Page 91 of Snowbound with the Santas

Someone chokes slightly in the other cell.

“Because…” Cecil awkwardly clears his throat, and when he looks at me, he can barely hold eye contact. “Because wearefamily.”

“Oh, having wealth doesn’t make us related,” I snap. “You’re just throwing money at the problem, aren’t you? That’s all you and Mom ever do. Something goes wrong, just throw money around until something sticks!”

“No, Rayne. I mean it. We are family.”

An ice-cold chill crawls down my spine. “What?”

“What you… witnessed between me and your mother. That wasn’t the first time. Not by a long shot.”

I step away from the bars on shaking legs. “You’re not saying what I think you’re saying…”

“Yes. I am your father. You are my blood, so what protects me also protects you.”

Something pops softly in my mind and a sudden roaring fills my ears. I step back further and for a moment, I think I might fall. Somehow, I remain standing, and I press one hand to my abdomen to stop the hollowness inside me from spilling out.

“I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“Years ago, your mother and I slept?—

“I get that part!” I snap hoarsely. “All these years…”

“I simply could not raise a child with my job, Rayne. You have to understand I hold a very important position and I did not have the time to raise a child. Your mother was very understanding.”

“She knew?”

“Of course she did.”

“But… but all this time, all those years, she told me my dad was some deadbeat who wanted nothing to do with me,” I gasp.

“She wasn’t wrong,” Nick mutters from his cell.

Cecil shoots a sharp look toward Nick, then faces me. “You have to understand?—”

“No,” I snap, cutting him off and lifting my gaze. Tears swim in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. “You were around. Not always, sure, but you were around enough that I called youUncle, yet you stand there and tell me you didn’t havetimeto be a father because of your job, and my mother knew?”

The emptiness inside me suddenly floods with anger and in a second, my entire perspective changes. How have I spent my entire life under the thumb of these people? Worrying about what they think, trying to make them happy, trying to understand that I’m the odd one out that everyone is ashamed of. It should bethem. They should be ashamed. They should be the ones trying to earnmyapproval.

“It was the best choice at the time,” Cecil says firmly.

“And now? What about my entire twenty-six years on this fucking earth? You didn’t see a good time to tell me you were my father?” Surging forward, I slam my hands against the bars. “You’re pathetic. I can’t believe I used to feel bad for you and how lonely you seemed. It was your own doing. So don’t think for a second that just because you’re finally helping me out for once in your miserable life, that you will ever have the right to call me daughter!”

“I am under no illusions,” Cecil replies. “I am doing this for your mother.”

I roll my eyes so hard that it’s almost painful. “Of course. We don’t want to upsether, do we?”

I stalk away from the bars and wrap my arms around myself. There’s a terrible chill running up and down my arms, turning my skin to gooseflesh. Cecil’s shoes clack on the floor, and when I look back, he’s standing in front of the other cell facing down my men.

“Archer. Frankie. And you, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Nick,” he says stiffly. “What a displeasure.”

“Ah.” Cecil appears mostly unfazed. A talent from his work, I’m sure. “Archer. You may not believe me, but I am still as sorry as I ever was for how things went down during that operation.”

Archer remains in the corner with his arms folded so tightly that his muscles bulge. His face is as dark as a shadow, making his fury clear.

“I cannot bring those men back. Nor, I suppose, can I make up for everything that went wrong that day. I cannot change the past or what it made me do, but I can do my best now to make sure my presence in things works to aid you.”

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