door. Tristan stood quickly. He always reacted that way to his grandfather, out of respect… or worship, which was kind of all the same thing for him.
Tristan Ellis Tamasy the second—who was Tristan’s grandfather—went by Ellis. Tristan was the fourth with the same namesake. Ellis was an imposing man even at the age of seventy-two. He still was as sharp and involved in Tamasy Industries as he’d been for the last forty-five years. It had changed structure of course over that time and expanded in both locations and client base, but it was all under the umbrella of Ellis. Tamasy Industries proudly displayed across their website and their social media that they were a custom contract fabricator of stainless, aluminum, steel, and other metals that focused on making short run items, with a quick turnaround. The key with Tamasy Industries was it provided a lot of small order metal parts for a large variety of industries.
Tristan had nothing to do with the metal fabricating that was done by highly skilled craftsman. His grandfather had started out a welder and quickly got his own shop and started building a business that quickly took off. With several locations across the country, they specialized in providing orders in mere days versus weeks or months and each location had strengthened the dominance of Tamasy Industries as a custom metal fabricator that even the military turned to for parts. Tristan knew vaguely how they made stuff, but he knew precisely what they made and how to sell it and how to manage the different locations around the country they now had. He was pure manager. He had learned from business school and then his grandfather. He handled various demands under his grandfather: staffing, performance reviews, budgets, and forecasts, keeping their goals in line with their global strategy.
If Grandfather thought there was a situation, it was code for “a huge problem.” Tristan quickly indicated for his grandfather to sit. Ellis didn’t. He walked to the one lone window. It was a small office; twelve by twelve, with a wall of bookcases, a medium-sized desk and a couple of chairs placed before it. Ellis didn’t believe in nepotism. Sure, he expected and demanded his son and
grandsons’ involvement in the family business, but once there, they had to earn everything. Tristan was in process of that. He was at his grandfather’s beck and call and was honored to be.
“What is it, Granddad?” There was no Pops or Grandpa between them. Mostly, it was Grandfather in reference to him, sometimes Granddad if face to face. Ellis was formal, intimidating, and exacting. In his standards, however, he inspired Tristan to achieve his approval.
“You know how weak your father is.” Tristan stared at the profile of Ellis. His white hair was thinning at the top. Shocking that it dared to defy the neat, impeccable look of Ellis Tamasy. But even he could not stop age. His suit, a black affair over a crisp white shirt and red tie was what Ellis had worn almost every day of his adult life. Only the age spots on his face and hands with wrinkles gave away that Ellis had aged or changed at all in the last twenty years.
Tristan nodded. “Yes, sir.” Tristan braced himself. He hated discussing his father with Ellis. His father, Tristan the third, who went by JR, was a huge black mark on their family’s record in Ellis’s opinion. JR worked at Tamasy Industries in name only. He had an office, but he had zero responsibilities that actually counted. JR showed up at charity events in Tamasy Industries’ name and could be counted on to schmooze potential clients or deals, but anything he said was just talking points hand fed to him by others. The disdain that Ellis held over this was quite hostile. There was no respect for JR and Tristan, being his son, felt he had started with that stain already on his name. He had to work doubly hard to make sure Ellis realized the difference between them. Despite rarely doing actual work, JR had never had time in his busy life for his sons. Tristan could not contemplate what his father had failed at now.
“He can’t control his own son, or figure out basic negotiating skills I swear I had you weaned on by the time you were ten. And JR at fifty still can’t figure it out. No, he still calls me.” Ellis turned toward Tristan, eyes rolling. He sighed heavily as he sat down. “I am too old for this, I fear.”
“Never.” Tristan’s tone was as impassioned as he felt. His grandfather was an imputable wall of energy and success.
Ellis smiled as his gaze still lingered out the window. “Dear boy, what would this family have done if you had not come along? Lord knows that father and brother of yours could not handle this.” He waved his hand to encompass the room, but Tristan knew he meant the entire building and firm and legacy that was his birthright. Or so Ellis had told him since the time he was starting kindergarten. The lore that Tristan had spent every hour of his schooling pushing himself to live up to. He had to be good enough for his grandfather, not his father.
“Your brother is not shaping up to be like you. Such a disappointment.”
“What’s happened?” It wasn’t like Ellis to hem and haw like this.
He shook his head. “There is a girl spreading vicious propaganda about Tommy. Something about nonconsensual sex. No doubt lies to get us to settle with her. Not the first fortune hunter to find us. It’s why you must always be careful with whom you associate. I know you’re a red-blooded male, but be discreet and careful.”
“I know, sir.” Tristan fidgeted in his chair. It was always awkward to have the safe-sex talk with his grandfather. It wasn’t the traditional safe-sex talk most adults gave their young. From the start it had been that Tristan must be careful to not put himself in a position where a girl could bring a lawsuit or paternity suit against him. They had a team of lawyers on retention, but Ellis hated any negative publicity. It undermined his reputation and his company. Plus, it was beneath him, and he considered it beneath his offspring.
“Yes, well, Tommy should be here in a few minutes with your dad. We’ll meet in conference room C and figure this out. But I think I might have you take point on this, Tristan. I just don’t have the patience to hand hold both of them through yet another scandal.”
Tristan nodded. JR had more than one mistress come after them. It was embarrassing and hard. Especially as his mother usually found out. Though Aileen rarely said a word. She stoically took in the gossip and scandal her philandering husband heaped on her.
“What did you have in mind?”
“I think you should approach the girl. Play it settle. You’re young, handsome, girls want to trust you. Use that, Tristan. Use what you got.”
“To do what?”
“Pay her off. Get her to disappear. However you need to.”
“Grandfather!”
Ellis rolled his eyes upwards. “I don’t mean kill her. I mean figure out her skeletons and use it to get her to back off and go away quietly. Or seduce her and totally neutralize her. How could a girl sleep with the brother of a boy who supposedly raped her? No way. No one will buy it. Just make this go away, Tristan. I mean it. This is paramount and your number one assignment right now. Don’t let your brother’s careless, partying ways be the end of us.”
Tristan’s hands grew moist with sweat. It sounded odd. He had never been instructed to do such a thing. He didn’t know what to think. He kept his face impassive and leaned back in his chair as if at ease with Ellis’s instruction. “You’re sure about this?”
“Well, what’s the alternative? Your brother is a rapist? Is that what you want to explore? Really, Tristan? You want that in our family’s legacy? Rape?”
“No. Of course not. Just maybe it was a…a misunderstanding.”
Ellis stood up. Discussion ended. “Fix it, Tristan. If we don’t, more will crawl out of the woodwork, suddenly remembering it happened to them too. They are like rats jumping on a life raft of a sinking ship. Trust me on this. This comes out and more will find us. But first, I suppose we’ll have to meet with your brother and hear what he has to say.”
He exited the office.
Tristan fell back against his chair as if he’d been shot through the heart and the hit had forced him backwards. He seethed. At his grandfather. The Tamasy name. But mostly at his brother. Always in trouble. Always a problem with careless parties, sex, drugs, and pranks. There was a slew of past sins buried by Tristan, JR, and Ellis in Tommy’s history. Tristan was tired of it. But rapist? No, he wasn’t some hulking figure wearing a mask who broke into innocent women’s houses and violently raped them. He was just a stupid college kid, big man on campus with an almost limitless supply of the hottest coeds after him. It was heady stuff. It inflated a guy’s ego to almost dangerous proportions. It made sex a game. It almost got boring. Night after night, sex right there, anytime with anyone, and all of them so beautiful.
It got confusing. It was so rare one of the girls didn’t want to, that it could be a little surprising. Tristan should know. Six years ago, he was that guy.
His intercom beeped. “Tommy and JR are here.”
He answered the deep voice of his secretary, Reese. Reese was a huge man in his forties who helped keep things formal and professional. He was Tristan’s right hand work-wise and Tristan more than appreciated the other man’s skills and work ethic, something often lacking in the Tamasy family genes, expect of course, for his grandfather and him. “Tell them conference room C.”
Which he knew was one of Ellis’s ploys. Instead of meeting casually as father and sons in Tristan’s office, they were meeting on neutral ground with Grandfather in control. It was a power play, and his grandfather was like an expert chess player, only his board was this company and his pieces were all his employees, family, and potential clients.
Tristan adjusted his tie and put his suit jacket on. He was polished and creased, just as Ellis taught him. Look the man, the boss, the enigma, and people will treat you as such.
Tristan’s looks, like that of his father and brother, helped with that. They were all big men, with blond hair and blue eyes. He was considered the beauty of his family. It was embarrassing sometimes the way his mother gushed over his looks when he was young. Later on, girls did it too.
Tommy was sprawled in one of the mauve chairs that surrounded the long, oval, conference room table. “Hey
, Tristan.” He nodded as he tapped his fingers to the edge of the wood.
“Tommy. Dad. Why don’t we get started,” Tristan said, taking control as Ellis nodded from the head of the table with approval, his eyes bright. Tristan felt the confidence Ellis’s approval always inspired start to bubble in him.
He straightened his back as he sat across from Tommy. “What’s the deal?”
JR cleared his throat. It irritated Tristan how much his father cowered and fumbled in Ellis’s presence. He couldn’t live up to him or stand up to him. Tristan felt disdain towards the man who should have raised him, but really, it was all Ellis who did the raising. JR was too busy screwing women and partying it up with too much alcohol. He really didn’t know much more about his dad than that. JR and he spent little time together and never had.
“Well, there is this girl who is making noise that she was date raped… by Tommy.”
“What exactly did she say?”
“That she went to the fraternity, was drinking, and then doesn’t remember what happened but woke up in Tommy’s room with no clothes on. She was sore and covered in semen. She ran home and showered it all away. Waits two months and then finally comes forward with an exam at the student health clinic.”
“What does she want?”
“I’m not hearing of any actual accusations. She’s talking to people. Maybe she’s just, you know…”
“What, Tristan? What is she doing? She’s not working through anything. She’s setting up to come after me. You don’t think I did this, do you? My God. You don’t believe me capable, do you?”
Tristan flushed and heat burned through his body. No. Of course he didn’t think Tommy raped anyone. But maybe he got a little rough or misunderstood something. Maybe this was all just a misunderstanding, or the girl was hurt by Tommy not wanting to see her again. Maybe they could just talk to her…
“No. Of course I know this is a shakedown. So you’re saying there is nothing official yet?”