Page 30 of The Eraser

I stand tall. There's no way I'm telling him. Some of his men know as they've participated in the heinous things that were inflicted on me.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Dad was just stressed today." The lie slips easily from my lips. It's something I'm used to. Lying in this world comes as easily as breathing.

He glares at me. He doesn't believe me, but he doesn't say anything. "Call me if you need me, Jessie."

Never going to happen. "I will," I lie once again.

He tuts. "You’re as stubborn and as beautiful as your ma. You remind me so much of her."

I smile, and this time it's a real one. "I've heard that a time or two," I comment. It's not often that people talk about Patricia Grace.

He grins at me. "Well, it's true. You're the image of her. Swear to Christ, Jessie, I walked into the house today and did a double take. I thought Patty was standing there."

I swallow past the lump in my throat. I never thought that Jerry and I would have a conversation that wasn't filled with anger or hate. Yet here we are, and I'm actually softening toward the old man.

He moves closer to me, his hand lifts to my face, and he cups my cheek, the callousness of his palm rough against my skin. "Jessica, remember that I'm here if you ever need me. Any time of the day, call me."

I nod. "I will," I promise him, and this time I actually mean it.

His hand tightens on my cheek somewhat. It's not sore but it's enough to get my attention. "Your da hits you again and I find out that you never told me, then we're going to have a problem. Do I make myself clear, young lady?"

"Yes, sir," I respond immediately.

He kisses my cheek, satisfied with my answer. "Okay, loveen. Go back to the party and enjoy yourself."

I smile. I guess he's going to continue to call me that. I move toward the door, the sound of my heels masked against the fluffy carpet. When my hand touches the door handle, I stop and glance back at him. "Uncle Jer?"

He lifts his head and glances at me, a smile on his face, his brow raised. "What's Stephen Maguire like?" As soon as the question leaves my mouth, I regret it, especially when a dark look comes over Jer’s face. But I need to know and Jer knows him better than most.

"Mr. Maguire is unlike any man I've ever encountered, Jessica. He's a man without a soul, one who would destroy someone like you. Be very careful how you tread, Jessie. Because a man like Stephen, he'll own you completely and there's no way he'll ever let you go."

I swallow hard. That's something I had considered. Stephen has an aura around him that is completely and utterly dark. The man himself is as evil as can be. I've heard the stories of the Eraser. I know there's only one man in the Houlihan Gang that has the capability to be as merciless as the Eraser, and that man is Stephen.

The way Jerry talks about him, it's only further proof that Stephen is who I believe him to be. The dangerous vibe that comes off him in waves should act as a deterrent but it only acts as a magnet. I thought I was done with him after what happened the night Mallory and I went out. What he did was everything I've been trying to get away from. But today, all those feelings I've felt over the years came flooding back. I'm drawn to the man. There's something about him that calms me.

"Just tread carefully," Jerry warns me again.

I leave the library and return to the ballroom, the conversation I had with Jerry replaying over and over in my mind. I can't get over the fact my father lied. I shouldn't be surprised, but I bloody well am. He's lied to me for years, and I thought the only honest thing he told me was about Mam. Now I know that's a fucking lie.

I hate him. More than I would ever admit.

"There you are," Mallory says with a smile as she links her arm through mine. "Want to tell me what's going on between you and Maguire?" The glee in her voice makes me wince. She's too happy about this, and I'm seriously wondering what her game is.

She knows everything about what’s gone on between Stephen and me. She knows exactly how I feel about him—well, felt—but she’s worried about it. She knows what he’s like. We both saw firsthand what he’s like. It’s hard to ignore. But the look on her face now makes me wonder if she’s team Stephen again.

"Nothing's going on with me and Mr. Maguire. He asked me about what happened with Dad. I didn't answer. The end."

She pulls on my arm. "You're full of shite, but whatever. I'll deal."

I roll my eyes at her. She's ridiculous. "What's Dad been like?"

She huffs. "He's been a bloody asshole. The prick has been practically growling at everyone. The dressing down he got from Jerry has turned him into an even worse bastard than usual."

Great, just what I need. It's time to steer clear of him. There's only one thing worse than my dad being angry, and that's him being angry and drunk, and right now, he's downing a glass of whiskey like it's holy water.

* * *

"I warned you," Dad snarls in my face, and my nostrils fill with the smell of whiskey.

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