Why the hell would he actually remember the lives he and his family had destroyed? But then finally…there it was…a glimmer of recognition.
“Clark Douglas…he was your father?” His brow furrowed and his blue eyes darkened as he looked over at me, though I could manage was a nod, tears stinging my eyes. “Fuck…I’m so sorry, love. I heard what happened, and I can’t even imagine how hard it’s been for you.”
“That’s rich, coming from you, when you had a hand in his death.” There were so many more things on the tip of my tongue, so many things that I thought I’d say to him in this very moment. But what I hadn’t expected was to see the confusion in his face.
“Em…you’ll have to excuse me, but…I don’t understand.” He shook his head as if to clear it, his blue eyes darkening with hurt. “Do you think I had something to do with your father taking his life?”
“Not just my father’s life—but my mother’s and my sister’s too. She was fourteen, Locke. Fourteen! She didn’t even have a chance to live her life. And now she’s gone. They’re all gone, and I have no one left.” A sob stuck in my throat, but my anger swallowed it down, taking over. And when he pulled me into his arms, I lashed out, pounding my fists against his hard chest even as my tears spilled over and my sobs finally escaped.
He held onto me, ignoring my struggles and my anger with him, until I could do nothing but weep against his chest, the pain of my loss raining down on me. “I know you’re hurting, love…but I swear, I had nothing to do with what happened to your father.”
Ignoring the tears that streamed down my cheeks, I pulled away, once again angry. How could he deny what happened? And if he didn’t have anything to do with harassing my father, then why did he know him? Their paths would never have crossed otherwise. “Then if not you, your family. Or are you trying to deny that you ever harassed him? Because I know you were there. And I know you threatened him.”
“Em…” His brow furrowed, his blue eyes darkening and his gaze intense. “I’m not going to lie to you. Your father had gotten himself mixed up in a world of trouble, and I was there on behalf of my client, to try to get your father to give back the money he’d stolen. But I didn’t threaten him—I was there to help him see the reality of his situation.”
And what was my father’s reality? That he was a dead man if he didn’t pay up?
I scoffed. “Oh, well, that’s perfectly fine then.”
He shook his head, letting out a ragged sigh. “I know that still sounds like I’m a fucking asshole. And I am. But…I was only there as a messenger, to try to talk some sense into him. And once that didn’t work, my job was done. I’m not saying that I didn’t scare him. But I never laid a finger on him—and my words weren’t just some scare tactic. They were just the honest truth of what would happen if I couldn’t get him to return the money.”
“What money? There wasn’t anything there—and my father would never have stolen anything. He was a good man.” I couldn’t believe what Locke was saying. Everything out of his mouth contradicted the man I’d known, the man who’d raised me. And though we weren’t rich, we’d been comfortable. So then why the hell would my father steal money from a criminal?
“He was a good man. But you’re beating yourself up about this, when it’s not your fault. Even good men make mistakes and even good men have problems—problems they keep from their family and those they love.” Locke took my hand in his, as his words spilled over me like a newfound misery, making me question everything I’d known about my father, my life.
Had it all been a lie? Or was Locke the one lying to me now, using it as a way to push the guilt off his shoulders?
“What sort of problems?” I needed to know…needed to know if there was anything I could have done to stop him, needed to know if there were any signs I’d missed.
“Honestly? I don’t know why he’d taken the money. At the time, I suspected a gambling problem, since most people know better than to take money from the sort of man you don’t ever want to screw over.” He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees as he looked at me, shaking his head. “And I hate to be the one to tell you, Em, but your dad wasn’t just some accountant—he was cooking the books for Munroe, who’s a well-known criminal. The only reason I got called in to make your dad see sense is because Munroe liked him and wanted to give him a chance to do the right thing.”
I shook my head no, not wanting to believe any of it. “None of this makes sense. Even if he’d gotten himself into trouble, why kill my mother and sister?”
“I really don’t know, Em… But if I had to guess, whoever threatened him next, once it was out of my hands, probably did a good job of scaring him. So much so that he worried that his family might be forced to endure a fate worse than death. Some of the guys out there are more than capable of delivering on those types of threats. Or…maybe they forced him to do it…or set it up to look like he did it. Honestly, I really don’t know.” He shifted in his seat to face me, leaving me to try to reconcile his words and what I knew of my father with the man who’d raised me.
Some of what Locke was saying made sense, especially when it came to my father killing my mother and sister. But if it wasn’t Locke, then who? Certainly, Munroe played a part. But I doubt he got his hands dirty.
“So, Munroe was the one who sent you and his other thugs after my father?” Unless, of course, Locke was lying to me about all of this, so he could keep me thinking that he was a good guy.
“He was, but after that, I don’t know who he sent, since I’d already walked away. And though I’m assuming he was the one who kept pressing your dad, there’s also a good chance your father had other accounts he was working with. And if he stole from Munroe, then chances are good he may have skimmed from other accounts too—and criminals don’t tend to appreciate it when it’s their money being stolen.” His piercing blue eyes were still kind as ever, though I knew it’d only be a matter of time before his anger settled in and he started to question the real reason I’d shown up at his home and lied about who I was. “Did you go through your father’s things?”
I nodded, swallowing down my guilt as I told myself that I’d had every right to suspect Locke, even though I now knew that chances were good that it wasn’t him. “Yeah, I did. That was how I found your name. But…I don’t think I really knew what I was looking for. I’m sure I missed all sorts of clues.”
“And this whole thing between us… It’s been nothing but a lie, hasn’t it?”
It had started that way. But now? I didn’t have a fucking clue.