His throat bobs. “She used to sneak onto my family’s property in unseelie form. She left because…because I treated her like a pet.”
Understanding crushes my chest. “Your mother was your animal friend. The fennec fox.” It makes sense now. Fennecs are desert creatures, and I imagine most fae ones are native to the Fire Court, where the dunes are located.
“My family’s reputation is built on lies. A lie Father made me bargain never to reveal, threatening me with how badly my little sister would suffer if this all came out. And he’s right. If the public finds out my father had an affair with a fae, that he kept his son’s fae lineage a secret and passed himself off as a man with perfect human values, the Phillips family will be ruined.”
I frown. “This shouldn’t be your secret to bear. It’s his. And if it gets out, he only has himself to blame.”
“That may be so, but he won’t be the only one to suffer. My sister will. Even Mother—Angela’s mother—will be hurt by it. Father is our court’s Human Representative. He’s supposed to represent the pinnacle of human propriety. If they found out he birthed a bastard and hid the truth, the Phillips name would be tainted.”
“Those are his actions, not yours. I understand you want to protect Angela from such awful repercussions, but you don’t need to bear that responsibility.”
“I do though,” he says, pushing off the wall and straightening. “I’m to blame for the position I’m in. Me. I made the idiotic mistake of taking out a loan that deals in secrets. I thought I’d have a choice of what secret to share, but I should have known better. Angela deserves to be heir. She can reshape our family name under her guidance. I want that future for her, as the head of all of Father’s business dealings. She’s already thriving in that role. If this secret gets out, it will be my fault. Her future will be ruined because of me.”
Irritation ripples through me. I understand his reasoning, yet it still enrages me. “Does your father know about the loan? Surely he’d pay it if he knew.”
He gives a mirthless laugh. “Oh, he’d pay it. Then he’d use it as leverage to bring me back into the family.”
I furrow my brow. “Then refuse.”
His mouth falls open, eyes locked on mine. There’s something like terror etched on his face, but I don’t understand the source. “It’s not as simple as that,” he whispers.
“How is it not simple? He’s already disinherited you. You’re bound to a bargain never to tell a soul his secret and never to marry, but you don’t have to obey him in any other aspect of your life. Offer him the chance to save himself by paying off your loan, and then cut ties with him onyourterms, not his. Let him clean up his own mess.”
The terror in his face grows. “But Angela?—”
“You can still see Angela even if you refuse contact with your father. When he asks to speak with you, you can say no.” Protective anger flares when I remember how Lord Phillips demanded a word with Monty at the train station, and how Monty obeyed. He put on a flippant act, but he obeyed nonetheless. How does Monty not see how much he caters to a man he professes to hate? Why didn’t he leave the family of his own accord, instead of waiting until he’d vexed his father enough to convince him to disinherit him? Why agree to a bargain that he’d return to the family if he ever married?
Could it be…
Could he want to keep their bond intact, even as toxic as it is? Is he somehow afraid to lose his father completely? He pushed him away just enough without severing the relationship entirely. And Lord Phillips isn’t the only one he’s done that with. He did the same with his first love, Cosette, carrying on a sexual relationship when he could have refused.
Why is he afraid to lose the people who’ve hurt him?
Monty’s expression turns hard. “I can’t explain it to you, and you already know more than you should. You should go back to your date.”
I prop my hands on my hips and burn him with a glare. “I didn’t want to go on that date in the first place. I came to where I wanted to be.”
He rolls his eyes. “I told you not to chase after uninterested parties.”
“Am I chasing you, Monty? Or am I simply giving a shit about my friend? Whether you have romantic feelings for me or not, wearefriends, and I’m not going to let you push me away. I want to care about you. As for your interest or lack thereof, you haven’t stated a damn word to convince me one way or another.”
“That’s not what I taught you. There’s no lesson in my book about getting verbal confirmation about whether someone likes you. You’re supposed to assess, judge, and react?—”
“I don’t care what you taught me. Maybe you think a lady should sit back and wait for a suitor to prove himself to her, and I understand the value in not fawning over lovers who won’t give you what you need. But this isn’t about your case study. This is about you and me. And you can do fucking better than that pathetic subtle rejection in the cab. If you don’t want me in a romantic way, say so. If you want to stay platonic friends, say so, but then treat me like a true friend. Don’t push me away. Don’t make decisions for me. Don’t be an asshole.”
He opens and closes his palms, his expression flashing between his icy mask and the vulnerability beneath it. The latter wins out, and he averts his face. “Why would you expect me to do better after everything I’ve told you about myself? I told you about my dangerous lifestyle. My crippling debt. I told you what I did to Cosette, how I used her?—”
“Don’t you dare bring her up as an excuse. You’ve learned from your mistake. You feel guilty for how you treated her, and I haven’t seen you treat anyone else that way, aside from the occasional flirtatious jest.”
“Even when we were together, I didn’t treat her well enough. That’s why she left me for someone else.”
I step in closer, leaning into his line of sight. “Cosette was an asshole, Monty. It was her choice to leave you. Whether you believe you deserved it or not, her rejection blindsided you. It hurt you.”
He swivels his face to mine, leaning close and speaks through his teeth. “Yes, she hurt me, but I hurt her right back. Because that’s what I do. I hurt people. Whether it’s through the silence of keeping my secrets or simply because I’m cruel, I hurt them. And I…” His expression crumples. “I’ll hurt you, Daph. I’ll hurt you and I can’t fucking bear that.”
The pain in his voice spears my heart. I lift a hand and rest it on the side of his face, keeping his eyes locked on mine. “Monty, don’t you see what you’ve done? You’ve already hurt me by tryingnotto hurt me.”
He gives a subtle shake of his head, but he doesn’t pull away from my hand. “I’ll hurt you worse.”
