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I stormed across and stared him down. “What? You don’t think that’s exactly what you are?” I stabbed a finger at his emaciated chest. “A coward and likely a paedophile. I was fifteen, you arsehole. But I’m not that kid anymore. I’ve become so much more, and I’m fucking proud of who I am, something you will never, ever be.”

“You know nothing about me,” he blustered.

“I know enough,” I spat, turning my back to put some distance between us so I didn’t throw a fist. “And if you aren’t going to put my family right about what happened, then why the hell did you want me here?”

He fell quiet, his jaw working as he continued to glare at me with those milky eyes. But some of that initial bravado had gone. Pride swelled in my chest. I wasn’t that kid anymore. He hadn’t broken me. And now the fucker knew it.

Finally, he spoke. “Believe it or not, I did actually want to apologise... to you, at least.” He held my gaze. “I’m sorry. I was messed up back then. Things haven’t always been easy... for me. You were a good kid and I... I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you. I just wanted to tell you that before I carked it. Set things right.”

“Easy for you? Set things right?” I huffed in disbelief, the apology sliding off like the self-indulgent gesture it was. James didn’t care about me. This was all about him. “Was I the only one, James?” I asked the question that had been plaguing me for years and his hesitation was all I needed to hear. “Jesus Christ, I wasn’t, was I?”

“No, it was never like that.” There was a desperate edge to his voice. “There were other... men, yes. But all... legal. I swear.”

I threw my hands up. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better? How old are we talking, James? Sixteen? Seventeen? Were they members of the church? I was your fucking nephew, James, and that didn’t stop you trying to kiss me. Why should I believe anything you say?”

“They were all of age. It’syouI’m apologising to. Do I wish it had never happened? Of course I do. I’m sorry I fucked up. I’m sorry you lost your family. I’m sorry for crossing those lines. I’m sorry for all of it.”

The worst of it was, I almost believed him. Almost. Then I remembered Leon describing what a genuine apologyshouldhave been. No strings. No manipulation. And being accountable.

My voice rose again in anger. “But not sorry enough to tell my family the truth. To actually do something that would make a difference.” Then I remembered what he’d said and suddenly everything made sense. I started backing away, sickened by his presence. “This is about you trying to clear your conscience for wherever it is you think you’re heading when you die, isn’t it? This is about the damn church.” I laughed, suddenly done with him. “Good luck with that, sunshine. I doubt your God is going to see things your way. I hope you rot in hell—”

“Christopher!” I froze at the sound of my mother’s voice, spinning to find her standing in the kitchen doorway, red-faced with anger, my father at her back. “Don’t you dare speak to your uncle like that.” She stormed straight past and headed for James, securing the oxygen mask to his face. “You can see how sick he is.”

My father, silent as ever, made his way to the couch and sat looking at me like I was something the cat dragged in. George followed, coming to a stop just inside the lounge, his gaze nervously skittering across my face. I rolled my eyes, barely able to stomach seeing his face after learning he’d been discussing my life with James.

And as for James, he never took his eyes from mine as my mother fussed around him. I arched a brow, my gaze sweeping the room, my meaning crystal fucking clear.Here’s your last opportunity, arsehole.But he looked down and tightened the elastic on his mask instead.

I shook my head and stared around the room, taking in my so-called family one by one. And like the sun breaking a heavy cloud, I realised I didn’t have a single fuck left to give anymore. I’d said what I came to. I couldn’t force James to speak the truth or my family to believe me. And I wasn’t even going to try.

I had a good life, a great one. I had friends who cared about me. A boyfriend who loved me. A life I wouldn’t swap for anything. And I was done letting these arseholes screw with my head and fuck up my future. One look at my messed-up mother fawning over her arsehole brother while ignoring her son who she hadn’t seen for ten years; my father studying me with contempt; my brother standing silent, as usual; and it hit me like a drowning man coming up for air.

I was done.

I didn’t want them or need them in my life.

“Well, what have you got to say for yourself?” The look of patent disgust on my father’s face as he clocked my outfit was almost enough to make me smile. I cocked my hip just to piss him off.

“I’ve said all I need to.” I answered curtly, putting as much disdain into my tone as I could manage, to match the look on his face. “I’m leaving. But in case you’d forgotten, it was James who asked to see me, not the other way around. Maybe you should think about that,Dad.”

My father huffed his disapproval. “You should have told us you were coming. He’s not well enough to cope with your dramatics.”

“Oh, he did just fine.” I cast an amused glance James’ way. “Didn’t you,Uncle? Anything you want to say while we’re all here?”

I caught George’s frown as he looked between us.Yes, brother, just fucking think about it.

“Uncle James?” George ventured in an uncertain tone.

“Christopher, stop it,” my mother interrupted.

I ignored her and focused instead on James’ nervous sweep of the room before his eyes landed back on me, and I warmed at the lick of fear I saw there.

“I guess that’s a no.” I kept my gaze steady on his. “Shame. Not sure the doors of heaven are going to be open for you after this, but there you go. Still, I’m glad I got to let you know what a fucked-up piece of shit you are—”

“That’s enough.” My father lunged forward just as a huge shadow fell across the sunlit floor and stopped him in his tracks.

CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO

Leon

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