“The details are important.” I’m veering off topic on purpose. I know avoidance shouldn’t be a tool in anyone’s kit, but I’m grasping at straws.
“We know your last name used to be Bartlett,” Hunter states plain and simple.
“Oh.” Blinking, my arms drop to my sides.
They’ve laid the truth out there, addressing the elephant in the room. It follows me everywhere, and I do my best to forgetit because when people become aware of its presence, I’m no longer welcome.
“We know your dad is John the Baptist,” Luke clarifies.
“I figured that’s what you meant.” My shoulders sag as I stare down. I’d rather maintain eye contact with a table than read the disgust on their faces. “How long?”
“Since your first day,” Rory answers my pathetic question.
I didn’t expect the answer to sting, but it does. I feel like a fool. My identity can never remain a secret. Then another thought occurs to me. “And I’m not being fired?”
“No, you’re not fired,” Hunter confirms.
Taking a moment, I let my gaze link with each of theirs. “Then what’s the point in telling me you know?”
Hunter takes a step forward. “You need to know you’re not alone in this, Heartbreaker.”
Shaking my head, I brush away the sentiment. “You all barely know me.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t be there for you.” Rory tips his head to the side.
“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what it means,” I argue.
Luke storms to my side, grasping my hands in his. “Why is it so hard to believe that we want to help?”
How can I expect him to understand? How can any of them?
No one makes it through this life without experiencing rejection in one way or another. But how many can comprehend rejection on such a level as I have experienced?
Tears line my lower lashes, and I rip my hands away, backing up as words I’ve never spoken aloud are let free. “Because who wants to help the daughter of one of the most notorious serial killers of New York? Who wants to be friends with someone whose dad committed unspeakable acts? Who wants to date the spawn of evil incarnate? My father raped, mutilated, andmurdered twenty-four women because he believed they needed to be ‘cleansed.’ Who would want me?”
My breaths are uneven, and my hands shake at my sides.
I can’t believe I just said all of that out loud, exposing my deepest fears and insecurities. I let all of my pain out in the open for them to judge.
With measured strides, Rory closes the distance between us. He leans, pressing our foreheads together, and cups my cheeks with his large hands. “Us.”
My head shakes side to side in his hands, denying the sincerity of his claim. Rory stands up straight and wipes my tears with his thumbs.
“You are not your father.” Hunter’s tone leaves no room for argument.
If only they knew.
I don’t bother arguing because that’ll reveal too much. I don’t want them to know the effect of my father’s DNA. His madness runs through my veins.
Rory drops his hands from my face, and I rub my eyes.
“How can we help?” Luke asks.
I’m so tired of being alone. I can only stand strong on my own for so long. Every fiber of my being is exhausted. I could sleep for the next century, and it wouldn’t be enough.
If I want that relief, I need to lean on someone. I need to try.
As my shoulders sag, I release a heavy breath. “I’m assuming you’ve heard about the copycat murders recently?”
