Page 85 of Downfall

Making me think I was like him.

Treating my mother like she was worthless.

Maybe he never pushed her down the stairs, but he was abusive in other ways.

Now he’s the one who’s going to be locked in the dark. Let’s see how he fucking likes it.

I know exactly who gave Skylar that incriminating paperwork, but I can’t deal with that right now. First, we have to figure out what this lawyer wants.

I turn onto the highway, thinking it will get us back to Emberfield faster than the back roads. Skylar is still fidgeting, so I rub my thumb over the back of her hand where our fingers are connected. She gives me a small smile, but it’s not real.

“My stepfather is dying,” she blurts out, covering her mouth with her other hand as if she’s surprised she said it.

“What?” I ask softly. I guess her mother did get remarried. The man in the picture on her mantel. He’s…dying?

“He’s in liver failure and needs a transplant, but he doesn’t have insurance. Neither does my mom. That’s why I need the money from my trust, Declan. I need to pay for it. If there’s something wrong—if the marriage wasn’t really legal or someone found out that we did it to obtain the trust…I just…I really need that money.” She shakes her head, worry pouring out of her.

Her words make my heart ache, but it all makes sense now. I knew there had to be a reason why she wanted that money so badly. Skylar is the least materialistic person I know. She would just as soon have the money donated to charity before keeping any of it for herself. I didn’t even question it because trying to access the trust meant she had to stay married to me. It meant there was a chance I could fix what I had broken.

It was selfish.

I was selfish.

Guilt curls in my gut.

If I had asked her why she needed the money, I could have helped her stepdad weeks ago. Instead, I kept her here, putting her right in the path of my father.

“I’m so sorry, Firefly.” I mean for all of it, but I let her think I’m sorry her stepfather is dying because I need her to calm down. “But we didn’t do it to get the trust, Skylar, and you know that.” I flick my eyes to her quickly before looking back at the road. The last thing we need is another car accident. “We got married before you even knew about the marriage stipulation, and it’s definitely legal.”

Her leg stills, and she pops her lip out from between her teeth. “You’re right. It’s—it’s going to be okay, right? He probably wants to get the whole thing over with since it’s my birthday and he can finally tie up all the loose ends.” She sits back in her seat. “That’s gotta be it, right?”

“Yeah, baby. Everything is going to be okay,” I assure her.

Even if there is something wrong with the trust, I’m going to make this right.

Patrick Ross’s office is about a ten-minute drive from the center of Emberfield. It’s in one of those business suites, so next door is a pediatric dentist and on the other side is a psychiatrist. As we walk to the door, I think about how I’d rather be going to either one of those than to this lawyer who might deliver the news that breaks my wife’s heart. Ironic coming from me, I know.

We walk in, and for the second time today, we’re greeted by a brunette woman in a pencil skirt, although this one looks a lot less unhinged.

“Mr. Ross is waiting for you,” she says, skipping the pleasantries. “Right this way.”

She takes us down a hallway, and I can’t help the déjà vu that creeps along my spine. It was only a little over an hour ago that we were being led down a hallway before I busted my knuckles on my father’s face.

Patrick stands when we enter. He’s a few inches shorter than me with grays scattered around his dark hair. He reminds me a little of my father, which only makes me more uneasy when he looks at me as if I don’t belong here.

“Skylar, please take a seat.” He gestures to the chairs opposite his desk. “I didn’t realize you were bringing a friend.”

I open my mouth to correct him, but Skylar beats me to it. “This is my husband, Declan.”

“Ah, right. Nice to meet you, Declan.” He extends his hand. I look down at it for a good few seconds before I take it, gripping it maybe a little too hard. There’s something about this guy I don’t trust. I just can’t put my finger on it. Maybe it’s his sweaty hand or the way he keeps clearing his throat every time he speaks. He’s nervous, which is not a good sign.

Patrick pulls his hand back, wiping it on his pants. “Thanks for coming in on such short notice.”

“What’s going on?” Skylar asks as she sits down in one of the chairs. I sit next to her, taking her hand in mine, and Patrick goes back to his desk.

He steeples his fingers, and now I want to punch him in the face. I fucking hate when people do that.

“Well, first of all, I wanted to wish you a happy birthday. Twenty-five. It’s a big one.”