Page 89 of Liar
Damion waits for me to look him in the eye with questioning wariness. I can’t resist. To hear the truth while surrounded by deception…
Malcolm releases a keening wail. My hands spasm against the scruff on his cheeks. “I wanted to avoid this. I did everything in my power to shield you, sweetheart. I’d gladly take death over you knowing the truth.”
I glance between them, my brows twisting, aching, with uncertainty. Malcolm’s pain nestles in my stomach, making me sick, but Damion’s information slithers into my head, growing like cancer in my brain.
“What could be so bad that you’d want to die for it?” I finally ask him. “It’s okay if she was a prostitute. It’s—I have a mother, remember. I’d never judge you for that, especially after knowing this world and the Societies’ outdated traditions…”
“I ordered it,” Damion cuts in. “Another challenge attempted and lost. Malcolm’s punishment was to submit to sex. Doesn’t sound too awful, does it?” Damion chuckles, and it’s then I figure out a prostitute is the nicest part of the story. As a last ditch attempt, I glance at Thorne to see if he knows what Damion’s referring to. He remains expressionless, but his eyes are intense on his father. Savannah catches me and grins.
Damion continues, “It was around the time he met dear Julia at college. You were so happy then, weren’t you, old boy?”
Malcolm’s head sags. “You stole everything. You couldn’t even let me have her.”
“Everything that was taken from you, you allowed. You could’ve kept her, had you succeeded in your Noble challenges. But, as a silver lining, your rape created Ember.”
My spine fuses into a rod. My heart jolts with the sudden, sickening electricity. “Malcolm, what is he … what is he talking about?”
Malcolm stares at me with heartbreaking clarity. “I never wanted you to know, sweetheart…”
“He was tied down in this very room, child,” Damion says. “A ceremony of sorts. Three women were ordered to get him hard, to have every sexual encounter possible with him. Toys. Whips. Plenty of pussy. They’d fuck him, then stroke him and fuck him again. And again. It’s the trait of male dominance, isn’t it, that even when his mind doesn’t want it, the body will respond. Of course, I made Julia watch. She sat much where you are now while Malcolm was incessantly and strategically violated until there was simply nothing of him left. Or her, for that matter.”
My lips part. No words follow. My tongue is so swollen it’s blocking my throat. Horror threatens to spill acid into my throat with no space to release it.
“You’d become too independent from the Societies, old friend. Were making a life for yourself outside of our rule and edicts. I couldn’t let that stand, not as the new king. Our members must understand how crucial it is to remain loyal, marry within the Society, and continue on to create true-blooded heirs for all we have to offer. You were about to ruin your path to a viscount, and for what? A common pussy? Being put in your place was the nicest thing I could do for you.”
“You—” I rasp, “You disgusting pig, you are the worst kind of evil, and anyone who follows you or believes a single word out of your mouth is as vile as you are—”
“Did I not make clear how much I loathe interruption?” Damion spits. Up until now, his voice was flat with a bit of joyous inflection. The swing from that to wrath stiffens me further, but I stay where I am, on my knees and holding Malcolm. Malcolm, who won’t look at me anymore.
“You’re certainly making clear your hellion heritage.” Damion takes a breath, straightens his lapels under his cloak, then continues. “I haven’t even gotten to the finale. Julia is mine now because if I couldn’t have her, I made clear to both she and Malcolm that she would undergo the same cleansing ritual Malcolm did.”
“Say what it is,” I spit. “Rape.”
I spend one last moment on the ground with Malcolm, though my stomach roils with the truth of where I come from, how I came to be…
After kissing Malcolm on his damp cheek, then squeezing his slumped shoulders, I rise, facing Damion on my feet.
Damion’s lips part with a smile as he watches. “Now, here is the real punishment for you. I’m well aware of your feelings for my son and his multiple wasted opportunities to tame you the way I did Malcolm. As with everything, I have to do it for him.”
“Father,” Thorne says.
My hands clench into fists. I won’t turn around. I can’t give Thorne the satisfaction of seeing the utter confusion and hurt on my face. He’s like his father. He sustains himself on conflict and grief. If I’m honest, I don’t want to read whatever is on his. Protective? Panicked? Aloof?
“My son has known of your conception from the very beginning. He kept the truth from you.”
Now, I spin to face Thorne, my voice rough with emotion. “You knew?”
“It’s more complicated than that. There was never a right time.” His eyes finally take on the warmth I’ve been fantasizing about.
Too late.
“How could you?” I whisper brokenly. “How could you do this to me?”
Damion interjects, “In Malcolm’s defense, the woman was never supposed to become pregnant. A few weeks later, she came to me and told me she was with child, demanding money for an abortion. I had a better plan in mind. Housing her until I could have the child, then selling the baby to a family I could monitor until the time was right to inform Malcolm of the unwanted child and bring you into the fold. The final gavel, if you will. The fact that Malcolm covertly joined the FBI in their attempts to thwart me was an annoyance, but as you can see, properly dealt with. I suggest you take this information home with you, Ember, and chew on it. This is the legacy you’re fighting for, the man you want to stop the torture of—a man who never wanted you. When he looks at you, he sees his trauma. You remind him of the worst moment of his life. You are the worst part of him.”
My face spasms with agony as his words hit true.
“No.” Malcolm grunts, shifting on his knees. “Not anymore, Ember. I swear to you. At first—at first, yes. I was sick over the thought of a child being out there, one who … one who I couldn’t fathom existed. But then I met you. You are wonderful, intelligent, beautiful, and nothing like your circumstances. I need you to believe me, sweetheart. You’ve become my soul where I thought I had none.”