Page 112 of Queen Of Clubs
“More like fourteen, fifteen.”
His face turns ashen, and he leans forward, putting his hand to his mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“I have a lot of evidence hidden away if you ever want to see it.”
“Naw, I believe you,” he says. “I don’t think you would make up this stuff for the fuck of it.”
“Do you know how old your mother was when you were born?”
His eyes snap up to mine. “No,” he replies slowly. “I don’t know much other than she had me, left me in the hospital, and killed herself.”
“She was fourteen. Had you when she was fifteen. I found out after doing some digging that your mom was the child of a family friend. She grew up around him, and when she was old enough for his liking, he made his move. Then he paid a pretty penny to keep her mouth shut. Later on, when she told him she was pregnant with you, he paid her even more money to take care of it. If you know what I mean.”
“That sick fucking bastard!” he snarls, jumping to his feet. “She obviously didn’t do it, though.”
“No.” I shake my head, feeling so damn sorry for the kid. “I don’t know much regarding that, but I’d like to believe she loved you. That she wanted to wait until you were born. There are records of her going to get mental health help, a few stays in the psych ward. What he did to her, it messed her up real bad. And when you were safe, she ended her pain.”
Angry tears cloud his eyes. “Why wasn’t he arrested? Why is he still free! He’s a sick fucked up monster.” I’m about to answer when he does it himself. “Right. Money.” He grabs a vase and tosses it against the wall with a roar. “Fuck!”
I wince, flinching a little bit, but I say and do nothing. “Why were you looking into him? What made you want to find all this out?”
I lick my lips and take a deep breath. “One day, I was at his place. This was after my mother and him split. She was still living there, spending his money freely, but always gone on some trip. Anyway, one night, I woke up to go grab a glass of water and a late night snack. When I came down the stairs, I saw my father talking to a few of his friends. They were all dressed nicely, standing by the front door. That's not what got my attention, it was the fact that each of them was overly friendly with the girls that were with them.” My own stomach lurches at the memories I’ve been forced to keep reliving in order to find something to put that monster behind bars.
“They were around sixteen. All in dresses, looking sweet and innocent. Just how he likes them,” I spit. “I waited at the top of the stairs until they disappeared down to the basement. After, I snuck down and listened at the door. I wish I didn’t.”
I look away, closing my eyes as their cries of pain and pleas to stop fill my mind.
“After I understood what was going on, I hid. I was too afraid to do anything else. An hour later, they came upstairs, and all the girls looked empty. Like they lost a part of themselves down there. But our father and his buddies?” My lip curls as pure fury fills me.
“They had these smug looks on their faces like they were so fucking proud of themselves.”
I look over at Zane, and he looks three seconds away from taking off, finding the bastard and killing him. “And you did nothing?”
“What was I going to do!” I shout, hating the look of disdain on his face. “I was twelve. I was only a kid. He was this big, powerful man who was loved and adored throughout all of Hollywood. No one would have believed me. It would only have gotten me killed. But I also didn’t just let it go.”
“What did you do?”
“I’ve spent years slowly collecting evidence. And when I find enough, I plan on ending him.”
“Like... getting him arrested?” he asks, anger still radiating off him.
“Prison would be too kind to him,” I respond in a dangerous tone. “He would use his money and connections to get out. No. I think dear old Dad plans on killing himself, you know? That all the guilt over everything he’s done to all the people he hurt got to him. He couldn’t live with himself anymore. But he wanted the world to know just how fucked up he was and wanted to make sure all his victims and their families were well compensated.”
Zane’s face slowly splits into a devilish grin. “Oh, big brother, you are one diabolical man, aren't you?”
I shrug. “There's a lot you don’t know about me, Zane. But I’d like for that to change, if you're willing.”
“I could be persuaded,” he says, crossing his arms. “But answer me this first. Those assholes who’s asses I kicked, what happened to them?”
“They were taken care of. I know a guy.” I grin. “I know a lot of guys.”
“Fucking hell, Calvin. You scare me, you know that?”
“What's the good of having all this money if I can’t make the world a little bit better?”
“I’m in.” Zane grins. “Whatever it is, I’m in.”
“What about Jade?” I ask. “What would she think?”