Page 115 of Serpentine
I look at Dad, who’s cracking his knuckles absently. “Still alive, sure. But he can’t hurt you anymore, Sue.”
The way he says her name twists something in my gut.
“So, what, you two have just kept in contact all these years? Are you still paying her? How did the cops not see through your ruse and take her right back home?” I have many, many more questions, but those are all I can manage at the moment.
Susan lets out a shaky breath.
“It’s complicated,” Dad finally says.
Tension builds in the space, and as I look between them, it’s obvious what that tension is. I gasp and cover my mouth, standing up and backing towards the door.
“Aella, let us explain,” Susan says, but I keep my eyes locked on my dad.
“Please tell me she’s not been missing all these years because she ran away with you!” Tears pull to my eyes like a tide does to a shore with the moon’s tug. “Please tell me while those boys suffered, you weren’t having the time of your fucking life.” This time, my words have a sharp edge, and Susan winces when they cut her.
“It’s not what you think…” Susan’s voice vibrates with the same pain my chest is swarming with. Pain for all the nights they cried themselves to sleep, thinking her dead. For every life event she missed—ones where they suffered alone.
I turn for the door, and Dad shouts, “He was going to fucking kill her, Aella. What was I supposed to do? If she stayed there, she would’ve died!”
I pause, not turning around but not making a move to leave.
He goes on after a sharp breath, “When she came to me and asked for help, she was battered beyond belief. One eye was swollen, the other bloodshot. Half the bones in her face were broken or on their way to healing. I couldn’t let her go back. I couldn’t stand myself if I let her go back.”
A sob chokes in my throat, and nausea wells behind it as images of a beaten-down Susan play in my mind. I turn back, looking at her as she breaks and tears roll down her cheeks. When she turns, eyes raking over her savior, I realize her admiration for my father.
I can’t help but see him in a different light until I think of my men. My broken-hearted men who’ve been searching and scouring the world for her. For what they lost.
Here she is.
“You left them with him?” I ask.
She bites her lip. “He never touched them—only me. I was the one who set him off. Never them. They were safe.”
I don’t know that she’s wrong. I’ve never pushed them to talk about their dad. His taking in Braxton and building the Cobras to look for Susan had me thinking he was a fantastic man. It had me wearing rose-colored glasses.
I want to run home and pepper them with questions, but I don’t know how to do this. How do I break this news to them, and why should I be the one to do it?
“I’m not doing your dirty work.” I glare at Susan, straightening my back out as I double down. “You will tell them you’re alive. Not me. You can’t put this on me.” Even though my tone isn’t pleading, I know my eyes are.
“I don’t want you to,” Susan says, hesitantly standing and stepping towards me.
“Then, why? Why tell me now?”
“You were just going to keep aiding them. It took me a while to realize why you were working for me—I’ll give you that much—but once I saw you by his bedside in that hospital, it all clicked. I knew you were trying to help them find her. While James is alive, that can’t happen.”
The shock of my father’s words slam through my chest. “You want me to lie to them?”
Susan stops before me, her motherly presence washing over me and filling me with a sense of false calm as she grabs my hands. Her eyes are steady on mine. “No, sweetheart, we want you to keep it to yourself. Don’t lie, but…omit.”
“A lie of omission is still a fucking lie.” I tug my hands out of hers.
“If James gets wind she’s still alive, we don’t know what he’ll do, Aella. I’m a powerful man, but he’s a vicious one. One I don’t want to cross.”
While I understand his stance, I don’t back it. Now, even though I don’t want to be the one to tell them, I feel it’s my duty. Yet, to say anything to them betrays my only remaining family.
“I won’t lie to them.” It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to say. But I love them; I know I do. I love them more than I’ve ever loved anything or anyone in my life. They love me. I won’t lie to them and become a sore point in their lives, not over this. It’s too big.
Susan backs away, sobbing. Her knees nearly buckle, and my father rounds his desk to pull her into his body. The moment is more profound than a boss hiding away his battered employee. It’s much deeper than… My brain wakes up and sees them for what they are, and I nearly rage.