by Chloe Walsh
It felt surreal to be sitting here having an actual conversation with the woman who had caused so much pain in my life. “Why am I here, Rachel?” I asked, my patience running thin.
“Your dad,” she choked out, her eyes filling with tears “He paid me.”
I stared blankly. “Say what?”
“He paid me Kyle,” she said urgently. “The night of our car accident, he came to see me in the hospital and offered me money—more money than I could have hoped to earn in ten years—to watch you. I wasn’t well,” she cried. “I had a drug habit, Kyle. Cocaine and meth. At the time I didn’t know what I was getting involved in. I accepted his offer because I was desperate.”
“You’re lying,” I snarled, not believing one fucking word that was coming out of her mouth. “David may be a bastard, but he wouldn’t fucking concoct something as twisted as what your implying.” I shook my head in disgust. “If that’s why you’ve been sending me all those fucked up letters then I’m calling your bluff, Rachel.”
“He wants to ruin you,” she hissed. “David Henderson is holding a very bad grudge against you because of the inheritance. He’s dangerous and he’s clever. Where do you think I got the gun?” She demanded. “How do you think I had access to your home?”
I opened my mouth to answer her but nothing came out.
Was she serious?
Was this another one of her cruel fucking tricks?
“At first he only wanted me to keep close tabs on you,” she told me, rambling on quickly. “But when Lee arrived and you began to turn against me, David started getting worried. He told me to put the pressure on—get rid of her. She needed to go, he insisted.”
Inhaling a shaky breath, Rachel wiped her eyes with her free hand and sniffled. “So that’s what I did, Kyle. But you wouldn’t leave her alone. You were infatuated with a plain little girl when you had me. Even when she was pregnant and had broken up with you, you wouldn’t let her go,” she hissed.
“You wanted her with the same amount of passion I wanted to get rid of her, and the child . . . the child was a worry for David,” Rachel choked out. “He was concerned whether or not you would sell the business and follow the teenager. She got inside of your head, Kyle. Something I’d spent years trying to do.”
“You’re lying,” I whispered, barely able to breathe from the pain of her words.
“Why would I lie, Kyle?” she growled. “I pleaded guilty. I’m serving a life sentence. What do I have to gain?”
“Because you’re a twisted, lying whore,” I spat. “Who is determined to make my life a goddamn misery?”
She sighed heavily. “I was going to tell you everything the day you called the ambulance. He’d ordered me to kill her and I didn’t want to do it, I swear I didn’t, but I was afraid. So, I went to you and begged you to get rid of her. Get rid of her before I had to. If she had just left . . . none of this would have happened . . .”
“If all of this is true then why didn’t you tell the cops?” I demanded, chest heaving, her words tormenting me.
“I deserve to be in here,” Rachel replied softly. “I killed Cam. I shot Lee, and nothing I can say will prove I was paid. There is no paper trail,” she wept. “He’s too clever to leave any loose ends. You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”
“You’re not lying to me?” I asked as rage churned inside of me. “Rachel, I swear to god if you’re lying to me . . .”
“I’m not lying, Kyle,” she sobbed, wiping her nose with a tissue. “And telling you this was my last job,” she whispered.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean,” I demanded.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” was all she replied. “Be careful who you trust, Kyle,” she told me. “Women have a tendency to lose their minds over you . . .”
This couldn’t be happening.
This wasn’t fucking happening.
Rachel’s words churned around in my mind until I felt like I would explode with Rage.
“Is he here?” I demanded as I shoved past Mike and stormed into my office, chest heaving, eyes wild and frantic.
“Kyle?” Mike shouted as he rushed after me. “What’s wrong?”
“You,” I roared, the moment my eyes found David. He was sitting on my chair, behind my goddamn desk.
“You fucking bastard,” I snarled. “I know what you did to my wife. You ordered that hit. . . .” My words trailed off when I registered the sound of a baby crying.
“Where is she?” I whispered, legs shaking.
“She’s right here,” David said in an innocent tone of voice as Kelsie stepped through the door with my daughter in her arms.
My legs nearly caved in as I strode across my office to my daughter.
My hands shook as I took her out of Kelsie’s arms and held to my chest. “Kelsie, you need to call the cops. Right now.”
I backed away slowly with my daughter in my arms. “He orchestrated everything. The shooting. The blackmail . . . You’re going to prison for this,” I warned him. “I’m gonna take you down for this.”
I watched in shock as Kelsie sauntered over to my father and kissed him on the fucking lips.
“Are you insane?” I roared. “Do you know what he did to my family?”
“Yes,” Kelsie said with a smirk. “I helped him.”
“And I couldn’t have done it without you, sweetheart,” David crooned. “Rachel was weak. She almost caved. I needed Kelsie to get you to the prison—to subtly persuade you to sign your life away. You trusted her judgment, even when your wife told you not to . . .” He sighed and shook his head. “Silly boy.”
I had a million different thoughts running through my mind, a thousand different emotions tearing through my heart, but the only word I could choke out was, “Why?”
David stared at me with this . . . bored expression. I couldn’t make out one single thing he was feeling and it hurt.
It fucking came close to killing me.
The betrayal.
The fucking lies.
“Because this was never supposed to be yours,” he said softly. “You were never supposed to be a part of this. My father took pity on you. If I had my way, you would have been the contents of a used condom. But I was young and foolish, and your mother was a whore.”
“What the hell is going on?” Mike demanded as he came to stand beside me. “Dad,” he whispered. “What have you done?”
“You have two choices, Kyle,” David said in an even tone. “Sign everything over to me now and I’ll tell you where your sweet little wife is.” My heart stopped and David sighed dramatically. “Or don’t sign and waste precious time in trying to find her on your own.”
“What did you do to her?” I whispered, clutching my chest as the sharpest pain I’d ever felt tore through me. “Where is she?”
“You are fucked up, Dad.” Mike roared. “Call this off,” he snarled. “Call it off or we’re done. I fucking mean it, Dad.” He grabbed his hair in frustration. “Jesus Christ, Dad, he’s your kid. He is your son.”
“Relax, Michael,” David said in a bored tone of voice. “Kyle knows what the right thing to do is, don’t you, Kyle? Sign the forms and I’ll tell you where she is.”
Handing Hope over to my brother, I stepped forward and held my hand out “Give me the papers.”
“Don’t, Kyle,” Mike begged as he held Hope to his chest, trying to calm her. “Dad, don’t make him do this.”
“It’s all right, Mike,” I said quietly. “He can have it. I’m done.” Ignoring Mike’s pleas, I took the papers from David. “You got a pen?”
“For this occasion, most definitely,” he chucked, handing me a pen.
I didn’t read it—didn’t check. I knew what I was signing over; everything.
“Done.” I tossed the papers on his desk. “Now, where is she?”
“I always knew that girl would be your downfall,” David mused. “Maybe I should have done this in the
first place. It’s certainly more civil than any other method I’ve used.” He scrunched his nose in distaste. “And all for a girl,” he scorned. “They say pride before the fall, but in your case I would have to say girl . . .”
“Wife,” I hissed. “She is my wife. And I’m willing to die for her. That’s something you’ll never have,” I roared. “Where is she, David?”
David chuckled. “She’s having a reunion with her daddy right about now. At Thirteenth Street,” he added wryly. “I felt the location would be fitting . . .”
“No,” I spat, shaking my head furiously. “You’re lying. Jimmy’s in prison.”
“No,” David said with a smirk. “I told you Jimmy was in prison. You’re the one who was too self-absorbed, too busy pining over my father’s whore, to check it out for yourself.”
“You fucking planned everything, didn’t you?” I choked out, struggling to drag air into my lungs “The attack on Lee in the hotel? Pretending you were interested in spending time with Hope? Jimmy and you were working together all along.”
“Jimmy wanted vengeance,” David mused. “I wanted this place.” Shrugging he added, “He was quite useful . . . oh, and you really should hurry, Kyle,” he chuckled. “Old Jim wasn’t too pleased when he got hold of her.”
“I fucking hate you,” I snarled. “You can take the hotels. Take the houses and the money. Fucking keep it all. I’ll survive. I fucking got by long enough on my wit. But you,” I shook my head and rushed for the door. “There’s no hope for you. Enjoy your inheritance, David. It’s all you’ll ever get from me.”
“I’m bored of this,” David groaned. “You can leave now.”
“Kyle, wait,” Mike pleaded. “This has to be some kind of trap. Don’t go over there,” he begged. “Call the cops.”
“I don’t have time,” I hissed, taking Hope from him. “She’ll be . . .”
“Kyle?”
“Derek,” I choked out, turning around when the sound of my best friend’s voice drilled through my ears.
“What’s going on?” he demanded. “I’ve been trying to call you . . .”
“Lee’s been kidnapped,” Mike growled. “By her fucked up father, and Kyle’s going after her on his own.”
“To hell you are,” Derek hissed. “I’m coming with you.”
“Take her home for me,” I begged as I thrust my daughter into Derek’s arms.
Pressing a kiss to Hope’s forehead, I shook my head and stared into my best-friend’s eyes. “Please, Derek,” I whispered. “I need her safe. I’m trusting you with my fucking world here.”
“I won’t let him hurt you,” Tracy whispered as she held my hand tightly. “Don’t cry, baby . . .” her voice cracked as she tried to comfort me. “He won’t hurt you ever again.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered as I clung to my mother, the fear of what was about to happen was almost too much to bear, but the fear I felt for my daughter was worse. So much worse . . .”For the horrible things I said to you in the past. I’m so sorry.” I needed to tell her. I probably wouldn’t get another chance. “And I love you,” I added quickly. “I love you and I don’t blame you . . .”
“Get away from her, bitch,” Daddy snarled as he stalked towards us.
Grabbing Tracy by the hair, he dragged her away from me kicking and screaming. Her dress was torn. Her face was bruised and the blood on her thighs made me clench my eyes shut, as I furiously tried to block out the image of what I knew he’d done to her . . .
Wrapping my arms around my knees, I curled into the smallest ball I could, my whole body tensed up and waiting for the blow. “Why are you doing this?” I sobbed. I’d been asking him the same question since I woke up on the kitchen floor in Thirteenth Street with my mother’s blood-soaked hands wrapped around me. And all I’d found out was David Henderson was a traitorous bastard. He’d lied to me, tricked me into believing I was safe and used my father’s insanity—and I was positive he was insane—and thirst for vengeance on my mother in his bid to steal Kyle’s inheritance.
Everything had been a lie. Everything. And now, because of that man’s greed, my daughter was missing, my mother was bleeding heavily, and I was afraid of losing the one thing I’d never thought I’d have again.
I needed to stay calm.
Dr. Michaels’ words floated into my mine. “Your blood tests show you’re pregnant, Lee–about six weeks along.
“You thirsty, Delia?” Daddy drawled, breaking through my reverie, as he uncorked the bottle of whiskey and poured it over my head. “You sound a little hoarse, darling,” he hissed.
“No,” I begged, clenching my eyes shut to protect them from the sting of the alcohol as I wiped the whiskey off my face furiously.
“Let’s make this interesting,” he taunted. Resting on one knee, he pulled his pocket- knife out and knotted his fingers in my hair. “Looking good, darling,” he chuckled as he pierced the flesh of my check with his knife and dragged it roughly down to my jawline. I bit back a scream. He could ruin my face. All I wanted him to do was leave my stomach alone. Closing my eyes, I inhaled through my mouth, not daring to breathe through my nose in case I smelled the blood that was trickling down my face.
Daddy released my hair and I scrambled away until my back hit the refrigerator.
The sound of his cruel laugh drilled through my ears moments before the smell of singeing hair flooded my nostrils, followed quickly by white hot heat crawling all over my scalp as the burning sensation spread until I thought I would pass out from the pain.
“Stop,” I screamed as I patted my head, trying to quench the fire. The smell . . . the smell infused my senses. Paralyzed me with ungodly fear of death.
“What’s wrong, Delia?” Daddy taunted. “Did the bottle just bite you, darling?”
This was it.
I was going to die and I wasn’t ready.
I wouldn’t ever be ready.
One moment I was on fire, writhing in agony, and the next I was soaking wet.
Opening my eyes, I saw my mother standing over me with an empty dish in her hands. “Oh god,” she cried, her legs giving out beneath her, as she dropped the dish and fell to her knees beside me and threw her arms around me. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“I told you to get away from her, you dirty whore,” Daddy roared before he raised his leg and kicked Tracy in the side of her head. She collapsed on top of me, moaning in pain, as she clutched her face.
“I’m gonna fuck you some more,” he snarled as he dragged my mother away from me. “And when I’m done with you, I’m gonna taste your little bastard, you fucking bitch.”
“God,” I screamed. “You’re my father.” Clenching my eyes shut, I wrapped my arms around my stomach and shook my head. “How can you say that?”
“You’re not my fucking daughter,” he roared, stunning me into silence, stealing the breath inside my lungs.
“You,” he sneered. “Are the result of your mother being a dirty, lying whore.”
“Lia, I’m so sorry,” Tracy cried as she curled into a ball on the floor. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“Why don’t you just tell her who her daddy is, Tracy,” Daddy snarled. “She’s obviously too fucking dumb to figure it out for herself.”
“What are you talking about?” I shook my head and gaped at my parents. “This is crazy. You’re insane,” I spat. “Stop saying these things.”
“When I left my grandpa’s house,” Tracy sobbed. “I was pregnant with you.”
“That boy from your hometown?” I whispered.
Tracy nodded.
“No.” I blinked back my tears. “No, that can’t be true.” I stared up at my father. “I have your eyes,” I whispered.
“You have his eyes,” he roared. “That spineless piece of shit who was fucking my wife behind my back. And now I’m gonna fuck his whore and his daughter.”
“Who are you talking about?” I screamed, pre
ssing my fingers to my temples.
“Ted fucking Frey,” Daddy roared. “He’s your daddy.”
“No.” I shook my head, vehemently rejecting his words. “He’s lying, isn’t he?” I demanded. “Tell me this is a trick?”
“He’s telling you the truth,” she confirmed before swinging her gaze on my dad. “And I’m glad,” she spat. “I’m glad I never brought any child of yours into the world. You are poison.”
Ted was my father? Ted was the boy from her hometown?
Oh god . . .
Twisting sideways, I vomited on the floor, finding all of this too much to handle. I couldn’t. I needed Kyle. “Kyle,” I whispered to myself as I rocked back and forth. “Kyle . . .”
I heard my mother cry out weakly and then there was silence.
I clenched my eyes shut and covered my ears with my hands.
I had to get out of here.
I had to break free.
“Keep calling that punk’s name, girl, and I’ll fuck you up,” he roared.
“He’s going to fuck you up when he finds me,” I screamed. “Kyle will get you.”
“Don’t touch me,” I screamed when Daddy’s hand curled around the back of my neck. “Don’t put those fingers near me, you bastard.”
“Kyle,” I cried out as his dirty hands ripped at my shirt. “Please, please stop, daddy.”
“I ain’t your father, whore,” he growled as his hands tore my shirt open. Shoving me onto my back, he straddled my legs. “It’s time you paid me back for all I’ve done for you.”
“Oh god,” I screamed through my tears. “Help me . . .”
“Ain’t nobody gonna save you this time, princess,” he snarled as he ripped at my jeans. “Your pretty boy can’t hear your screams. He won’t want you by the time I’m through with you.”
“Get off me,” I screamed as I clawed at his face. “I hate you, you bastard.”
Digging my nails into his eyes, I broke free and scrambled onto my stomach. His hand fisted my hair and dragged me back so hard I could feel clumps tearing off. “Stop,” I screamed as I tried to break free from his hold. “Stop touching me.”