Page 82 of Hero's Heart

“I don’t understand. Explain it to me.”

“I told you about when I was ten,” she began, her voice brittle, “and my mom left my dad. That she took money when she left.”

“And he hated her and resented you for it. Made you pay back the money he lent you for funeral expenses.” Because the man was an asshole.

“There was more to it that I didn’t tell you. My mom also took some jewelry. I think maybe some jewelry he’d bought for Clarice. I remember Mom and me going to a pawn shop and selling it.”

Callum’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t interrupt.

“When Mom died and I went to my father’s, he asked if I’d known she’d stolen stuff. When I said I knew about the jewelry she’d taken, he made me sign a document saying I was a part of her theft and would take responsibility for paying him back. He said, with interest, it would be over $100,000.”

Callum’s jaw clenched, the veins in his neck taut as he forced himself to speak as calmly as possible. “And that’s why you think you’re a thief?”

She nodded. “He’s got my signed statement admitting my guilt. He said it was only out of the kindness of his heart that he was stopping Clarice from having me thrown in jail. That I had to stay and pay what was owed. Do whatever the family needed.”

Callum could not believe what he was hearing. This was bullshit of the highest fucking order. He opened his mouth tostart explaining all the holes in William Getty’s story, but she continued.

“And then it got more complicated.”

It was taking every ounce of self-restraint he had to let her continue. She needed to get this out. “Tell me.”

“There were the times when Marissa got into trouble after I moved in. She got into a car accident when she was driving drunk and hit a tree. Before calling the cops, she had me come out to the accident site then told the police it was me who was driving.”

What the actual fuck?

“Then once, when we were at the mall, she shoplifted from some high-end store. The store called the cops and showed them the security footage and?—”

“And Marissa said it was you.”

She paused, her lips trembling as fresh tears streamed down her face. “The cops believed her, of course. Why wouldn’t they? I was the good-for-nothing daughter of the house, the one already branded a thief by her own father. I spent a night in jail. My dad got me out, but he made it clear I owed him even more for that.”

Callum exhaled sharply, his voice tight with barely controlled anger. “Sloane, Jesus…”

“He told me that prison was all I had to look forward to if I didn’t do as I was told.” Her voice broke again. “Do you hate me?”

If any of the Getty family had been there right then, Callum wasn’t sure he could’ve been responsible for his actions. Rage rose inside him like a savage black wave, but he forced it down.

Right now was about Sloane and what she needed.

As gently as possible, he cupped her face. “Sloane. Look at me.”

She did, her blue eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“You don’t have to live under any of this anymore,” he said, his voice steady despite the storm of fury swirling inside him. “That paper you signed? It’s worthless. No one can hold you responsible for something your mother did, especially when you were only ten years old. Not to mention, you were a minor when you signed it. It wouldn’t hold up in court for a second.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Hell, even if you’d been eighteen, we could argue duress. You were trying to get money to bury your mother, for God’s sake. You probably would’ve signed anything.”

Sloane’s lips parted in surprise, a flicker of hope sparking in her eyes. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Callum said firmly. “And as for the trading places with Marissa, let me ask you this? Was it the same cop involved both times?”

She nodded. “Yes. Detective Whitman.”

“I can promise you something shady was going on, then. It wouldn’t have been the same department, let alone the same officer for both crimes. I have no doubt Whitman is on your father’s payroll. I’ll look into it. And if there’s any record of what they did to you, I’ll make sure it’s wiped clean.”

Her tears flowed freely now, but they were no longer the tears of despair. She collapsed into his arms, her small frame shaking against his chest as he held her tightly.

---