Chesapeake Bay Saga 1-4

by Nora Roberts

  “That cuts through it. She—Gloria. Her name’s Gloria. She’s not like Sybill. Gloria hated her. I think she must’ve been born hating everyone. Whatever she had growing up, it never seemed to be enough.”

  He was pale, and looked so drawn and ill, Dru had to bank down on the urge to simply gather him close and comfort. “For some, nothing is ever enough.”

  “Yeah. She took off with some guy at some point, got knocked up. That would be me. Turns out he married her. That’s not important. I’ve never met him. He doesn’t come into this.”

  “Your father—”

  “Sperm donor,” Seth corrected. “I don’t know what happened between them. I don’t lose sleep over it. When Gloria ran out of money, she went back home, took me with her. I don’t remember any of that. They didn’t kill the fatted calf for her. Gloria’s got an affection for the bottle, and various chemical enhancements. I think she came and went for a few years. I know when Sybill had a place of her own in New York, she dumped me there. I don’t remember much about it. Didn’t remember Sybill at all when I first met her again. I was a couple years old. Sybill gave me this stuffed dog. I called it Yours. You know, when I asked whose it was she said . . .”

  “Yours,” Dru finished, and touched, brushed a hand over his hair. “She was kind to you.”

  “She was great. Like I said, I don’t remember much, except feeling safe when I was with her. She took us in, bought us food, clothes, took care of me when Gloria didn’t show up for a few days. And Gloria paid her back by stealing everything she could fence when Sybill was out, and taking off with me.”

  “You didn’t have a choice. Children don’t.”

  “I’m not taking on responsibility for it. I’m just saying. I don’t know why she didn’t leave me and head out on her own. I can only figure it was because Sybill and I had made a connection, because we . . .”

  “Because you’d started to love each other.” Dru took his hand, let his fingers grip tight on hers. “And she resented you both, so she couldn’t have that.”

  He closed his eyes a moment. “It helps that you get it.”

  “You didn’t think I would.”

  “I don’t know what I thought. She fucks me up; that’s the only excuse I’ve got.”

  “Save the excuses. Tell me the rest.”

  He set the coffee aside. It wasn’t doing anything for his headache or queasy stomach but making him more awake and aware of them. “We lived a lot of different places, for short amounts of time. She had a lot of men. I knew about sex before I could write my own name. She’d get drunk or high, so I was on my own a lot. She ran low on money, couldn’t get high, she’d take it out on me.”

  “She hit you.”

  “Jesus, Dru. However perceptive you are, you don’t know that kind of world. Why should you? Why should anybody?” He pulled himself in. “She’d beat the shit out of me if she felt like it. I’d go hungry if she didn’t feel like feeding me. And if she paid for drugs with sex, I’d hear them going at it in the next room. There wasn’t much I hadn’t seen by the time I was six.”

  It sickened her. It made her want to weep. But if Seth needed anything from her now, it was strength. “Why didn’t Social Services do something to help you?”

  He just looked at her for a moment, as if she’d spoken in a language he didn’t recognize. “We didn’t hang around in places where concerned adults call the authorities on junkie mothers and their abused kids. She was mean, but she’s never been stupid. I thought about running away, started to save up for it. A nickel here, a quarter there. When I was old enough, she dumped me in school—gave her more time to cruise. I loved it. I loved school. Never admitted it, couldn’t be so uncool, but I loved it.”

  “None of your teachers realized what was going on?”

  “It never occurred to me to tell anybody.” He shrugged. “It was life, that’s all. And under it, I was just so fucking scared of her. Then . . . I guess I was about seven the first time. One of the men she brought back with her . . .”

  He shook his head, pushed to his feet. Even after all the years between, the memories could slick his skin with sweat. “Some of them had a taste for young boys.”

  Her heart simply stopped, then jolted again to pound in her throat. “No. No.”

  “I always got away. I was fast, and I was mean. I found places to hide. But I knew what it meant when one of them tried to put his hands on me. I knew what it meant. It was a long time before I could stand anyone touching me. I couldn’t stand being touched. I can’t get through this if you cry.”

  She willed back the tears that threatened to overflow. But she rose, crossed to him. Without a word she wrapped her arms around him.

  “Poor baby,” she crooned, rocking him. “Poor little boy.”

  Undone, he pressed his face to her shoulder. The smell of her hair, of her skin was so clean. “I didn’t want you to know about this.”

  “Did you think I would love you less?”

  “I just didn’t want you to know.”

  “I do know, and I’m so awed by who you are. You think this is beyond my scope, because of my background. But you’re wrong.” She held tight. “You’re wrong. She never broke you, Seth.”

  “She might have, but for the Quinns. I have to finish.” He drew himself away. “Let me finish it.”

  “Come sit down.”

  He went with her, sat on the side of the bed again. “During one of her scenes with her mother, Gloria found out about Ray. It gave her someone else to hate, someone else to blame for all the injustices she liked to think were aimed at her. He was teaching at the university here when she found him. This was after Stella had died, after my brothers were adults and had moved out of the house. Cam was in Europe, Phil in Baltimore and Ethan had his own place in Saint Chris. She blackmailed Ray.”

  “For what? He didn’t even know she existed.”

  “Didn’t matter to her. She demanded money; he paid. She wanted more, went to the dean and spun some lie about sexual harassment. Tried to pass me off as Ray’s kid. It didn’t fly, but it started planting seeds here and there. He made a deal with her. He wanted to get me away from her. He wanted to take care of me.”

  “He was a good man. Every time I’ve heard his name mentioned by anyone in Saint Chris, it’s with affection and respect.”

  “He was the best,” Seth agreed. “She knew he was a good man. That’s the kind of thing she despises, and needs to use. So she sold me to him.”

  “Well, that was a mistake,” Dru said mildly. “And the first decent thing she ever did for you.”

  “Yeah.” He let out a long breath. “You get it. I didn’t know who he was. All I knew was that this big old man treated me . . . decent, and I wanted to stay in that house on the water. When he made promises, he kept them, and he never hurt me. He made me toe the line, but, hell, you wanted to when it was Ray’s line. He had a puppy, and I never had to go hungry. Most of all, I was away from her, for the first time away from her. I was never going back. He said I’d never have to, and I believed him. But she came back.”

  “Realized her mistake.”

  “Realized she’d sold off cheap. She wanted more money or she was taking me. He gave her more, kept giving it. One day, he had an accident on the way back from paying her. It was bad. They called Cam back from Europe. I still remember the first time I saw him, the first time I saw the three of them together, standing around Ray’s hospital bed. Ray made them promise to take care of me, to keep me with them. He didn’t tell them about Gloria or the connection. Maybe he wasn’t thinking about that. He was dying, and he knew it, and he just wanted to make sure I was safe. He trusted them to take care of me.”

  “He knew his sons,” Dru said aloud.

  “He knew them—better than I did. When he died, I figured they’d ship me off, or I’d have to run off. I never figured they’d keep me around. They didn’t know me, so what did they care? But they kept their promise to Ray. They changed their lives around for hi
m, and for me. They made a home—pretty wild one at first with Cam running it.”

  For the first time since he’d begun, some of the misery lifted. Humor slid into his voice. “He was always blowing something up in the microwave or flooding the kitchen. Guy didn’t have a clue. I pushed at them, gave them—Cam mostly—as much grief as I could dish out. And I could dish out plenty. I kept waiting for them to kick me out, or smack me senseless. But they stuck with me. They stood up for me, and when Gloria tried to hose them like she’d done with Ray, they fought for me. Even before we found out I was Ray’s grandson, they’d made me one of them.”

  “They love you, Seth. Anyone can see it’s as much for your sake as it is for their father’s.”

  “I know it. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them. Including paying off Gloria, the way I’ve been doing on and off since I was fourteen.”

  “She didn’t stay away.”

  “No. She’s back now. That’s where I was tonight, meeting her to discuss her latest terms. She came into your shop. Guess she wanted to get a close-up look at you while she was figuring her angles on this one.”

  “The woman.” Dru stiffened, rubbed suddenly chilled arms. “Harrow, she said. Glo Harrow.”

  “It’s DeLauter. I think Harrow’s a family name. She knows about your family. The money, the connections, the political implications. She’s added that to the mix. She’ll do her best to hurt you, the way she’ll do whatever she can to hurt my family if I don’t give her what she’s after.”

  “It’s just another form of blackmail. I know something about this kind of blackmail, the kind that uses your feelings to squeeze you dry. She’s using your love as a weapon.”

  A chill danced over his skin at the phrase, and he heard the echo of Stella’s voice in his mind. “What did you say?”

  “I said she’s using your love as a weapon, and you’re handing it to her. It has to stop. You have to tell your family. Now.”

  “Jesus, Dru, I haven’t figured out if telling them’s the right thing to do. Much less telling them at two in the morning.”

  “You know very well it’s the right thing, the only thing to do. Do you think what time it is matters to them?”

  She crossed to the workbench where he’d tossed his phone. “I’d say Anna would be the one to call first, and she can contact the others.” She held out the phone. “Do you want to call her and tell her we’re on our way, or shall I?”

  “You’re awful damn bossy all of a sudden.”

  “Because you need to be bossed just at the moment. Do you think I’m going to stand by and let her do this to you? Do you think any of us will?”

  “The point is, she’s the monkey on my back. I don’t want her taking swipes at you, my family. I need to protect you from that.”

  “Protect me? You’re lucky I don’t knock you senseless with this phone. Your solution was to let me go. Do you think I want some self-sacrificing white knight?”

  He nearly smiled. “Would that be the same thing as a martyr?”

  “Close enough.”

  He held out his hand. “Don’t hit me. Just give me the phone.”

  EIGHTEEN

  THE KITCHEN HAD always been the place for family meetings. Discussions, small celebrations were held there; decisions and plans were made there. Punishments were meted out and praise was given most often at the old kitchen table no one had ever considered replacing.

  It was there they gathered now, with coffee on the stove and the lights bright enough to push away the dark. It seemed to Dru there were too many of them to fit in that limited space. But they made room for one another. They made room for her.

  They had all come without hesitation, dragging themselves and their sleeping kids out of bed. They had to be alarmed, but no one peppered Seth with questions. She could feel the tension quivering in the sluggish, middle-of-the-night air.

  The younger ones were shuffled upstairs and back to any available bed, with Emily in charge. Dru imagined there was quite a bit of whispered speculation going on up there by anyone who’d managed to stay awake.

  “I’m sorry about this,” Seth began.

  “You drag us all out of bed at two in the morning, you’ve got a reason.” Phillip closed his hand over Sybill’s. “You kill somebody? Because if we’ve got to dispose of a body this time of night, we’d better get started.”

  Grateful for the attempt to lighten the mood, Seth shook his head. “Not this time. Might be easier all around if I had.”

  “Spit it out, Seth,” Cam told him. “The sooner you tell us what’s wrong, the sooner we can do something about it.”

  “I met with Gloria tonight.”

  There was silence, one long beat. Seth looked at Sybill, understanding she’d be the most upset. “I’m sorry. I was going to try to find a way not to tell you, but there isn’t one.”

  “Why wouldn’t you tell us?” There was strain in Sybill’s voice, and her hand tightened visibly on Phillip’s. “If she’s in the area and bothering you, we need to know.”

  “It’s not the first time.”

  “It’s going to be the last.” Fury snapped into Cam’s voice. “What the hell is this, Seth? She’s been back around before and you didn’t mention it?”

  “I didn’t see the point in getting everyone worked up—the way you’re going to be worked up now.”

  “Fuck that. When? When did she start coming back around you?”

  “Cam—”

  “If you’re going to tell me to calm down,” he said to Anna, “you’re wasting your breath. I asked you a question, Seth.”

  “Since I was about fourteen.”

  “Son of a bitch.” Cam shoved back from the table. Across from him, Dru jumped. She’d never seen that kind of rage, the kind with a ready violence that threatened to smash everything in its path.

  “She’s been coming around you all this time, for years, and you don’t say a goddamn word?”

  “No point yelling at him yet.” Ethan leaned on the table, and though his voice was calm, there was something in his eyes that warned Dru his manner of fury would be every bit as lethal as his brother’s. “She get money from you?”

  Seth started to speak, then just shrugged.

  “Now you can yell at him,” Ethan muttered.

  “You paid her? You’ve been paying her?” Shock vibrated as Cam stared at Seth. “What the hell’s the matter with you? We’d’ve booted her greedy ass to Nebraska if you’d said one goddamn word about it. We took all the legal steps to keep her away from you. Why the hell did you let her bleed you?”

  “I’d’ve done anything to keep her from touching any one of you. It was just money. For Christ’s sake, what do I care about that as long as she went away again?”

  “But she didn’t stay away,” Anna said quietly. Quietly because her own temper was simmering under the surface. If it boiled over, it would make Cam’s seem like a little boy’s tantrum. “Did she?”

  “No, but—”

  “You should’ve trusted us. You had to know we’d be there for you.”

  “Oh God, Anna, I knew that.”

  “This isn’t the way to show it,” Cam snapped.

  “I gave her money.” Seth held out his hands. “Just money. It was all I knew how to do, to protect you. I needed to do something, anything I could to pay you back.”

  “Pay us back? For what?”

  “You saved me.” Emotions swelled in Seth’s voice and the almost desperate flood of them silenced the room. “You gave me everything I’ve ever had that was decent, that was clean, that was fucking normal. You changed your lives for me, and you did it when I was nothing to you. You made me family. Goddamn it. Goddamn it, Cam, you made me.”

  It took a moment before he could speak, but when he did Cam’s voice was rough, and it was final. “I don’t want to hear that kind of crap from you. I don’t want to hear about fucking checks and fucking balances.”

  “That’s not what he meant.” Struggling with tears, G
race spoke softly. “Sit down now. Sit down now, Cam, and don’t slap at him that way. He’s right.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” But Cam dropped back in his chair. “Just what the hell does that mean?”

  “He never lets me say it,” Seth managed. “None of them ever let me—”

  “Hush now,” Grace said. “They did save you, and they started it when you were nothing more than a promise to their father, because they loved him. Then they did it for you, because they loved you. All of us loved you. If you weren’t grateful for what they did, for what they’ve never stopped doing, there’d be something wrong with you.”

  “I wanted to—”

  “Wait.” Grace only had to lift a finger to stop him. “Love doesn’t require payment. Cam’s right about that. There are no checks and balances here.”

  “I needed to give something back. But that wasn’t all. She said things about Aubrey.” He stared at Grace as the color ran out of her face.

  Aubrey, who’d been silently weeping, found her voice. “What? She used me?”

  “Just things like wasn’t she pretty, and wouldn’t it be a shame if anything happened to her. Or her little sister, or her cousins. Christ, I was terrified. I was fucking fourteen. I was scared to death if I said anything to anybody she’d find a way to hurt Aubrey, or one of the kids.”

  “Of course you were,” Anna said. “She counted on that.”

  “And when she said I owed her for all the trouble I’d caused her, how she needed a few hundred for traveling money, I figured it was the best way to get rid of her. Jesus, Grace was pregnant with Deke, and Kevin and Bram were just babies. I just wanted her gone and away from them.”

  “She knew that.” Sybill let out a sigh, rose to go to the coffeepot. “She knew how much your family mattered to you, so that’s what she used. She was always good at finding just the right button to push. She pushed mine often enough when I was a lot older than fourteen.” She laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezed as she topped off mugs. “Ray was a grown man, but he paid her.”

  “She’d go away, months at a time,” Seth continued. “Even years. But she came back. I had money. My share from the boatyard, what you gave me from Ray, then from some paintings. She hit me twice when I was in college, then came back for a third. I’d figured out she wasn’t going anywhere, not for long. I knew it was stupid to keep paying her. I had the chance to go to Europe to study, to work. I took it. Wasn’t any point in her coming around here if I was gone.”