When dinner was done, they all left to drink coffee and eat the cake Mama bought from the bakery on fifth street in the formal sitting room. I opted to wash dishes instead of stroke Mr. Taylor’s ego. When I finally finished cleaning up, I wiped my hands on the dishrag and headed in the opposite direction, towards the stairs. I was done visiting for the night. I just wanted to crawl in my bed and attempt to sleep. I was half tempted to call Luis and Bonham again to have another sleepover, but that would mean going back on my word to not put up with their shit. I spent the week following their rules but keeping them at a distance, feeling that familiar pang of loneliness, but ignoring it. Sometimes a girl had to cling to her pride.
I was thinking about Mr. Taylor’s vicious stare as I passed the hall, but I stopped in my tracks when I heard voices. I tucked myself close to the wall and peeked through the crack in the nearly closed door. The lights were off in my daddy’s office, but I could see two silhouettes from the moonlit window. The voices let me know that it was Godfrey and his daddy inside.
“—and I won’t stand for it.” Mr. Taylor was saying, and I watched as he methodically removed his suit jacket and draped it over the chair, and then started to roll up his shirt sleeves. “Why was Scarlett asking those questions? You been running your mouth, son?”
“No, sir.”
Godfrey’s demeanor was totally different than I’d ever witnessed. Insead of the sure, cocky posture he usually had, his shoulders were slumped and his head was down, making him look defeated as he stood in front of Mr. Taylor. His voice was quiet and respectful, but I could see the way his fists flexed even in the shadows.
“You disappoint me,” Mr. Taylor said.
“I know, sir.”
“You know what else disappoints me?” I could hear the fury in Mr. Taylor’s voice. It made a cold shiver of terror creep down my spine. It was the same way I felt when that O’Banion man had grabbed my arm at the train tracks. “It disappoints me that I just learned from my contact that my own son lied to me and didn’t complete a job.” My breath caught in my chest as Mr. Taylor took a step toward him. “You didn’t destroy that evidence for the Macon Mob job. Johnny Jack himself called me at work. At work, Godfrey! You know I don’t allow that. He let me know in no uncertain terms that if you don’t fix this soon, there’s going to be a reckoning.”
“I—”
“Look at me when I’m speaking to you!” Mr. Taylor snapped.
I saw Godfrey lift his head up, and as soon as he did, Mr. Taylor cocked his arm and sent his fist into Godfrey’s face.
I was so shocked that a gasp escaped me, and my hand flew over my mouth. Godfrey stumbled back, catching himself as his back hit the wall, but Mr. Taylor hit him again, making his neck snap to the side. “You will fix this. You will give that evidence back to Johnny Jack,” he ordered. “We are Taylors, for fucks sake. There’s no room to suddenly grow a conscience. Your hands are stained red, boy. There’s no washing that off. So, do your duty to your family, or I’ll hand you over to Johnny Jack myself.”
My breathing came in quick pants, and pieces to a puzzle I didn’t know that I was missing fell into place. I’d always known that Mr. Taylor was an asshole, but I never knew that he’d been abusive. So many of Godfrey’s traits made sense now. The reason he was so calculating and observant—he’d had to learn to be that way to gauge his daddy’’s moods.
While Godfrey stayed against the wall, Mr. Taylor slowly rolled down his sleeves, seemingly finished with his punishment, as if this was just another day. The fact that he was thought-out enough to have removed his jacket and roll his sleeves up in the first place let me know that this wasn’t a one time thing. This happened on the regular, and Mr. Taylor was a sick son of a bitch. I also had the sickening realization that this was my fault. Godfrey was getting berated and beaten, all because I’d acted like a taunting brat at dinner. Guilt clawed at me.
“Go home and wait there. We’ll talk about this more later. I’ll make your excuses to Mrs. Livingston,” Mr. Taylor said, pulling his jacket back on.
I darted to the bathroom and quietly closed the door before Mr. Taylor could spot me. When I heard footsteps disappear down the hall, I rushed out, hoping to catch Godfrey, but when I checked the room, he was already gone.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The moment I woke up on Sunday morning, I grabbed the keys to Mama’s Bugatti and drove to the Kelly estate. Mama didn’t like me driving around the city much. She said it looked bad. Any respectable family had a driver and tinted windows. But I didn’t really care about the repercussions, I needed to talk to Rogue about what I’d seen last night, even if he was the last person I wanted to talk to right then. I felt bad for my part in upsetting Mr. Taylor, and I could still hear the way his fist had connected with Godfrey’s face. While stopped at a redlight, I looked down at my thighs where the lines from his nails had dug into my skin, warning me to shut the fuck up, but I’d been too self absorbed to stop.
And even though I’d taken my fair share of hits thanks to Godfrey Taylor and the Heirs, it still ate me up inside that he was his daddy’s punching bag. I wanted to fix it. I wanted to protect them. My hand automatically went up to the crown necklace that now hung around my neck. Maybe it was stupid, but a part of me truly felt like I really was their queen, responsible for their wellbeing.
As I descended the long drive covered in leaves and hanging Spanish moss, my breath caught in my chest. Godfrey’s Black Mercedes was parked right there by the large fountain. I wasn’t planning on seeing him so soon, but I was relieved to know that he wasn’t at his house. There was no telling what kind of punishment he would’ve endured there. I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white.
It wasn’t until I was inside the foyer that I realized I hadn’t knocked on the door. I simply walked inside Rogue’s house, like I’d done so many times before. My scuffed boots shuffled along the tile as I called out for them. “Godfrey? Rogue?” But no one answered me. It felt odd just letting myself in, but familiar all the same.
I traveled upstairs and checked Rogue’s room first. My heart and my head couldn’t decide if I wanted to see him or not, but luckily, I didn’t have to question it for long because his room was empty. His king-sized bed with navy bedding was made, as if he hadn’t even slept in it the night before. The bathroom door was open, revealing that he wasn’t there either. I called his name once more, but he didn’t answer. Stephanie’s taunts immediately crossed my mind, and I had to swallow down the emotion-laced bile threatening to spill out of my mouth. Were Godfrey and Rogue there with her right now? The thought churned like acidic rocks in my stomach.
I made my way across the hall to the guest bedroom. I’d spent quite a few nights there. The guys would build pallets on the floor around me so that we could watch scary movies and eat junk food until the sun came up. Rogue’s parents were never home. He’d spent most of his childhood with a nanny, and when he was old enough to not need one, we started spending the night more often. He’d never admit it, but Rogue Kelly didn’t like being alone. Maybe that was why he was keeping Stephanie Palmisano’s bed warm.