“I met Richard in college. University of Arkansas. We fell in love and got married. Couldn’t have children of our own, so we became foster parents and then adopted Frankie. After the adoption was final, we moved to Pennsylvania for Richard’s work.”
She didn’t look me in the eye; she moved her fork around her plate without really eating much.
“Does Frankie know?” I asked, my voice filled with emotion I hoped she couldn’t hear.
“That she is adopted?” I nodded, and so did she. “I’ve never kept that from her. We became her foster parents when she was two. And a year later we adopted her.”
“And your ex-husband?” I asked, dropping my hands under the table so she couldn’t see my white knuckles from how hard I clenched them into fists. She looked up with a question inher eyes. “I assume they ran a background check and nothing flagged?”
“No, I didn’t even see it, and I’d been with him for years.” Her voice was soft; I recognized the look on her face. She blamed herself for whatever he did. The same way I blamed myself.
“What did he do?” I worked hard to keep my voice calm and even, but the look on her face, the way she set her fork down and leaned back, told me she hadn’t missed a thing. “Frankie told me he tried to kill you.”
She closed her eyes and sighed. “I keep hoping those memories will fade.” She looked over at Frankie and her friend. They were laughing together as if they’d known each other their whole lives. “I came home from grocery shopping and found Richard touching her.”
My heart stopped.
The red haze crawled in from the corner of my eyes. I closed my eyes, trying to stop the rage that was building as Kat opened up and told me the rest.
“At first, I thought I was misinterpreting what I was seeing. But once the shock wore off, I launched myself at him.” She released a sad chuckle. “I was no match for him. He was big. Not as big as you or Zero, but big enough to overpower me. Frankie wasn’t quite five, but when Richard started hitting me, she ran to the neighbor who called the police. I pressed charges and told them exactly what I found.”
“What happened?” I asked, my eyes boring into hers. I couldn’t be sure what she saw, but her eyes widened and she continued.
“He was tried for domestic violence, risk of injury to a minor, and sexual assault of a minor. I divorced him while he was in prison, had his parental rights terminated, and left the state.”
“And now? Is he still in prison?”
“No. He only served three years. My best friend defended him. Convinced the jury that what I saw was my own trauma from my childhood. He was found guilty of two counts, but not guilty on the sexual assault. When he got out, he married her.”
Her eyes had been on her hands twisting in her lap until then. She looked up at me and said, “Stacy has three girls; the oldest one is two years older than Frankie.”
Frankie waved to me over Kat’s shoulder and I smiled. It hurt so fucking much to smile at my daughter knowing it was my fucking fault she went through what she did. She’d never forgive me if she found out who I was.
I should have protected her.
I thought I was.
Instead, I’d sent her into the lion’s den. I’d walked away from my daughter with an ego the size of Texas. My self-righteous attitude had led me to believe she was better off without me, that a family with a mom and a dad was better. Never once had I imagined I would be sending her to a home where she would be hurt worse.
When Frankie told me he’d gone to jail for hurting them, I assumed he’d hit them both. What he did to my little girl was so much fucking worse.
“Does she remember?” I asked. “What he did? Does she remember what he did?”
Kat had tears running down her cheeks. “She remembers. She doesn’t talk about it, but she saw a therapist who said it shouldn’t have lasting effects because she was so young. But I don’t know how long he had been doing it.”
I slammed my fist on the table, and the whole room looked our way. I pulled out my wallet and threw some money on the table, enough to cover our dinner and Frankie’s and her friend’s.
“I need to go.”
She didn’t say a word. Never once begged me to stay, and when I stood up and saw the way Frankie looked at me, her eyes going to her mother, I knew I had been right all along. They were better off without me.
I stormed out of the diner, marching to my truck. I slammed the door of my truck shut and banged my fists on the steering wheel, letting the tears I had been holding back fall.
Looking up through the windshield, Frankie’s eyes stared back at me, filled with hurt. Kat stood beside Frankie, her arm around her shoulder. With a deep inhale, I threw the truck in reverse and backed out.
My mind whirled as I considered my choices. I should have called Haizley. I should have gone to her house and banged on the door so she could talk me down, but I didn’t want to be talked down.
So instead, I drove to the clubhouse, and the prospect opened the gate. Sam and Jack were still out. When I walked in the house, ignoring Mimic and Indie, taking the steps two at a time, I hastily packed a bag and went back to my truck.
