Maxwell hangs up and looks at me, his eyes shining. “They found blood,” he says, his tone dripping with grief.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
No, she would have caught herself on something, probably trying to look under the hood when her car broke down.
I look out the window, watching as Sebastian walks Patience toward Dean Griffin’s office, disgust, shame, and fear crawling through my body. How the fuck can this be happening? I’m leaving her to do this alone, without my protection. And Sabella is out there in the dark trying to get home. I’m a shit big brother. I drag my phone out and check for missed calls… but I know that she would have called me if she broke down.
We’ve been driving in silence for ten minutes, just the roar of the Ferrari and my panicked thoughts keeping me from going insane. Maxwell looks distraught, but it’s fake, just like his words earlier. He doesn’t give a shit about me or her, he never has, and I hate him even more for trying that bullshit on.
We’re heading down the interstate toward St. Louis Cathedral when he finally speaks up, cutting through the tension.
“She was supposed to be going shopping,” he mutters. “I don’t understand why she would even be up here.”
I turn to him sharply, my gaze scathing as his meets mine. “You can drop the act now, Maxwell. No one’s here to see your fake tears.”
He frowns at me and shakes his head. “For God’s sakes, it’s not an act, son.”
“Don’t call me son,” I reply coldly, enjoying the look of hurt and shame on his face. “And you’re not fooling anyone. Like I’m supposed to believe you suddenly grew a fucking heart overnight and decided you give a shit about either of us.”
The Ferrari comes to a screeching halt, smoke billowing from the tires as Maxwell slams the breaks. He turns to me, and I lift my chin, my hard gaze meeting his.
“I havealwayscared about you both,” he says calmly, but his white knuckles on the steering wheel betray him. “You’re my children. It just took me a long time to get my head out of my ass and be a father. Too damn long, I know,” he says. “But you, Samuel, you make it so fucking hard to love you.”
His words hang in the air between us like a fog. It takes me a moment to catch my breaths so I can reply.
“Love?” I finally sneer. “You don’t know what love is. Move this fucking car before I get out and walk.”
“I have given you everything. Everything I have! And yet you still hate me. You still throw it all back in my face time and time again.”
I laugh. “Given me? The only thing you’ve ever given me is a black eye and a black heart, now move this fucking car!” I roar.
The day is too bright, the sun glaring down now that the rain and clouds have moved on. It’s giving me a damned headache as it reflects back off the red hood of the Ferrari.
Maxwell slams his fist against the steering wheel and roars in anger. “It was one time, Samuel. One really, really bad fucking time. It wasn’t right—goddamn it, I know it wasn’t. I’ve been ashamed of myself ever since, and I ended things that night. I know I deserve all your anger and hate for that, but I’ve done everything since that night to make it up to you, yet you continually throw it back in my face.” His voice breaks on the final words, and I shake my head at him. “You hate me, I get it. You want out from under me, I get that too. But don’t takeherfrom me.” His words sound strangled and painful—painful enough for me to notice. I scowl at him, enjoying his pain.
Hate and pity bubble to the surface, and I grit my teeth at him. “I won’t be taking anything away from you. She’s going to leave all on her own. Because that’s what you do, Maxwell, you push everyone away. You make people want to leave you. Me, Sabella…Mom.”
The last part is a killer that hurts me to even say. I know it’s a lie—the biggest lie I’ve ever told. It was me who killed her and made her leave us. But it has the desired affect regardless.
His face goes red, and he sucks in a sharp breath. I think he’s going to lash out and hit me, or get out of the car, or yell at the very least, but like a deflating balloon, the color leaves his face and he opens his mouth, a gust of air leaving him as a sob claws up his throat.
“Get out,” he says, his words sticking in his throat. He looks away, unable to bare looking at me. “Get out of my car, Samuel.”
“What’s wrong, Maxwell? Can’t take the truth? I don’t blame you, I’m sure it’s a bitter pill to swallow. Just like when you said it was our fault she died,” I grit out, reaching for the handle. I hadn’t mean to say it out loud, but the words can’t be taken back once they’re out.
“What did you just say?” he says, his voice a whisper.
I look back at him. “I heard you that night with Grandmother. We both did.” He looks confused, and I sneer at him. “It went something like: I can’t even look at them. Every time I do, I feel angry. They’re killers. They killed her.” I blink, watching him as his expression turns to horror. “Yeah, it isn’t nice hearing that, is it? It wasn’t nice to hear as an eight-year-old kid either. Sab cried herself to sleep for a week after that, scared half to death you were going to call the cops and she’d go to prison.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, dragging a hand down his face. “I didn’t mean it. I was so full of grief, even after all that time. I miss your mom so much. She was the love of my life and I couldn’t bear to be without her.”
I shake my head, because I don’t care anymore. I don’t want to have this conversation with him, not now, not ever.
“Just drive,” I say, closing my door.
Maxwell swipes at the tears on his face. “I still love her so much, Samuel,” he says, his voice sounding strangled. “I love her so much, and she was everything to me, and then—”
“Do you think I care?” I yell, feeling like I might explode with rage at any moment. “Just fucking drive, Maxwell. Nothing, absolutely nothing you say, will ever make up for what you’ve done. I can’t forgive you, I fucking can’t!” My own voice breaks as sadness and anger engulf me. I sling open the door and get out, unable to sit there with him for a second longer.
