Silas Townsend.

A man I had never met, yet he held a substantial influence in my creation. Part of me begged me to google him, just to see his face, to see if I had his nose, his chin, some resemblance to prove he was the father I never had, but I was a realist. Even if the file was correct and Silas Townsend was my father, he probably didn’t even remember some random woman he hooked up with once on a cruise twenty-two years ago. Calling him out of the blue and declaring our shared DNA was just weird, not to mention humiliating if he turned me away. Never mind heartbreaking. Besides, I had enough parental problems without adding a new one.

I went back to David’s folder. It was thicker than mine, Mom’s, Cordelia’s, or Eric’s combined. Its sheer mass was intimidating enough to make me want to back away, but I knew I wouldn’t.

The images were on top, grotesque, enlarged snapshots of him with various girls in acts that made my stomach turn. There was blood, so much ... too much, everywhere. There were tears and pain, and girls in the midst of screaming.

“I can’t.”

I shoved out of my chair and scrambled back from all of it. My foot caught the leg of my seat and we both nearly went down. But I caught myself and took another step away from the desk, away from the images. My stomach roiled, massive waves threatening to ruin the carpeting. My nerves jangled, sending tremors all through my body.

I wanted to cry. Not just for myself and the fate that could have been mine, but those girls, those poor, helpless girls. Were they even alive anymore? Had he killed them? I was terrified by the fact that I wouldn’t have put it past him.

“I can use them.” Kieran stepped around the desk with deliberately slow steps. “I can make him wish he were dead. Just say the words.”

It took all my willpower to revert my attention away from evil resting comfortably a few feet away to the man I would give my life for and the power he was offering me.

I’d never had power.

I never had control.

With just the offering of a single folder, I had it all. I had the means to destroy my demons. I could watch him beg for mercy as I had every time he’d twisted his hands into my hair and dragged me to the ground, every time his palm left prints across my face, every time he touched me with that look in his eyes. I could drive my wrath into his heart like a blade and watch him hemorrhage.

“No.”

To his credit, Kieran never so much as batted an eye at my decision. “Are you sure?”

I glanced again at the abandoned images, the girls past the point of saving, girls not nearly as important as the reasoning behind my choice.

“I can’t let our children bear this.” I lifted my gaze to his. “It would haunt them. They would forever have to live with the knowledge of what their grandfather has done. You would have to live with it, with people knowing, people judging. It would cost you—”

“I don’t care—”

“I do.” I went to him, taking the long way around to avoid the snake on the desk. “He’s already taken enough from me. I won’t let his evil touch you or our kids.” I stepped into arms already open to me and nuzzled the front of his naked chest. “Let it die. Burn the folder. I don’t want anyone to ever know.”

I felt his chin brush the top of my head with his single nod.

“If that’s what you want.”

I CAME AWAKE WITH A violent jolt, mind already expecting the cold concrete and itchy blanket. I expected the stench of urine and dampness. My entire body was already braced for a fight when a firm arm snaked around my middle. Warmth enveloped me, contrasting with the cold sweat chilling my skin. My strangled gasp was muffled by the possessive tug pulling me back into a lean, naked frame.

“Shh,” my companion whispered into my ear. “It’s just me. I got you. You’re safe.”

Relief drowned me. I went limp in his embrace.

“Kieran.”

He kissed my shoulder. “That’s right.”

I turned until our fronts touched, our noses bumped, and I could see the love in his eyes. I touched the side of his face.

“I missed you.”

He smoothed a piece of hair off my cheek. “Missed you, too, baby.”

My fingertips traced the rugged lines of his face and dipped into the hollow of his cheek. The overnight shadow prickled my skin, a familiar and comforting texture.

“I knew you would find me,” I murmured. “I knew you would bring me home.”

He tugged me closer. “Always.”

I closed my eyes and lowered my brow to rest on his chin. “Can we go somewhere?”

“Anywhere you want.”

I lifted my face back up and met his gaze. “No, I mean can we leave this place completely? Go somewhere far away?”

His touch grazed the side of my cheek and down my jaw to my chin. “Like I said, anywhere you want.”

I would need to think about it. Even with my escape plan, I never had an actual destination. My whole goal had been to get the money, drive to the airport, and buy the first available plane ticket to anywhere in the world and never come back.

But that had been just me. Could I make Kieran drop his entire life and go with me? He had a business, a home ... a mother. This was his city. Why did he have to uproot everything and run because I was too scared to stay? It wasn’t fair.

“Hey.” He lightly nudged my chin with his knuckles. “Stop. Whatever you’re thinking, whatever you’re planning, whatever is rolling around in that pretty head of yours, stop.”

“You can’t leave,” I murmured quietly. “I can’t ask you to.”

“You’re not asking. I never planned to stay here once we got married. You’re not suggesting anything I haven’t already decided myself.”

That surprised me.

“You would leave your company? Your house? What about your mom?”

He shrugged. “I can fly back if I need to for work, or if Mom needs me, and this house was never mine. I honestly wouldn’t care if we never came back.”

I didn’t know what to say, but there were no words to properly express how deeply I was in love with him, or how profoundly lucky I was to have him. So, I did the next best thing; I kissed him.

I locked my lips with his and poured everything I didn’t know how to say into the melding. I threaded my fingers into his hair and gripped him close as I worked one leg over his hip. The weight sent him onto his back and I took advantage of his position to climb over him. My fingers fumbled with the strings keeping his sweats in place around his tapered hips. My rushed efforts were met with a tangled knot that only seemed to grow tighter with each tug.

“I need scissors!” I muttered against his mouth.

His chuckle warmed my lips a split second before I was snatched up and twisted under him. His weight settled on top of me, pinning me to the mattress. His hands had a much easier time freeing the sash on my robe. The downy material fell apart as if on command, leaving me bare and exposed to the hand he slipped over the curve of my ribs, just beneath my breast. His lips detached from mine and started down my neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. He reached my pulse when his phone shrilled from the nightstand.

“Don’t answer it,” I panted, gripping his hair with both hands to keep him where he was.

“It’s my mom’s ring tune.” He tugged back just enough to raise his head. “She doesn’t usually call.”

I relented when he reached for the device. I caught a glimpse of his mother’s name on the screen before he mashed it to his ear.

“Hello Mother.”

There was a pause where I could just barely hear the brisk voice on the other end.

“Yes, I’m home.” A frown creased Kieran’s brow. “No, I haven’t. Why—? What?”

I shot upright when he did, hands shoving the folds of my robe together.

“No, I didn’t ... when?”

Kieran scrambled off the bed. He barely paused when motioning for me to stay where I was.

“I’m getting it now. No, I had no idea.”

Those were the last words I heard before he was jogging from the room.

Anxiety propelled me off the mattress and sprinting to the closest. One whole side had been emptied for me, a cheaper, more colorful aura of colors compared to Kieran’s darker suits and white shirts. The sight usually made me smile, but I barely noticed when tugging several random articles down and pulling them on. I abandoned the idea of shoes and socks, and hurried to the door just as Kieran returned, no longer on the phone, but holding a newspaper.

“What’s going on?” My voice came out hoarse and shaky as if I’d just finished a marathon.

He moved to the bed, head bent over the article.

I followed him, heart in my throat. Its thundering amplified when he raised a hand to his mouth and rubbed at his jaw in dismay.

“Kieran?”

I touched his arm lightly.

His answer was to fold the paper up and toss it on the end table before turning to me.

Deep, beautiful brown eyes met mine, his a catacomb of indecision and guilt. Lines etched the corners of his pursed lips. He took my hand in his and tugged me to him.

“Gabby.” He broke off abruptly, tightening the noose around my stomach.

“What?”

I was already reaching for the paper, fingers shaking, but he stopped me.

“Okay, wait.” He nudged me gently down on the corner of the mattress and took the spot next to me. His fingers stayed wrapped around mine. “There was an accident.”

I stared at him, baffled beyond reasoning as his words slowly sank in, but not in the manner most people would have experienced. My mind didn’t jump to all the names and faces of the people I loved. I barely even felt panic. I was confused.

“Who?” I prompted, no longer as anxious as I had been.

He hesitated, which I didn’t understand either. The only person I loved, the only person who truly mattered to me was sitting on the bed with me. There wasn’t a soul on earth I cared enough about to fall apart at their death. I might have been sad about it, but I doubted it would go beyond that.

“Your mom,” he said at last. “She was found dead yesterday. It’s in the paper.”

In the paper.

My supposed family didn’t even think it necessary to call me to tell me themselves that my only mother had died. Then again, I was supposed to be locked up in a sex dungeon.

“How?”

Surprise flickered over his features. “Overdose.”

I should have guessed that, I realized. I had known of my mother’s addiction. I had always wondered if it would be the thing that killed her.

“Will there be a funeral?”

Now he was confused. I could see it in the tangle of his eyebrows and the bewilderment in his eyes. I almost wished I could pretend I was affected ... for his sake.

“She wasn’t really my mother,” I murmured. “I mean, she always tried. She did her best without upsetting David, but other than giving birth to me, I didn’t really know her. It’s like losing a neighbor,” I explained.

He lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

I only nodded to that. “Is there a date for the funeral?” I asked again.

“Friday.”

Three days.

It was just like David to clean it all up and tuck it away before people really got asking. I was partially surprised he didn’t just cremate her and tell everyone it was too painful to do a proper funeral. People would have bought that. They probably would have even sympathized with him for losing the woman he’d been married to forever, dying under such horrible circumstances.

Didn’t matter, I told myself. Marcella was the only link joining me to that family. With her gone, I had no reason to ever look back.

“I would like to attend,” I decided, mainly to myself. “I want to say goodbye, but after that,” I faced Kieran, “maybe we can search for a new place?”

He leaned in and kissed me lightly. “Whatever you want.”

I reached past him for the newspaper and flipped it open to the article.

It was in the gossip column, a full spread on the life and death of Marcella Thornton, a modern woman, a glamorous pillar of the community, a wife and mother to two beautiful children. I knew immediately that Cordelia had put in the story, or had some hand in it. Oddly enough, it made no difference to me that I was cut out of my own mother’s obituary. If anything, I was already expecting it.

But the article went on to describe Marcella’s impeccable fashion sense, her love of animals, and her family. There wasn’t a shred of anything substantial, nothing to make it seem like she had anything worthwhile in her life beyond being shallow and boring. But then again, they weren’t far off. My mother had never had a life. She’d been as much a prisoner as I’d been. The only difference was she chose to be married to that monster. She chose to let herself get killed a little each day. She chose drugs and numbness over her children. I wasn’t sure I was capable of sympathy, but I would go to pay what little respect I had left. Afterwards, I would start my new path without ever looking back.