Hidden Miles: The Miles Family Book 4

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Hidden Miles: The Miles Family Book 4 Page 13

by Kingsley, Claire


  “Then why get married?” I asked. “Why did he commit to you—on paper, at least—if he didn’t want it?”

  “Probably expectations,” she said. “That was just what you did. Date someone, marry them, start a career, raise a family.”

  “But that life was never enough for him.”

  “He wasn’t happy being put in charge of Salishan,” she said. “But my parents’ health kept declining and little by little, he took on more responsibility. I think he felt trapped.”

  “That’s no excuse.”

  “No, it isn’t.” She paused for a long moment. “I almost left him when you were little. It was when he’d started seeing Naomi, but I had no idea about that at the time. I just knew he was gone more than he was home, leaving me alone to raise our kids mostly on my own.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Fear. I don’t like admitting that, but it’s the truth. I was afraid of being a single mom. Afraid he’d disappear from your lives completely. And afraid of what would happen to Salishan. Fear is what kept me from leaving him a thousand times over the years. I thought it was better to keep our family together.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom.”

  “So often life doesn’t turn out the way we think it will.” She glanced at me from the corner of her eye. “I think we’ve both learned that lesson.”

  “Isn’t that the truth.”

  I thought back on the guy I’d been before. I hardly remembered him. I’d been quiet and easygoing. Star athlete. Lots of friends. A far cry from the deformed recluse I’d become.

  No, life hadn’t turned out the way I’d though it would.

  When we got to our destination, we parked outside the prison—a sprawling complex of concrete buildings surrounded by tall fences and barbed wire. It was so strange to think of my dad being here. How had he let things go to shit so badly? Why hadn’t his life been enough? Why throw it all away like this?

  I wasn’t sure if he’d tell me. But I was going to ask.

  We checked in and got visitor badges. Even after being patted down, the guards eyed me, as if I looked like I belonged on the other side of the bars. I kept my head down and let my mom do the talking. Focused on staying calm.

  Although now that we were here, I was calm. Strangely so. A sense of purpose had once again stolen over me. I was here for a reason: to get some answers out of my father.

  A guard led us back to the visiting room. I’d wondered if there would be clear Plexiglas walls, with Dad on a phone on the other side. But here, prisoners were led into the room and allowed to sit with their visitors at a table while several guards watched from the perimeter.

  We sat at a table and waited. There was one other prisoner here with a visitor—a young man with a shaved head and tattoos down his arms to his knuckles. He sat with a woman who was probably his wife or girlfriend. They held hands and spoke in soft voices while a guard stood nearby, watching.

  The door opened and another guard entered, leading my father.

  He looked like shit. But it wasn’t the blue prison garb or the handcuffs. His hair had gone almost entirely gray and his skin was sallow. His eyes landed on Mom and he stopped in his tracks before reaching our table.

  Then he looked at me.

  “Leo?” he asked, his voice filled with awe.

  I knew why. He’d probably figured I was a lost cause. That I’d never leave Salishan again. He smiled, his eyes filled with pride. And I hated that his approval could still make me feel good.

  “Do you want me to wait outside?” I asked my mom, my voice low.

  “No. You can stay.”

  Dad looked between the two of us as he took his seat. “When they told me I had visitors, you two were the last people I expected to see.”

  Mom pulled a folder out of her bag and set it on the table. “This is the divorce settlement. You’re going to sign it.”

  He looked down at the folder and before he said a word, I knew he wasn’t going to argue. His shoulders sagged, his head bowing forward. The man didn’t have any fight left in him.

  “All right,” he said, not lifting his eyes. “I’ll sign.”

  Mom slid a pen across the table. Her back was stick-straight, her eyes never leaving my father. Dad skimmed the pages and signed or initialed where she’d put markers.

  He signed the final page and closed the folder, then pushed it across the table. Mom grabbed it and flipped through every page, checking to make sure it was complete, before putting it back in her bag. “Goodbye, Lawrence.”

  “For what it’s worth,” he said as she started to stand, “I’m sorry.”

  Mom slowly lowered herself back into her chair. Her voice was ice cold. “You’re sorry?”

  Dad nodded.

  “If I ever find it within myself to forgive you, it won’t be because you apologized, and it certainly won’t be for you,” Mom said. “It will be for me. I won’t sit here and try to console you. It’s not my job to make you feel better for your mistakes anymore. You put me through hell—betrayed me in every way imaginable. Do you think signing these papers makes things right? It’s the absolute least you can do after everything you’ve done to your family.”

  “I know. Shannon, I—”

  “Don’t even say my name,” she said. “You don’t have that privilege anymore. The only reason I don’t regret every moment of the last thirty-five years of my life is that you gave me four beautiful children. And honestly? I hate you more for what you did to them than what you did to me. The only consolation I have is that now you have to live with what you’ve done. You’ll have to spend the rest of your miserable life knowing that you had everything and threw it all away. Now you have nothing, and I have everything.”

  He watched her, speechless, as she stood and gathered her things.

  She met my eyes and I nodded. I needed a minute with him. She seemed to understand. The guard let her out and she left without looking back.

  Dad’s eyes were on the door.

  “Did you expect anything else?” I asked, my voice low.

  He shook his head and turned his gaze to me. “No. How long have you been leaving the winery?”

  “I’m not here to talk about me.”

  “That’s fine, but Leo, I thought you—”

  “I said I’m not here to talk about me.” I held his eyes, my expression carefully neutral.

  “Then why are you here?” he asked. “To tell me how many things I’ve done wrong? Believe me, I’m well aware of that.”

  “It’s easy to decide to be penitent after you’ve been caught.”

  He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hands up and down his face. “What do you want?”

  “I want answers. The rest of the family doesn’t care—or maybe they just don’t want to have to be in the same room with you long enough to find out—but I do. I want to know.”

  “Fine. What do you want to know?”

  I’d thought about this for a long time—what I’d ask him if I had the chance. There were so many things. His affair with Naomi Harris. His other children, Grace and Elijah. The latest mistress. I could have asked how many there had been. Had there ever been a time when he’d been faithful to Mom? I could have asked why he hadn’t been satisfied with his own family. With us. But those weren’t the things I needed to know.

  “Why did you try to take Salishan away from Mom?” I asked. “Why go after the land?”

  “Because I dedicated my life to that place. I sacrificed my dreams—my career—to run Salishan. I didn’t ask for that.”

  “Don’t give me that shit. That has nothing to do with it. Mom offered to buy you out—her original deal was fair—and you came back with a counter that would have left her with nothing. Why? After everything else you did, why go after her land? You hated the winery. Are you really that much of a hateful bastard that you couldn’t stand it if she got to keep Salishan?”

  He took a deep breath. “No. I know there’s no way you’ll believe me, but I wasn’t tryi
ng to hurt your mother.”

  “Then why?”

  He cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “I owe a lot of money, and I don’t mean credit cards or to a bank.”

  “Why? What were you doing?”

  “Gambling, mostly,” he said. “It started out as just a way to blow off steam. I’d take a road trip, hit up a few casinos. Nothing big. I was under a lot of pressure. Salishan was struggling, and I had other expenses—”

  “You mean a second family.”

  He cleared his throat. “So you do know.”

  “About Naomi Harris? And Grace and Elijah? Yeah, we know.”

  “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter, now.”

  “It matters, but that’s not why I’m here. How did you go from hitting up a few casinos to growing drugs? It obviously wasn’t to pay your youngest son’s medical bills. Roland had to do that for you.”

  “Leo, it’s complicated.”

  “Don’t patronize me. You could have settled with Mom, but you didn’t. You went after her entire life. And then you put us all in danger with your dumbass drug operation. For what? So you could act like a high roller at some poker tables?”

  “They were going to kill me,” he hissed. “I gave them everything I had, but it wasn’t enough.”

  “Is that why you’re still here? No bail money?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your latest girlfriend didn’t want to help?”

  “Kristen…” He trailed off, looking away. “She left several months ago.”

  I stared at him for a long moment. He was barely recognizable. There’d been a time when I’d looked up to this man. When I’d sought his approval. But now, I couldn’t even drum up any pity. He’d made so many terrible choices. So many mistakes. Sitting here in front of me was a man who’d lost absolutely everything. His family. His home. His career. His freedom. And he deserved everything that had happened to him.

  Maybe there was justice in this world.

  “I’m glad you signed the divorce papers,” I said, my voice cold. “I didn’t want to have to make you.”

  “Leo…”

  “What, Dad?”

  “It’s good to see you.”

  I stood. I wasn’t going to let him indulge in some father-son bullshit. “Whatever. You fucked up and now you can live with the consequences.”

  Like my mom had done before me, I walked out without looking back.

  Eighteen

  Leo

  Hannah wasn’t here when I got home. I had a text saying she’d gone out for dinner and drinks with the girls. That meant Zoe, Brynn, and Amelia. I liked that she got along with my sisters. Amelia wasn’t a sister yet, technically, but we all knew Cooper was going to marry her someday.

  However, I was worried about how we’d left things. She’d shared things with me, then tried to kiss me, and I’d turned away. When I’d left, she’d seemed fine. But I didn’t trust that. My gut was telling me she wasn’t.

  For now, I sat down at my desk and pulled up the security footage archives. I’d spent the drive home turning over the things my dad had said. Gambling debt. That wasn’t good, especially if the people he owed money to knew about Salishan. And Mom. They might decide to come after us for their money. Or use us as leverage to get to Dad.

  I’d need to warn Grace, too.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. I’d been worried Dad’s arrest wouldn’t mean the end. Whoever he’d been working with on that drug deal might still be a problem. Goddamn him. His level of selfishness was staggering. And he’d thought we might have some kind of father-son moment because I’d finally left the winery?

  Piece of shit.

  I spent some time scanning through the footage, particularly in front of the Big House. I didn’t watch the security feeds in their entirety, but I sometimes let them run on a separate screen while I was doing other things, just to get a feel for who was coming and going. And a few weeks ago, I’d noticed a guy wandering around the grounds. He hadn’t done anything particularly suspicious, but something about him had tickled my instincts.

  Guests wandered around the property all the time. It was one of the reasons people came here, especially when the weather was nice. We gave tours, of course, but people often walked through the main grounds and gardens on their own. Usually it was couples or small groups, but it wasn’t unusual for someone to be here alone.

  But I had a nagging feeling about this guy. I found the section of the security feed I’d seen before. There he was, outside the Big House. He stood near the parking lot wearing a pair of sunglasses, looking at his phone. Pretty normal behavior.

  Then something—or someone—off-camera caught his attention. He looked up, tracked their movement, lifted his phone and took several pictures.

  Guests taking photos wasn’t unusual either. People did that all the time. But what had he been taking a picture of?

  I brought up a different feed—a camera that showed another angle. Found the same date and time. I watched for a few seconds and it felt like my heart jumped into my throat. A woman walked across the bottom of the screen, right where the two camera feeds met, at exactly the same moment the man had taken several pictures.

  It was my mom.

  From this angle, I couldn’t quite see her face, but there was no mistaking her. Some guy had been standing around, watching, and then taken photos of my mother.

  Why? Was he a random guest? Had he taken other photos? Had he targeted her specifically? I backed up the footage, trying to track what else he’d done.

  I saw him walk near the Big House. He wasn’t in a vehicle—maybe he’d parked in town. Had he done that on purpose so his license plate couldn’t be tracked?

  He went into the Big House. Came out several minutes later. Stood near the parking lot, idly watching his surroundings. Then he’d taken several pictures of my mom.

  After that, he’d walked back toward town.

  Fuck.

  This wasn’t good. I didn’t know who this guy was, or what connection he might have to my dad, if any. But it didn’t seem coincidental that my dad had recently been arrested, owed bad people money, and this guy had been here scoping out his wife. Soon-to-be-ex-wife, but maybe they didn’t know that. Or maybe they didn’t care.

  If this guy had been here before, that might tell me more. I had a hacked version of some facial recognition software. It was powerful stuff. I decided to run the last month’s worth of security footage through it to see if that guy had been here before. I isolated the image and started the scan.

  I needed to talk to Roland. And figure out how to increase security, especially around Mom. She wasn’t going to like it. Maybe I’d have Ben talk to her. He had a knack for that sort of thing, especially where she was concerned.

  Before the scan was finished, Hannah came home. She looked adorable in a blue cardigan and vintage Wonder Woman t-shirt. She tossed her purse onto the couch and pulled off her shoes.

  “Hey, you’re back,” she said. “How did it go?”

  “He signed the divorce papers.”

  “Oh good. I’m happy for your mom.”

  “Me too.”

  “How was it for you, though?” she asked.

  “It sucked, actually,” I said. “But it was good that I went.”

  “Good,” she said. “Dinner was fun. Zoe is hilarious. Brynn and Amelia are fun to hang out with too. But I’m telling you, Zoe is basically my spirit animal.”

  I smiled. “She’s pretty cool.”

  “Yeah, she is.” Hannah tucked herself onto the couch, in what had become her corner, pulling a blanket into her lap. “I ate too much, though. I’m so full.”

  I gazed at her, curled up in the corner of the couch. She was a lot smaller than me. I wanted to pull her into my lap and hold her. Tell her I was sorry for not kissing her. I wanted to tell her the truth—confess how much I wanted her. How I fantasized about her constantly. Saw her in my dreams.

  But I couldn’t. I had to protect her, even if that meant
protecting her from me.

  Something was bothering her. I could see it. She nibbled on her bottom lip and her eyes darted around. Was it what had happened between us earlier? Or had something happened while I was gone?

  “What’s on your mind?” I asked.

  “What? Nothing. Why?”

  “You look pensive.”

  “Do I? I guess I do, but you’ve had a long day. We don’t need to do this now.”

  “Do this? Do what? Now you have to tell me.”

  She glanced away and took a breath. “Okay… I’ve had some time to think about this, and I think it’s time I move into the other cottage.”

  It felt like the floor dropped out from under me. The sensation of dread that poured through my veins was ridiculous. The Hummingbird Cottage was a short walk from here. It wasn’t like she’d just said she wanted to move back to Seattle. But I hated the thought of her leaving so much, I curled my hands into fists.

  She was mine, and I wanted her here.

  God, Leo, what the fuck. She’s not yours.

  “Why?”

  “Well, you don’t really have room for me here. You’ve been sleeping on the couch for over a month, which is just silly.”

  “I told you I don’t mind.”

  “I know, but we talked before about the other guest cottage.” She gestured toward the door. “I’ll pay your mom rent, that’s not a problem. And you can have your space back.”

  What was I supposed to say to that? She was right. Except…

  “No.”

  “Excuse me?” she asked. “What do you mean, no?”

  Holy shit, had I said that out loud? “I mean, no, you shouldn’t move over to the other cottage.”

  “Why not?”

  Great question. How are you going to answer that one, Leo? “Because I like having you here.”

  “You like…” She trailed off, then threw her hands up in the air. “Really, Leo? That’s nice of you to say, but I’m getting some seriously mixed messages here.”

  “I know.”

 

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