How could he do anything else after his father had threatened Jesse, whose only crime had been dating Cain, once-upon-a-time?
Christ, he hated being forced into this position. And while it shouldn’t matter what Drew or the Seavers thought of his decision not to come forward, it did.
“Nobody blames you for not going to the authorities about your father, you know.” Cain turned his head to Drew and found steady, knowing brown eyes watching him. “If it were my mother, or even my father, I don’t know if I’d be able to turn them in.”
Cain grimaced.Yeah.Right.
It was bitterly ironic that Drew thought filial love was what kept him from doing the right thing, but it wouldn’t change anything for Cain to tell them his real motivation - that the senator had the power to destroy the life of an innocent man, one Cain felt responsible for.
And anyway, whyshouldn’teveryone be pissed at him? Cain was pissed at himself.
Sure, Cam and Damon had overheard Jack’s confession, too, and knew what the senator had done. But Damon was widely believed to be dead, like everyone else aboard the Seavers’ plane, and he couldn’t come forward without potentially facing charges. Cam, the grief-stricken son, accusing the senator on his own, with no proof, would be futile at best and downright dangerous at worst. They’d needed Cain to come forward, to get justice for Cam and Bas’s parents and Drew’s sister, to get Damon his life back.
And he simply couldn’t.
He knew for a fact that Cam and Bas were pissed, but Damon... Damon was the one Cainreallydidn’t like to think about, for more than one reason.
Damon was all tall, broad-shouldered, confident grace, complete with flashing hazel eyes and distinctively long, prematurely-gray hair that gleamed like silver silk. Gorgeous and proud, even with the scars and the limp he’d received as souvenirs from the Seavers’ plane crash. He was hot as hell, but there was more than that. Something about the man had called to Cain from their very first meeting. Maybe because Damon had been dealt a shitty hand too. Unlike Cain, though, he’d never backed down. He was still working to clear his name, still proud and determined to see the senator brought to justice.
Damon must hate his guts.
And still, he couldn’t stop himself from asking Drew, “And, um, Damon? What’s he up to?”
Drew shook his head and glanced away, his eyes roaming over the crowd. “I’m not sure. He fell off the fucking map again a couple days ago. He won’t answer Cort’s calls.” His voice hardened. “I don’t understand that guy. Bas wanted to give him money - kind of compensation for the fact that Bas had stirred shit up with the media after the crash and blackened Damon’s name, you know? Not that we accept any responsibility for defaming his character.” Drew’s lawyer-voice was smooth and polished.
“Uh huh.”
“Asshole wouldn’t take it,” Drew continued. “Not for himself anyway, though he did let Bas send a check to that sister of his - remember, the one he’d never known he had until the tabloids dug her up after the crash? He let Cam and Cort harass him into taking a job as an airplane mechanic at Seaver Tech, since he had no other way to get a job. And he moved into his brother’s old apartment, since Cam and Cort are joined at the hip now, and Cort spends most of his time at Cam’s place. Guy seemed happy enough the last few weeks from what Cam’s said. Then, three days ago,poof.He and Cort had barely been able to reconnect, and now he’s fallen off the radar again.”
Cain said nothing, but he was pretty sure he understood exactly where Damon was coming from.
Cam and Sebastian were stand-up guys, but who would want to live on someone else’s sufferance? Who’d want to spend every day walking on eggshells, hoping their benefactor wouldn’t decide that today was the day to take it all away? Who’d want to live under someone else’s thumb?
Cain looked over at his parents, who were still chatting eagerly with Billy Fassbender. They’d been joined by two women, the younger of whom was so pink and shiny, she could only be Bill’s progeny. From this distance, Emmett Shaw looked like a sweet, portly, middle-aged man, whose guiltiest secrets were dying his gray hair blond and eating a few too many Cheetos on football Sundays. Millions of voters had gone to the polls and saidYes. Trustworthy.And every one of them had been wrong.
So, yeah, Cain could understand why Damon would find it hard to trust Sebastian, who’d fucked up his life so well in the first place.
Drew shook his head and clapped Cain on the back. “Gotta get back to my mother. You have my number if you need me for anything?”
Anything, like being ready to confess to all he’d heard? Not gonna happen. But he nodded and smiled his goodbye, then turned back to the bar for another refill. “Double water this time. With ice.”
The reporter, Gary North, was standing just a few feet away, watching him again, and Cain’s heart beat faster. He mentally reviewed his conversation with Drew, trying to imagine what Gary might have overheard, or read on his lips. Nothing like an ill-timed comment to blow the entire charade of your life wide-fucking-open.
To his surprise, Gary stepped forward and offered Cain his hand.
“Mr. Shaw?”
Cain reluctantly extended his hand. Damn his ingrained manners.
The man smiled affably. “Gary North. Reporter forTheHerald?”
Well, he didn’t lie. Cain would give him that much.
“I know who you are. I have no comment,” Cain said firmly, turning away.
To his shock, North laid a hand on his arm, stopping him. “I haven’t asked you for one yet.” He sounded reasonable, and also amused.
“But you will. So let me tell you upfront, I have no comment onanything.”
