Bryce
“Was it so wrong of me to ask him to be faithful?” Tad asks.
Tad is a fucking wreck.
He paces the living room in hispenthouse back and forth, his face as red as Kiernan’s gets as he shouts outhis rage at Darren.
I’m disappointed, but consideringmy interaction with him last night, I can’t say it’s totally out of nowhere. Ifanything, I get why he lashed out. He’s felt like such a nobody for so long andthis was his way of taking back a little bit of power and moving himself towardsomething he would rather be doing.
“No. But Tad…”
“Are you going to defend him?” heasks. He stops pacing and turns to me with a look that assures me that it’d bea real shitty idea to defend Darren right now.
“He did a stupid thing, but he’snot a bad guy.”
“Not a bad guy? Are you kiddingme? He’s been selling secrets to the paps. This is a guy I trusted. This is aguy that I let close to me all these fucking years. He’s the reason all thatshit with my mother—”
“He didn’t know the truth,” Iremind him. “He probably thought it’d be some stupid tidbit that would get hima contact, but that wouldn’t actually go anywhere beyond a mention on aninterview or in the news.”
Despite my attempt at givingDarren the benefit of the doubt, I know I won’t be able to help him out of thisone. Tad has every reason to be mad at him, but even though it was a terriblething that he did, I’m not surprised that he did it.
I want to remind Tad that we allmake mistakes, but I know this isn’t the time. Not while he’s caught up in thisdiscovery and is nervous as shit about learning the truth about his mother.
He stops, his hands resting on hiships as he looks at the floor and takes deep, steady breaths.
“Let’s just get through this day.Get through talking to Sandra and deal with this later.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
Fifty-Five
Tad
“Hi, Sandra?”
We stand on the porch of atwo-story home before a woman with bright green eyes and a pale face speckledwith freckles. She glances between us, as though she’s intimidated by how wetower over her.
“Yes?” she asks in a quiet voiceas she runs a finger through her bright red hair.
Tad managed to calm down about theDarren shit on the flight over, and I’m hoping this trip serves to make him feelbetter rather than worse.
“I’m sorry for intruding likethis,” he says. “I’m—”
“I know who you are,” she says.
“I found out you were the womanwho contacted Kira Wilde about my mother, and I was wondering if I could talkto you for a minute about her.”
“Yes,” she says, her voicecracking. She opens the door and heads inside. She doesn’t offer more of aninvitation than that, but it’s evident by the way she leaves the door open thatshe’s allowing us into her home. She guides us into a kitchen. The walls arecovered in paintings with bulky, gold- and silver-leaf frames—a strangecombination.
“Sorry about the mess,” she saysquietly. Although the only things in the kitchen that appear messy are a fewclean dishes piled in the right side of the dish drain
As she reaches a set of Frenchdoors that lead to the back porch, she turns, the skirt of the dark red dressshe wears fanning out slightly around her. She doesn’t look directly at eitherof us.
“It’s been a while since I’ve hadanyone over. And my kids are at school right now. My husband will be homearound six. You’re welcome to stay for dinner if you want.”
“Oh, we don’t want to bother you.”
“It wouldn’t be bothering me,” shesays, making eye contact with me, and I see a familiar expression—the one I seefrom people who are spellbound, not by me, but by my celebrity status. She’s obviouslysurprised to have an NFL player in her house.
