No denial came. Only silence between us as he offered all the confirmation I needed.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, turning to look at where Ivory and Matteo watched in concern. Worry, but not surprise creased Ivory’s features.
She’d known. They’d all known.
I stumbled back a step as my heart cracked open in my chest. It felt like they could see me bleeding, like they could see the wounds they’d all inflicted with the secret that had the power to destroy me.
“I let you touch me,” I whispered, staring up at Scar. “The things I let you do to me…” I trailed off, raising a hand to my face to cover my mouth and fight back the swirling in my stomach.
I was going to be sick.
“Don’t you dare,” Scar snapped, that deep command in his voice doing nothing to tame the fury rising in me. He had control over me because I’d given it.
But I’d fucking take it all back now that I knew the truth.
“What happens between you and I has nothing to do with your mother,” he said, stepping closer to me.
“How could it possibly have ‘nothing’ to do with my mother? You killed her!”
“I didn’t know you then! I didn’t even know she had a daughter at the time. All I knew was that she knowingly supplied the dealer with the dirty heroin that killed my fucking sister, Irina. She was another name on my list to avenge Cesca’s death. You can’t fault me for something I did before I knew you existed.”
“Would you change it?” I asked, the area around us going silent.
Nobody spoke. Nobody breathed. Waiting for his answer.
“No,” he said, shaking his head as he hung it forward.
I broke. All the pieces I’d thought he’d helped me fix crumbling until they landed on the pavement for everyone to see.
“Then I guess it doesn’t matter much if you didn’t know me then, does it? You wouldn’t have done anything differently anyway.”
“She’d already left you,” he said, as if that excused what he’d done.
“She was still my mother, and if you truly believed that you hadn’t done anything wrong, you wouldn’t have kept it from me. Was I ever supposed to know the truth?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head.
The wall between us made my heart hurt, made me curl my arms around myself for comfort. I’d thought I knew what it meant to be alone, to feel lonely in a crowded room.
I’d thought I found a place where I belonged.
Instead there was just more pain.
“You should have just let me die,” I whispered, watching as his face twisted and he clenched his jaw. “It would have hurt less than this.”
“Butterfly, I love you,” he said, stepping closer to me. I backed away again, shaking my head as Aoife stepped in at my side. I hadn’t even noticed her in the chaos, hadn’t seen her or Yavin.
“I don’t think you know what that word means. I guess you were right about that,” I scoffed.
“We have to go,” Matteo said, his stare falling on Scar. Scar nodded, something passing between the men as Matteo, Simon, Yavin, and a massive group of the others climbed into the SUVs parked in the driveway and disappeared.
My father was nowhere to be found. Removed from the chaos, along with my means of escape.
“Let’s go inside, love. You need to breathe,” Aoife said, wrapping her hands around my arm. She pulled me along with her, taking me back into the house. I heard Scar and Ivory following at our heels, my gaze snagging on Yavin’s as he followed after her.
I hoped he never lied to her.
“I think some space would be good right now,” Ivory said, the solemnness in her voice reminding me of where her loyalty lay. She would always be in Scar’s corner.
I was just the girl she’d helped trick into marrying him.
Aoife guided me to the kitchen, depositing me onto one of the stools at the island as Ivory went to the freezer and pulled out the bottle of vodka she kept stored there. She poured some into a glass, pushing it across the island so that I could raise it and down it in a single gulp.
“You knew,” I accused.
“I did,” she said sadly.
“You did?” Aoife asked, the hurt on her face echoing what I felt in my soul. At least one person hadn’t known, hadn’t kept it from me.
“He told me when he was trying to explain why he had to stay away from you. I just didn’t think it mattered,” Ivory said with a hollow, disbelieving laugh.
“How could it not matter?” I demanded, sputtering at the lack of concern she could show over the death of a parent.
“Matteo did something when we were first together and then kept it from me. I was so furious with him when I found out. I left him,” she said, biting her bottom lip. “But something happened that gave me perspective. Scar nearly died trying to protect me, and the entire time all I could think of was the time I’d wasted being mad at Matteo. All I wanted was to fall asleep in his arms one more time. I forgave him. Not because what he did wasn’t terrible, but because I couldn’t stand the thought of not waking up next to him every morning.”
“Did Matteo slit your mother’s throat?”
“No,” she admitted, holding my gaze.
“It should have been my choice,” I said, staring back at her.
“And now it is. If you can walk out that door and not regret everything you’ll lose, then maybe I was wrong. Maybe the two of you don’t have the kind of bond that can overcome this. Maybe this does weigh heavier than how much you love him. I really hope I’m not, though,” she said, pouring more vodka into my glass. “Because losing you will break him.”
“It will break me too,” I admitted, closing my eyes as I failed to push away the sob that climbed up my throat. I didn’t want to live without him, but there were just so many lies. So many—
I froze, the memory of a word whispered in my ear. The memory of my fingers trailing over the O in Darragh’s last name on the knife.
I turned to Aoife, my tears stopping in a single, heart-stopping moment that threatened to shred me down to my very soul.
You’ll take it all for the little breagadoir.
The memory of his laughter was like ice on my skin.
“What does breagadoir mean?” I asked, wrapping my palms around Aoife’s arms. She stared at me in surprise, her brow knitting as she glanced toward Ivory in confusion.
“It means liar,” she said, flinching when I looked around the otherwise empty kitchen.
“Where’s Madison?” I asked, jumping off the stool and shoving my way past Aoife. Dread filled my veins, ice water coating my skin. Everything I’d sacrificed.
For nothing.
“Madison!” I yelled, calling out to the girl the Bellandis had taken in. To the girl they’d given sanctuary. To the girl I’d sacrificed myself for.
For the little fucking liar herself.
66
SCAR
Irina skidded to a halt in front of the windows at the front of the foyer. Her face with a mask of rage, she pulled open the door and ran out to the driveway.
“Irina!” I yelled, chasing after her in determination. I’d meant what I said.