Page 208 of Devious Lies (Cruel Crown)
Being near him seemed surreal, like returning home after a long vacation to see all your furniture gone. I still recognized him, but the memories came to me slowly as I pieced together what went where.
“In bullfighting, it’s the part of the ring where the bull feels strongest and safest. The place he gravitates to and makes his home. It develops as the fight progresses and becomes the place he is most dangerous, where he is impossible to kill.”
He flashed me a brilliant smile, one that had always convinced me of how proud he was that I existed. “I’ve missed you, Em.”
“You’re happy,” I replied, not a statement or a question. More like an accusation or demand, except I didn't understand what I’d asked of him.
I saw it in the deeper laugh lines. The carefree demeanor. How he'd stopped graying. If being in Eastridge had sucked the life out of him, living in Blithe Beach had granted him more.
It was callous, but I wanted none of this fanfare. I wanted to cut straight to the problem and fix it. “Virginia told me Balthazar Van Doren is my father.”
“He’s not your father.” Gideon’s jaw ticked. He pulled back a step. “He’s a sperm donor at best.”
“Why did you keep this from me?”
“I planned on telling you when you turned eighteen, but the scandal happened.”
“Nash told me Balthazar blackmailed you into giving him a share of the company.”
“He and Virginia embezzled from it. She needed a cushion in case I divorced her. I found out, so they cut Eric Cartwright into their scam.” He swiped his jaw, eyes fixated in the distance. “They had him draw up parental rights papers and threatened me with them. You were a minor. If I told anyone about the embezzlement, I would have lost you.”
“And now? I’m twenty-three.”
“I've been emailing you every week, trying to talk to you, waiting for you to come see me, so we can do this in person.” He clasped onto my hands, drawing me nearer. “I’m not blaming you. It’s not your fault. But I need you to realize I tried. Even when you saw me outside your diner and called the cops on me, I kept showing up. I love you. Far as I'm concerned, you're my daughter.”
I swallowed, squinting into the distance to avoid looking at him. Did this make me the architect of my misery? I didn't feel like the girl who chased storms. I felt like the girl who ran from them.
“Will you tell me about the rest? I want to know what happened to you after the scandal. I want to know why Virginia isn't in jail. Was there no proof? Was it your word against hers? I want to know how Nash is involved. I want to know how I am involved.”
“I’ll tell you.” He flipped the bill of his hat and covered the top step of his porch. “Every Saturday, we can meet up, and I'll explain it piece by piece. I promise.”
I sat beside him. “You can't explain it now?”
“I could, but how else am I gonna get you to meet me?” He nudged my arm with his shoulder.
Biting back a smile, I considered the reception he'd get anywhere but Blithe. “I’ll come here.”
“You sure? I can drive to Haling Cove.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Can we meet at Hank’s grave next time?”
“Of course.” He appraised me, taking in my black hair and the t-shirt. “I want to know everything about you.”
I shrugged and tapped my foot on the step. “There’s not much to know. I can write everything on a sheet of paper and have most of the white space left over.”
Except Demi.
My penance.
Why did it feel less meaningful suddenly? Why did it feel different?
My eyes widened. I ducked my head down, processing. Perhaps I hadn’t been trying to alleviate my guilt. I was trying to alleviate Dad’s culpability. If he could make things right, maybe I could see him again. Maybe I could have a dad.
“What’s eating at you?” Dad tapped my shoulder. “There’s something else.”
“It's a lot to take in.” I considered lying, but went with the ugly, painful truth. “And mostly… In the past four years, I knew we weren't talking, but I never felt like I didn't belong here. And now
… I’m not sure.”
