Silence.
The word thundered in my head, and I didn’t like the sound of the word “silence.” At all. In fact, it stood out to me almost as much as my grandfather’s reveal of the criminal actions of my father. Criminal. I’d known he wasn’t a great man for a long time, but I’d never considered he might have gone that far.
“Silenced it?” I croaked. “Did I just hear you correctly?”
“You did.”
“What…what happened to her?”
He studied me for a moment. “Your father had a lot of problems. Many flaws. That’s well documented, and I know it’s no surprise to you. But I also took care to conceal some of those traits from you because you were a minor at the time.”
“Oh, God…”
“Let me finish before you make any conclusions.” He took a deep breath. “Some of those flaws always seemed to come out around women. And he’d always had a thing for the help. One night, he acted on it with Samantha’s mother.”
“Holy shit,” I breathed. My mind raced as I guessed where he’d head next. And every cell in my body told me it wouldn’t be good.
“He didn’t get far that night—but he got far enough. In fact, I later watched some of it play out on the surveillance system of the house.” My grandfather sneered. “It wasn’t pretty. He might have been drunk that night, but she had a decent criminal case. Had she gone to the police, she might have been able to destroy our family.”
I moved forward on the chair. “So…what? You bought her off? Bought her silence?”
“We offered her the same package we’d offered some of your father’s previous—um—transgressions.”
“Excuse me?” My tongue thickened as my mouth went dry. “Previous transgressions? How many are we talking about?”
Grandad shrugged. “A few dozen, perhaps. Maybe more. Enough that it was a problem, and we had to have something in place to deal with it. After a while, it became rote. We had a playbook, and we followed it. The team of lawyers had a few important documents on standby. All we needed to do was change a few details, and the problem would often take care of itself.”
“My God,” I murmured. “Dear fucking God.”
My father…he was a criminal. And my grandfather let him get away with it. A few dozen fucking times. What. The. Hell?
“We had to look out for our better interests.” My grandfather regarded me with cold, unfeeling eyes. “Neutralizing the problem was the only choice we had.” He waved a hand. “And I was thoroughly unwilling to risk what we had.”
I rubbed my face. The implication was coming into focus, and it made me sick, angry, and disgusted. No, it was more than that. I was furious. Not only was my father a fucking disgrace, but my grandfather had shown me that he was too. He had no morals, and no values other than those that centered on making money and advancing the family interests. He didn’t care about the people hurt along the way.
And I knew one thing at that moment. I was not like him. I didn’t share that part of his DNA.
“If you want me to do go along with the status quo, I won’t do it,” I said. “I won’t be part of a coverup. We’re talking about sexual harassment here, and—”
“No, we aren’t talking about harassment here. We are talking about a history of sexual assault and predatory behavior.” He paused. “And in some cases, rape. Simple as that.”
“Simple as that?” I yelled. “What the fuck?”
Shock pulsed through me. Again, it was worse than I thought. And he was so damn blasé about it, as if the accusations were as common as a missed quarterly earnings forecast. “Rape? Sexual assault?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” My grandfather sighed. “I don’t have to tell you that in today’s culture, this could have ended our family. Ended our company.”
“And that’s all you care about. Some stupid bottom line.”
“The company is not a bottom line. Far from it. It’s everything we have.”
“You can’t dismiss this kind of behavior. That’s a crime.”
I stared at him, as the reality of it pulled into view. I’d been lying to myself about the people around me for years. Even my own family. They were horrible. The kind of people I despised.
“He didn’t rape Samantha’s mother, did he?” My question came out as a warning.
“No, it didn’t get that far.” My grandfather ranked a hand over his forehead. “Thankfully.”
I pushed back in the chair. Anger boiled in my veins. How dare he act so dismissively of Samantha’s mother? How dare he blow this off? And how dare my father inflict that kind of pain? “And yet, somehow, you find offering her a bribe acceptable.”
“I never said that. Never. I didn’t find it acceptable, I found it abhorrent.” He drank the last of his bourbon. “And believe me, I’ve spent years wondering why he turned out the way that he did. I offered help many times. Counseling. The entire thing.” His face fell, and his eyes turned sad. “I wanted him to get better and to be his best self. He never did.”
In some ways, part of me had always known this about my father. He was a flawed, deviant, tough man—someone who had never allowed me to get close to him, a man I considered the opposite of myself. But hearing this latest detail about my dad was far beyond what I’d ever considered him capable of doing. The news was earth-shattering.
Part of me hated him. Hated our family.
“You knew all these things about Dad, but you were still willing to cover it up,” I finally said. “You were complicit. That’s just as bad, Grandad. It makes you no better than him, and it’s—”
“I wasn’t complicit, son. I was strategic.”
“Same difference.” I stood from the chair as a deep pounding began to build in my chest. “And, don’t call me son.”
“Why not? That’s what you are to me, kid.”
“I hate that term. Most of all, I hate hearing it from you. I’m not your son.”
“But—”
“No matter how hard you try, you won’t make me like you.”
I glared at him. I didn’t know what to think, or how to feel. Everything I’d ever thought about my grandfather was coming undone before my eyes. “All I can think of is this—you placed the company and your fortune ahead of what was right. What was moral. You were willing to use our money and our influence to keep someone from receiving justice, even if it was the wrong thing to do.”
“Things aren’t always so simple,” he replied, and his words were cold, unfeeling.
“This is unacceptable.” I’d unleashed my anger, and there was no turning back now. I backed away from the desk. “I’m disgusted. Sickened.”
He stood. “I think you’re overreacting. Take a few deep breaths and clear you head. Remember who you are. You’re an Armstrong for Christ’s sake.”
“No, no way. I may be in name, but I am not like you. Or Dad.” I held up my hand to stop him from responding. He needed to hear what I had to say, and he needed to hear it immediately. “It’s impossible for me to underreact about what you’ve just said. I am appalled. And I’m as sick over your behavior as I am his.”
“Please, son—”
“Never call me that again. I’m not your son.” I regarded him through my rage, and something clicked inside of me. This wasn’t the end of the story. Not even close. “Let me guess, though. There’s more?”
He answered with a light shake of his head.
“Jesus Christ,” I replied.
He chewed his ragged bottom lip. “I know you wanted to give Miss Green some money. But that account is now closed. And if she tries to access the account—it’s flagged as fraudulent.”