“Your father was some rich kid your mother went to high school with. He thought he’d slum it with her for a bit, but when his daddy kicked up a fuss, he dumped her. However, by then she was pregnant, so he gave her money to get rid of you.” She shakes her head and glares “But of course, she didn’t. Samuel didn’t find out until you were almost seven years old.”
That was around the time when things began to change. My parents were never truly happy together, but I always wondered what had happened to make them change so much. Apparently, it was me.
“How?” I ask.
“How what?”
“How did they find out?”
“The boy came home after graduating from college. He ran into your mother and you at the store, and he knew what she had done. He showed up at the house, demanding to see you, but your mother refused.”
“If he came from a family with money, why didn’t he fight for me?” All those years of abuse, and I have another parent outthere who could have taken me? An intense ache spreads in my chest. Why would he have left me withthem?
“He’s dead.”
Whipping my head back up, I focus my eyes on her. “What do you mean,dead?”
Shrugging like it’s no big deal that she’s destroying my world, she continues, “Car accident. Seems someone’s brakes didn’t work quite as well as they thought they would. Your father came to me, and didn’t know what to do, so I took care of it for him.”
Ice flows through my veins as I try to piece together what she’s saying. The bastard who raised and abused me wasn’t even my real father, and Bea killed the man who actually contributed to my existence? No, I refuse to believe it.
“That’s some bedtime story, Bea. Too bad you’re full of shit.” I’m not falling for her mind games. There’s no way it’s true.
Shaking her head in mock sadness, she grabs a paper from a nearby box and tosses it on the floor in front of me. Standing smugly, she watches as I grab the paper and scan its title. “Local Family Dies in Accident.” I skim an article about how a man named Henry Snider was traveling with his parents when the brakes on his car failed, causing them to crash. Due to the speed he was traveling, he and a passenger died on impact, while the other passed away in the hospital a few days later.
Looking at Bea, I can’t disguise the shock I know she sees on my face. “What did you do, Bea?”
“What I had to do. He was going to take you away to a better life, and after what your mother pulled, you didn’t deserve that. I wanted to see her suffer, and if her bastard child suffered along with her, that was a bonus. Samuel lost his way after her betrayal, and I blame your mother and her whoring. She was going to live with the choices she made.”
Staring at Bea incredulously, I will myself not to cry. I had an entire family, and she murdered them out of spite? Anger and devastation flow through me. I’ll never know ifmy actual father would have accepted me. From the way Bea talks, he was interested in having a relationship with me. Someone actuallywantedme.
Instead of just letting me go, she murdered the man and his family. I could have had a stable life or at least someone who gave a shit about me. My parents might have split up, or perhaps they would have stayed together and had Noah anyway, but I wouldn’t have been there to take him. The thought of not ever knowing him, or worse— him being in the car the night they died—sends shivers down my spine.
Shaking my head, I turn my gaze to hers. There’s no point in focusing on the past or what I’ve lost, even though it hurts. Instead, I channel my anger in the glare I give her. How many lives has she ruined? How many did my mother ruin?
I try to stand up, but there’s not enough slack in the chain, so I settle for tilting my head up as high as I can. “It’s pretty fitting then, isn’t it, Bea?”
“What is?” she asks, standing from her seat. She thinks she’s won something, but she’s dead wrong.
“Your bastard son dying in the same way you killed my actual father.” I smile.Fuck her and her shit.
Bea’s face turns thunderous, and I brace for the hit I know is coming. As her cane swings toward my head and I feel pain ricochet through my skull, the only thing I can think as I lose consciousness again is that it was worth it.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Atlas
Staring at the door, I weigh my options. On one hand, I need to know where my Firefly is, but on the other, I’m slightly afraid of the girl behind the counter, who is already glaring at me.
Mara is talking to one of her employees and ignores my approach. She knows why I’m here. Cora blocked me and refuses to talk to me, so this is the way it has to be.
“Get out,” she orders without even looking.
“I’m not leaving.”
“Suit yourself, but I’m not helping you.” She turns and walks to the back.Damn it.
Following behind her, I ignore the protests of the employee and push my way into the kitchen. When I enter, I find her sitting on a stool behind one of the counters, putting cupcakes into boxes.
