“This room is practically bomb proof. Bernard had it updated a few years ago,” she assures me.
“Well, didBernardput apanicbutton in hispanicroom?” I ask, looking around for something we can use to call for help. “We need to contact Jack.” I keep going over and over in my head who would want to hurt us. Jack said his father had enemies, but surely those enemies wouldn’t come for us, especially now that he’s dead.
“Jack is probably out there doing what he does best and?—”
“With all due respect, Cecelia, Jack is nothing like your husband was.” I tuck myself away when Benjamin falls back to sleep. “I get that you're bitter and twisted about the fact you were cheated on, but Jack isn’t like that.” I refuse to let her get inside my head with her usual shit.
“If you’d let me finish.” She raises her brows at me again. “I was going to say, he’s probably out there being a hero.” Her response throws me off completely. I’ve never heard her say a kind word about him.
“What are you talking about?” Now I’mreallystarting to panic; this has trap written all over it, and I can’t believe I’ve been so blindsided by all the love and emotions I’ve been having to not see this coming.
“Let us out.” I quickly move toward the door. Sensing that I’ve made a huge mistake.
“Absolutely not! You go out there, and you could die,” she growls at me. “Gracie, a person has come into our home with a gun; Jack would never forgive me if I let you leave the safety of this room.”
“And do you really expect me to believe you care what Jack thinks? You hate him. You hate us. What is this, Cecelia? A desperate attempt to get what you think you deserve? Because if it is, you can have it. I don’t need a title or money to be happy, neither does Jack. Call off whatever this is and just let us go,” Ibeg her, looking down at my innocent sleeping boy and hating that I put us in this vulnerable position.
“I’ll tell you what this is. It’s an old,bitterwoman trying to do what's right for a change!” she yells in frustration, before sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, and messing up her perfectly-styled grey hair when she runs her fingers through it.
“I promise you, I don’t know who that person out there is, but unfortunately, I can’t say that the reason they’re here isn’t my fault.” She looks up at me, guilty.
“What are you saying?” I stand over her, desperately needing to know what all this is about so I can try and find a way to get us out of it.
“My husband used to run a club. A club that was–”
“I know about the club,” I interrupt her, shocking and confusing her at the same time.
“Not The Residence.” She shakes her head.
“The stately home in Kent." I prove that I know far more than she realises, hoping it will hurry her to the point.
“How do you?—?
“None of that matters right now, just tell me what you know.”
“The club was exclusive, and it was barbaric.” Her hands tremble as she explains. “I had no idea it existed until after Thomas was born, and I tried so hard to push it to the back of my mind.”
“You knew all that time, and you never did anything about it?” I stare at her in disgust.
“I couldn’t. I’d seen what Bernard did to people who went against him; you only have to look at what he raised Jack to be to know how desperate he was to keep his secrets. I had Thomas to consider.”
“More likeyourreputation, Cecelia; those girls were children.” I think back to how awful it must have been for Polly when she was younger. Being exploited by her own brother.From what Cecelia is telling me, Bernard had been running that God-awful place for decades.
“I know, I know, and I’m sure to go to hell for not speaking up. But I’ve been trying to fix it.” She stands back up, wiping her tears. “I started looking into the old finance records that Bernard kept so guarded. I wanted to figure out who was involved so I knew who I could trust. Last year, I managed to get into one of the safes, and I found some pictures.” She closes her eyes and swallows heavily. “He must have had them to use as blackmail, in case any of his members didn't toe the line.” I see the fear in her face and can only imagine what the photographs were of.
“And…?”
“When it became clear that Jack was going to inherit everything, I knew it had to come to an end. I used the people in those pictures to put together a solid list. I wanted Jack to deal with the men in Jack’s way.”
“You mean you wanted him to kill them?” I hear the quiver in my own voice. “You should have taken that list and those images to the police.”
“And put all their wives and families through hell? Let’s not forget the fact that these men know people who can get them out of anything. I thought my way was far more just…and that their families would be spared the shame of scandal.”
“You put Jack in danger; you know he’s a good person and would want justice for what his father did.”
“Come on, dear, we both know Jack can handle himself. I’ve had to hear Bernard brag about it for years. Let's not pretend he doesn’t enjoy the tasks he gets set. He was the right man for the job.”
“And you think that's where he is now? Out there killing the men on that list?” I’ve barely let myself think about the fact that he killed Jonah. Jack seems too gentle and kind to be a murderer.
