Page 100 of Asher Black (The Five Syndicates)
It’s time to face my past.
My hand automatically reaches for Asher’s knee, squeezing it until he stills.
I inventory the situation, knowing I need to do so as quickly as possible. Too much time has already passed since Steve arrived, and he’s standing there awkwardly, his fanatical eyes on me. Clearly, this is the reaction René expected, because he’s currently leaning back in his seat, allowing the situation to run its course.
As I consider my options, I realize why René brought Steve here. If he knows about Steve, he knows what happened. He knows that I ran. He thinks I’ll run again, and if I run, there goes Asher’s stability.
It’s a gamble on René’s part, and he looks so certain that I’m not sure if he realizes that he’s gambling.
He doesn’t know me well enough to know I’ll run. He’s just assuming it based on my past decisions, but I’m not that girl anymore. I have a future that I refuse to part with. I have Aimee and Tommy and Xavier and even Eduardo.
I also have Asher.
So, I grip Asher’s hand for strength and say to René, “What is this?”
Now that I’m no longer shaking, Asher straightens himself and his hand lands on my thigh. He squeezes it. It may be a warning or it may be a question. Either way, I ignore it. I need to do this. René wanted to catch me off guard, and it worked. But I’m not about to let him win.
I want to ruin him.
He let my demons back into my life, and he did it to hurt Asher.
That’s not something I’ll ever let him get away with.
“What do you mean?” René is grinning widely now. “Is there a problem? I thought you’d be happy to see your dad. I mean, you were an orphan, and this kind man took you in. You could at least be a little more grateful.”
Beside him, Steve nods enthusiastically, but I can’t stomach the sight of him, so I quickly avert my eyes. That only makes René smile wider. He thinks he’s winning.
I narrow my eyes, but keep my voice level. It takes a lot of effort, but I manage. “Steve is not my dad. He fostered me for two years before my social worker removed me from his home. The government even allowed me to change my name.”
There’s no better way to take René down than with the truth, even if I have to sacrifice my heart, my dignity and my pride in exchange.
I’m satisfied when René begins to pale. He expected me to be weak, to cower in the face of a man that I allowed to hurt me. But I’m done being weak. Sitting next to me is one of the strongest men I know. I feel empowered by the knowledge that, in the short time I’ve known him, I’ve stood up to him on multiple occasions and even stood up for him on one.
So, I persist. “But if you were able to track Steve down, then you know what happened when I was just seventeen years old.”
There are some gasps around the table from those who have picked up on my insinuation, but I ignore them. I even ignore how tense Asher has gotten beside me.
I lean forward and go in for the kill. “What kind of man brings a pedophile and possible rapist to a party when he knows the victim will be in attendance?”
Then, I take a moment to accept what just happened. I just sacrificed my secrets, my sanity, and my dignity for Asher. I want to say it was for me, but I know it wasn’t. I didn’t have to do this. I could have fled, like I’m so damn good at. I could have done this privately.
But instead, I did this here, in front of his board, so they can see who René is. So, come next week, they will choose Asher’s side. I aired my dirty secrets and made myself vulnerable. For Asher. And I would do it again in a heartbeat.
Amidst the ensuing silence, I make a show of eyeing René up and down, scrutinizing him carefully for theatrical emphasis. “What kind of man are you, René? Because you certainly don’t seem like one fit to sit on the board.” I turn to the men at the table and ask, “What do you guys think?”
I’m putting them on the spot. Those in René’s corner don’t have time to come up with excuses for him. And if they disagree now, there will be a stronger rift within the board, and they’d be on the losing side. I see the defeat in Martin and his wife’s faces, and it almost makes sitting in Steve’s presence worth it.
Before they can speak, René, white-faced and fury-eyed, turns to his coworkers and says, “She’s lying.”
His words reek of desperation. He can’t refute any of my claims. I have the truth on my side. But he doesn’t care, because if he doesn’t say something now, he’ll be over. Hell, his career at Black Enterprises is already over. But he’s not the type to go down without a fight.
It turns out that neither am I.
I admit aloud for the first time since I told my social worker, “Steve targeted me. I was underage at the time. That’s no lie.”
From the seat beside me, Madeline gasps, her hand reaching for my hand that’s on her side. I let her, but I do it to make her feel better, not because I need her comfort. I don’t need it when I have Asher. When I have myself.
René jerks forward. His mouth opens and closes and opens and closes. He’s at a loss for words, so I know he’s still flustered. But it also means he’s still trying to find a way out of this. And I won’t let him. The only way to show the board that I’m telling the truth is another confirmation straight from the other source.
