Page 201 of Devious Lies (Cruel Crown)
So many questions, but I trembled too hard to ask them all. I needed to take a step back, have this conversation tomorrow when the alcohol and adrenaline fled my system, but I feared he’d be less candid.
No, it needed to happen now.
“He didn’t find out about Balthazar until you turned six. Balty showed up, looking for some cash. He threatened to claim his parental rights over you. Gideon struck a deal, allowing him to be a partner in Winthrop Textiles in exchange for his silence.”
“Why would Dad—” I swallowed, digging my nails into my palms. My pulse gripped my throat, erratic and unrelenting. “Why would Gideon tell you this?”
“Because he’s not guilty.”
Another lie, maybe?
I tugged at the corset of this ridiculous dress, struggling to breathe. “But the F.B.I. and S.E.C. announced an investigation against him. The whole town calls him a cheat.”
“I—” He cursed and yanked his collar hard, causing a button to pop off. Neither of us were made for these clothes, though he wore his easier than I wore mine. “None of this is my secret to tell. At least, not before you talk to your dad.”
My lower lip wobbled. “Except he's not my dad.”
I wanted to scream, and yell, and claw at Nash. I wanted the same for him. An uncontrollable reaction.
This didn’t feel like us. A civilized argument, no magic in the air, no flames we couldn’t douse, no fucking fight.
Our age gap never felt more prominent than it did now.
Twenty-three and fatherless.
Thirty-two and fatherless.
We carried it so differently. Him, with barriers erected higher than any skyscraper mankind could build. Me, with tiny thorns that pricked but didn’t possess the strength to draw blood. Unbreakable stone versus a fractured heart. I knew which would win, and it wasn’t the heart.
“He is,” Nash insisted. “In every way that matters, Gideon Winthrop is your father. Even when you never returned his postcards and ignored him after he tried to visit you, he didn’t give up hope that you’d return to him.”
I remembered the visit. Three years ago, I spotted him waiting for me outside the diner I worked at. I called the cops and told them some creep stalked me there.
Disbelief clung to me, it’s hold nearly choking my neck. “I told you yesterday that I miss my dad.”
“I know, and I—”
“You saw me near tears, and instead of telling me the truth, you fucked me.”
“That's not why I—”
“I don’t care why you screwed me, Nash. I care that you did, knowing how I felt about my dad in that moment.”
“Shit.” He palmed his face. “That wasn’t fucking. Don’t tell me you didn’t feel anything last night. What happened to redamancy?”
I did feel it, but I didn't answer. Maybe tomorrow, but not tonight. Everything hurt too much. Felt too raw. Because I promised myself after the Winthrop Scandal, I’d never let another liar into my life.
No matter how good he tasted. No matter how good he made my body feel. No matter how good he made my heart feel.
My foot inched past the doorframe.
“Emery.” He matched my steps.
“I thought I built walls after the scandal. I thought something like this would never happen again. I feel so stupid for not seeing the difference between a truth and a lie.”
“Don't blame yourself.”
“I don’t. Not entirely. My heart was hungry, so you fed it lies. Everyone in this world lies, and I should have realized that.”
