At last Kayla entered the kitchen. She was dressed in different clothes and another pair of shoes, flats this time. Her hair was damp but twisted into a bun. I was sure there was a bandage underneath, but you’d never be able to tell. Bailey came with her, holding her hand. Kayla patted her back. “Go give your daddy and uncle a hug. We’re going to have some grown-up talk while you watch a movie.”
Bailey did as she was told. She looked a little afraid but more stressed than anything. She held on to me long enough that I thought she wasn’t going to let go again. Long enough for fresh waves of guilt to pour over me. She finally released me and walked back to her mom.
She and Kayla left the kitchen. Dustin and I still didn’t speak. Not that I was even sure what to say at this point. After a few minutes, the sound of the television wafted in from the family room.
When Kayla returned, she took her place on the opposite side of the bar, centered between us. She was the only one standing, and it was clear she planned to maintain her new position of power. “Bailey is in the next room watchingThe Little Mermaid. I’m not going to ask her to wait upstairs again. It’s too frightening for her. We are going to keep our voices down and our tempers under control. Is that clear?” She didn’t bother looking at me, but kept her gaze trained on Dustin.
“Yes.” Dustin’s voice cracked. “Kayla, I’m really sorry. I—”
“Save it.” She cut him off. “It was an accident. I don’t need your apology for that. I need it for a billion other things. But this isn’t the time, and I’m not sure I even want it at this point.” She turned toward me. “So what happened? Obviously something for you to come out here like you did. I’ve never seen you like this.”
That made two of us. “I saw Stewart. I found out who did all of this.” I looked toward Dustin. “How the fuck could—”
“Randall!” Kayla reached over, grabbed my forearm, and squeezed it hard. “Bailey. Remember Bailey.”
I met her eyes. I hadn’t even realized I’d started to get loud. “Sorry.” I looked back at Dustin. “Stewart said that you….” I paused at the look of guilt that covered Dustin’s face. Maybe it was still from hurting Kayla. Maybe it wasn’t. Either way, I wanted to hear it from him. See if he would admit it. Make it harder on him. “Well, you know. Tell us.”
Dustin perked up a bit, looking between Kayla and me. His mouth worked, no words coming.
“Randall.” Kayla stared at me. “Dustin? Really? Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
Some of the defiance in her seemed to slip away, sadness crowding in to replace it. She looked back at Dustin. “What did you do?”
When he spoke, Dustin truly sounded defeated. More than I’d ever heard before. Even with Dad. “You know what I did. I found that guy Randall brought to the Fourth of July benefit. Stewart whatever. The guy you said was an escort.”
Kayla gasped, her hand rising to her lips. She shot me a quick glance.
Dustin continued. “I hoped that I could get him to admit that he was a whore and that Randall paid him for sex. Instead he said that it was the other way around. That he was the one who paid Randall. I offered him money to sell his story to the paper.” He glanced at me for a second. “He must really hate you. He said he didn’t want any money. He’s the one that contacted that gossip site. Dirty or whatever.”
“The Dirty.” I had no idea why I felt the need to clarify.
“Right.”
We stared at each other. It was the longest we’d looked in each other’s eyes in years. Maybe ever. “But why, Dustin?”
A little anger seemed to seep back into him. “Are you serious? You really need to ask why?”
“Lower your voice, Dustin.” Kayla sounded like she was on the edge of tears.
He spared her a glance, did what she asked, but his anger was still present. “You turned your back on the family. Did whatever the fuck you felt like doing. All the while I had to jump through every fucking hoop Dad and your bitch of a mom told me to. And the entire time, Dad’s going on about how I’m weak. How I don’t know how to stand up for myself. That my fag brother’s got more spine than me.” The hate was back in his eyes. “So yeah, excuse me for wanting to show him that you were nothing more than a whore. How much spine does it take to lie on your back and get fucked for money?”
Again I wanted to correct him. Make that old distinction that I wasn’t really a whore. But again, who really cared about the distinction? And so what if I was a whore. Or had been. Or whatever. “Dustin, I’m the one who got disinherited. Not you. You’re the one they’re standing behind to help get elected.”
“That just makes it worse. You think that wasn’t thrown in my face every fucking day? That you were strong enough to turn down their money?” He sneered. “And the fucking election. Just one more thing Dad is going to have control over.”
“What?” Kayla gaped at him. “You don’t want to run for office? You never told me that.”
Again he looked broken. Like a little kid. “You think I want to admit to my wife that there’s no limit to what my daddy makes me do? Like I don’t already know how you see me? That you think I’m weak too? At least compared to him.” He thrust his chin toward me. “My own wife and daughter love my brother more than me. Even when he’s proven to be a whore.”
Kayla didn’t answer. At least no more than the tears running down her cheeks spoke for her.
She’d told me I didn’t understand what strain Dustin lived under. She was right. Not that it excused anything. “So is that why you didn’t stop? Because Kayla loves me? Because Bailey loves me? So you had to turn me into a danger to kids. Did you really think Kayla would believe that?”
He glared at me. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
I rolled my eyes and groaned. “Seriously? You’re going to start lying there? Stewart said he never said the stuff about me doing shit with the kids I take pictures of. I believe him. And Sam Travazza said a guy called him and offered money for him to make allegations against me.”
