“Fuck!” I jump up out of my chair and grab my keys off the desk, skipping most of the steps as I leap down them. “Meet me at her dad’s house! I think she’s in trouble.”
27
Savannah
I sit in the big office chair as I wait for my dad to get off the phone. He’s pacing back and forth while a man in a suit watches me from across the table. Daddy looks frustrated. I hate when he’s like this.
“Just put $5,000 on the Broncos,” he says into the phone. “Yes, I’m good for it. I’ll have you the money by tomorrow.” Hanging up, he releases a breath and changes his expression. He comes over and kneels in front of me. “Now Savi, my sweet, sweet, little Savi.” He tucks my hair behind my ear. “You need to tell the nice man what we practiced, okay?”
I frown. “But it’s a lie, and you said it’s bad to lie.”
“I know, baby, but it’s okay just this once, because if you don’t, Daddy is going to need to go away like Mommy did.”
The idea of losing my dad makes my heart hurt. I already have to live the rest of my life without my mom. I don’t want to live without my daddy, too.
I nod, and he steps back behind the camera. The man in the suit smiles at me, but he doesn’t look very nice, so I don’t smile back. He presses a button on the camera and then turns to me.
“Okay, Savannah. I’m just going to ask you a few questions about the night you stayed at your friend Gray’s house, okay?”
Shaking my head, I correct him. “His name is Grayson. Only me and his dad get to call him Gray.”
He chuckles. “I’m sorry, the night you stayed at your friend Grayson’s house. Is that better?”
“Yes.”
Looking down at a notebook in front of him, he reads the next question from the page. “You said in the middle of the night, you woke up and needed a drink, is that right?”
“Mm-hm. I was thirsty so I went downstairs for a glass of milk.”
“And when you went down to get a drink, what did you see?”
I look to my dad, knowing this is the part where I’m supposed to lie. He gives me a reassuring nod, and I recite the answer he told me. “I saw Mr. Hayworth putting money under the floorboard in the den.”
The man in the suit looks back at my dad for a second and they both smile happily. “Did you look in there after he was gone?”
Shaking my head, something about this makes me feel sick to my stomach. “I just saw there was a lot of money in there.”
How could I have been so stupid to never put the pieces together? Less than a year after that interview, Grayson disappeared. My dad wouldn’t tell me where they went, just that they moved away and weren’t coming back.
That asshole knew exactly what he did. He knew the lives he was ruining. His best friend’s. Grayson’s. Mine. The only person he’s ever cared about is himself. Even while he was working to cover his tracks and frame Grayson’s father for a crime he himself committed, he was still making bets with the stolen money.
A part of me hopes that the reason for all the drugs and alcohol in the last seven years was to cope with the guilt of what he did. At least then it would seem like he has some kind of conscience. If he doesn’t feel any remorse for what he’s done, then I’m not sure I ever really knew him at all.
I look up at my house, knowing that monster is inside. All of this comes down to him. Grayson’s father was taken too soon, because of him. Gray has had to grow up without a father, because of him. Mrs. Hayworth has had to raise her son without her husband, because of him. I lost my best friend, because of him. He’s the one who ruined everything, and I’m going to take him down once and for all.
Pressing a button on my phone, I slip it in my pocket and walk through the door. My father is standing in the kitchen. He scoffs when he sees me, and his upper lip raises in disgust.
“Where has your ass been for the last week?”
“At Brady’s.” I try to keep my voice calm.
“Yeah?” He looks me up and down. “Are you sure you haven’t been hanging around that Hayworth kid?”
My eyes narrow. “What if I have?”
“Then you better cut that shit out right now. I don’t want you anywhere near that boy.”
“Why? Because you’re afraid I’ll find out about what you did to his father?” The way the color drains from my dad’s face shows his guilt. “Yeah, I know all about it. How you gambled away all our money. How you stole from the company you spent five years working for. And even how you set your best friend up to take the fall.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he counters, but it’s as weak as he is.
“Oh, come on. Don’t try to be all noble now. Go ahead. Gloat. Getting away with something like that had to make you feel like a badass.”
His stare bores into me, his body tense and motionless. “I did what I had to, and your little ass should be grateful for that.”
“What you had to?” I snap. “You made your best friend take the fall for a crime he didn’t commit! He died in there! Grayson’s dad is dead, and you did that.”
“You’re damn fucking right I did!” he roars, slamming the whiskey bottle down on the counter. “And I’d do it again! I got more money out of that score than I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s not my fault the fragile little shit couldn’t handle himself in prison.”
I can’t believe the words that are coming out of his mouth, but even worse is what’s written on his face. He looks proud—pleased with himself for getting away with millions while his closest friend lost his life. There isn’t the smallest ounce of remorse, and that causes my blood to boil.
“You’re a monster,” I tell him. “A despicable, sad excuse for a man.”
His eyes darken, like the anger in him is starting to bubble to the surface. “You should be worshiping the ground I walk on. The shit I did kept you out of foster care. If I had gone to jail, you would have had no one!”
“I would’ve been better off!”
He laughs dryly and walks around the counter to stand in front of me. “If your mother could see you now—the greedy, unappreciative little bitch you are—she would be appalled.”
“Fuck you!” I hiss. “I’m going to make you pay for what you’ve done. Being as I was unknowingly one of the key pieces of evidence in the case, I’m sure the FBI will love to know how you manipulated a little girl into lying under oath.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, I definitely would.” Turning to leave, I take one step toward the door. “Enjoy your drink. It’s going to be a while before you get to have another.”
Before I can get away, he grabs me by the hair and pulls me back. “Over my dead body.”
His fist plows into my face with brutal force, sending a shooting pain through my jaw. He uses his grip to slam my head into the counter and throws me to the floor. The kick to my stomach is like getting hit by a truck. I try to shield myself, but as he swings his foot into me again, I can feel my wrist snap.