Prologue
Brad
Present Day…
Prison is hell.
I gave up my right to go to a white-collar crime facility so that my accessories could walk. They’d worked hard for me, and they were young. They didn’t deserve incarceration. It was the least I could do.
I always knew I’d end up in prison. My money could only buy freedom until my reasons for hiding ran out.
Once they did, I was ready to go.
Ready to answer for the life I’d led.
Ready to pay.
Yeah, prison is hell.
Not because of the constant inmate fighting. I may be in my sixties, but after a lifetime of watching my back, defending myself, and protecting those I love, I can fend off even the worst of them.
Not because of the disgusting slop masquerading as our meals. I’m used to fine dining, but what is food other than fuel for a body? I can change my thinking, imagine a Steel rib eye in place of the glop they call beef stew.
Not because of the asshole guards. They all know who I am, know I have access to wads of cash. They pretty much leave me alone.
The real hell is the time.
All the fucking time in the world with nothing to do but think.
Think about the life I chose, the roads I traveled, the choices I made. The mistakes—and what they’d cost me.
I chose to fund the Future Lawmakers…and the money they made was used for unthinkable activities.
I chose to marry Daphne…and though I loved her and love her still, my choice harmed so many.
I chose to sleep with Wendy…and though I had my reasons at the time, things between Daphne and me were never the same.
I chose to raise Wendy’s child as mine and Daphne’s, telling no one the truth…and my youngest son will never forgive me.
I chose to leave my children…and though my reason was noble—to protect their mother—they felt abandoned.
I chose to fake my own death—not once but twice—and though my children forgave me the first time, they’ll never forgive me now.
I chose to protect my wife and children at all costs…and now I’m paying the ultimate price.
Time is a formidable enemy. Time to think of the chaos I’d caused.
Time to imagine how everyone’s lives may have been had I acted differently.
Time to create every viable scenario in my mind.
Could I have prevented Wendy’s obsession with me?
Daphne’s madness?
Talon’s abduction?
What could I have done differently?
Hindsight is twenty-twenty.
But what could I have changed? The outcome might have been far worse had I acted differently.
The past is mine to live with, as it is for my wife and my children.
At least Daphne is safe. All the threats to her have been eliminated, and her children will care for her. She will live out her days comfortably, with her doll for company, in the world she created because she couldn’t exist in the world I gave her.
And I wanted to give her so much! Daphne was fragile, more fragile than I knew when we met and made Jonah. And I loved her. I loved her nearly from the beginning, and I love her still. She was and is my soul mate. If only I could have been worthy of her. I watched my own mother’s abuse by my father, stopped it when I was large and strong enough, but still she suffered the effects. I wanted so much more for Daphne, for our family.
And my children…
Jonah, Talon, Ryan, Marjorie.
They’ve all found happiness, and I’m the grandfather of five so far with another on the way.
I can’t ask for anything more. I don’t deserve to find joy in my children or grandchildren because I denied Daphne the joy in hers. In ours.
Happiness was never in the cards for me. Yes, I had moments here and there—Daphne’s smile, the births of my children, teaching my sons how to work the ranch, my baby girl looking up at me with those big brown eyes and demanding I teach her everything I taught her brothers.
But each moment was only a tiny oasis in the hurricane I constantly sought shelter from.
The hurricane has finally turned to nothing but a cool breeze, but it left so much damage in its wake.
Life was forever altered for each of my children.
My children who, though they bear no responsibility, have suffered endlessly for my sins.
My children.
My life.
I’d been furloughed for Marjorie’s wedding, and she’d allowed me to walk her down the aisle when she married Bryce Simpson, but she hadn’t forgiven me. She made that clear after the ceremony.
I wanted to give you this, Dad. I wanted to let you walk your only daughter down the aisle. I selfishly wanted it for myself, too. But I’m not ready to let this go yet. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.
Her brothers were harsher, especially Ryan. I don’t blame him. I lied to him from his birth about his true parentage—only one of my many sins against my children.
Time.
Just time.
Time to ponder.
Time to ruminate.
Time to relive.
Time to self-loathe.
But never enough time for what I want most in the world.
Redemption.
Chapter One
Daphne
Forty years earlier…
I had the dream last night.
Two months had gone by since the last time, and I’d allowed myself to think I was better.
My heart beat like a bass drum against my sternum.
You’re just nervous about leaving home, Daphne. College will be fun. The best time of your life. No reason to be scared. No reason. No reason. No reason.
A knock on my bedroom door, and then my mother’s voice.
“Wake up, sleepyhead!” She cracked the door, peeking in. “Breakfast is ready. We need to leave soon. Are you all packed?”
“Yeah,” I said softly.
She opened the door and walked in, her forehead wrinkled. “You okay?”
I nodded. She worried so much. Between my half brother, Larry, and me, my parents had more than most to handle.
I hardly knew my half brother. He was three years older than I was, and he lived with his mother—Lisa, my father’s first wife. I’d never met her. Larry was almost done with college and planned to go to law school. He’d mastered his demons, apparently—those things that had sent him into therapy at a young age and seen him through countless arrests as a teenager.
Now if only I could master mine.
The dream. The damned dream.
I couldn’t tell my mother. She’d freak out, worry herself sick. My beautiful mother had permanent bags under her eyes thanks to me, and I wasn’t about to add to them today.
No, today I was leaving her.
She deserved to live in peace.
My dorm room was small but cozy. My roommate, Patty, hadn’t arrived yet. We hadn’t communicated at all. I just got a postcard in the mail from the university telling me her name and that she was from Iowa. I’d lived in Denver all my life and was going to college in Denver as well.
I couldn’t go far away from home, not after what I’d been through. I needed a safety net.
“I’ll help you make your bed up,” my mother said.