Something inside me shifted with a jolt as the information I’d been hearing filtered through, registering more fully. Past the shock and the sadness and the throbbing pain, my brain was starting to work.
Vivien was Tess’s last hope. Not mine.
I opened my eyes and stared at the wood beneath my feet.
I was out. I was free.
Daddy’s voice cut off my lightbulb moment “Come now, Jack, you didn’t honestly think I would let some lowly farmhand come to my town and join my cast without making sure I was the one who pulled his strings, now did you?”
Silence followed. I winced at the idea of what Jack’s face must look like now. At the horror in his eyes when he fully realized that my father had been playing him all along, just like he’d played the rest of us.
I couldn’t bear to think of Jack’s agony when he realized that his father’s future was on the line and his own independence was at stake… because of me.
This was my fault. Oh, I might not have done the dirty work this time, but I’d drawn Jack into this world. Into my world. I should have known Daddy would be two steps ahead. I should have known that if I’d had any taste of happiness, he would crush it.
Jack was under his thumb now, and that I would have to fix.
I closed my eyes, listening to my breath, to the painful silence as my father no doubt gloated over once again having the upper hand.
“So, you see, while I admire your little Scooby Doo investigation into my finances, I’m afraid you’ve gone to a lot of trouble for nothing.” He set down his glass, and I tensed.
He couldn’t find me out here eavesdropping or there would be hell to pay.
I struggled to my feet and headed back toward my room, but then thought better of it.
I didn’t want to see Jack—I had no idea what to say to him. And if he kept this from me—if he pretended that everything was all right…
The thought alone felt like betrayal.
But could I really expect him to choose me over his father?
No.
Of course not.
And Tess.
I shut my eyes as I hovered in front of my bedroom door.
Tess had known. She’d known. I didn’t have to imagine betrayal, I felt it like a stab in the gut. I should have known she’d still have her secrets. How long she’d been sitting on this, I didn’t know, but no matter how long it was, it was too long.
I heard their voices behind me and moved quickly, heading toward a side entrance and ducking behind some hedges to keep from being seen.
Pulling out my phone, I deleted the text I’d started to Jack. I couldn’t see him right now. Jack knew, and he was going to keep it from me. I just knew it. I shut my eyes tight. Not that I could blame him. His father’s livelihood was hanging in the balance. His whole life was in danger and all because he’d met me.
I stared down at my phone trying to figure out what to do next. Who I could trust.
Brandon. I texted him quickly and told him where to meet me with his car—at the bottom of the hill by Tess’s private entrance.
She and Jack were likely searching my room and the party if they wanted to find me. But I couldn’t see them. I needed answers, and right now, I wasn’t sure I could trust either one of them.
I didn’t move from my spot until I heard Brandon’s ride pull up, and then I dove into his car like I was on the run from the law.
“Hey, are you all right? What’s with the SOS?” Brandon asked as I clicked in the seatbelt.
“Could you give me a ride to my mom’s house?”
He was staring at me, and that was when I realized there was enough light coming from a light post along the driveway that he could see me face. Definitely the puffy eyes. Maybe a bruise.
“Lila, are you okay? What happened?”
“Please, Brandon.” I didn’t even try to have dignity as I pleaded with him. “I just need a ride. I’d have to cut through the house to get to my car, and I don’t really want to drive right now and—”
“Yeah. Of course.” He was already putting the car in drive and turning his attention to the road. “Whatever you need, Lila. You know that.”
“Thanks.” It came out as a whisper, and I was horrified to find more tears welling before I turned to look out the window.
Brandon, thankfully, stopped with the questions. Though I knew he was probably dying to ask more, he drove the entire way in silence, letting me stew in my thoughts as I tried and failed to figure out what to do next.
My mother had seemed like the best start. I needed answers, and clearly, she was the only one who could provide them.
I could also probably crash there for the night, although the thought of it wasn’t exactly appealing. If her boyfriend was still away, then she’d be hammered, and if he was there, I’d be forced to deal with his prissy attitude and his snide comments.
When we pulled up to the bungalow, most of the lights were off and her boyfriend’s car was nowhere to be seen.
Still away then, thank God. I so did not need to deal with his outbursts during this conversation. I drew in a deep breath and let it out with a weary sigh as I reached for the door handle.
“Do you want me to come in?” Brandon asked.
I turned back to see his eyes filled with concern and fixed on my neck. There’d be finger marks there, no doubt. Any other time I might have cared.
“Stay here,” I said. I still wasn’t sure I wanted to spend any more time than necessary with my mother, especially after this conversation. Then, I belatedly added, “Please.”
He gave me a small smile and a nod. “Whatever you need.”
My mother barely lifted her head from the couch when I walked into the living room. A true-crime show was playing in the background, but her head was tipped back. For a second, I thought maybe she was sleeping, but then I saw the glass of wine dangling from one of her hands. A step closer and I saw the mask on her face which gave her a creepy vibe as she said, “Oh look. A surprise visit from my daughter.”
She didn’t sound pleased. Which was fine. I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be here. “I need to ask you a question.”
My mother waved her hand as if to say ‘get on with it,’ and red wine sloshed over the rim of the glass, leaving a dark red stain on the white carpet. Her boyfriend would freak when he got home and saw that.
One thing I could say about my mother, she definitely had a type.
“Who’s my real father?” I asked.
The silence that followed was filled with suspenseful music that only added to my tension as I waited.
And waited.
Finally, I moved closer so I could see her eyes and the rest of her frozen face.
She glared up at me. “Who told?”
“Does it matter?” I shot back.
Her sigh said no, and then she finally moved, sitting up and splashing even more red liquid. “Does your father know that you know?” She didn’t give me a chance to answer. “Don’t tell him. He’ll stop the payments.”
Of course that was her first concern. If she noticed the red eyes or the bruises on my cheek and neck, she didn’t mention them.
All the better, really. I wasn’t in a chatty mood. “I won’t tell.”
She nodded, finally setting down the wine glass and then looking up at me with arched brows that cracked the mold of her mask. “What did you want to know? Who the real father is?”