Page 124 of Lies Like Love

Grandmother grips her skirt, wrinkling the fabric. Her nails twist the silk with whatever she’s thinking. But while she looks anxious, Grandfather doesn’t so much as blink. He taps his index finger on his glass once, maintaining his cool expression.

“You’ll have to elaborate.” He takes another sip.

I smooth my fingers over my thighs, trying to find my spine. My grandparents have never been the warmest people, but I don’t think they would try to hurt me.

“Was Mom aware of why Jude’s father wanted to marry her?” I cut straight to the point like it can take the sting away.

Grandfather doesn’t even pause. “Yes.”

His expression is stoic. There’s not so much as a flicker of emotion behind his response.

“And she was okay with it?”

“You have to understand—”

“Tabitha,” Grandfather cuts her off, and she frowns at him, but she doesn’t argue as she sits back and crosses one ankle over the other.

He taps his whiskey glass with his pinky finger once more, before taking a long drink, watching me the entire time. The air feels thicker than ocean sand saturated with all things trying to pull me under.

He sets the empty glass on the table in front of him. “Your mother knew what she was getting into. The market was struggling, and she found a solution to help the family.”

“So you knew?” My throat closes in on the words.

“I assumed Jude told you as much.” He narrows his gaze. “He’swhere these questions are coming from, correct?”

I nod, swallowing any illusions they were in the dark about what was happening. They weren’t. My whole life I’ve been a puppet for profit.

“But why?”

It’s a pointless question. If they were aware of what Mom had gotten us into—of what Jude’s father was using her for—and they still let it happen, is there really an explanation I’d accept?

“She knew what had to be done for the good of the family.” Grandfather says. “Everyone has to make sacrifices.”

“She used me.” I can’t breathe. “They had photos, videos. I wasn’t even legal.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not saying I condone his sick preferences. He’ll pay for those sins eventually. But he never touched you, she assured me of it.”

His tone is cold, uncaring. Like the fact that I wasn’t physically touched makes it acceptable. How many times does a person have to tell themselves something in order to believe it? Because as I look between the two of them sitting in front of me, I swear they do. They justify what they did for the lifestyle.

They might not have approved of Mom’s choice in a husband, but he bled more money than Wall Street.

“He violated me,” I say, even if my argument is lost in the black hole of this room. “They both did.”

“That’s a stretch.” Grandfather sits up straighter, looking like he actually believes his statement. “You’re young, Felicity. Live long enough, and you’ll understand we all have to pay debts to stay afloat. They aren’t always pleasant. Besides, everyone has their vices. Of all people you should know that. After all, you always did have eyes foryour stepbrother.”

“That’s not the same.” Jude and I are no more family now than we were back then.

We were pawns in a bigger game they were playing. There was no love between them, it’s clear now. And what did exist is long gone.

“Some would disagree.”

I have to grip the couch not to scream. “You’re making excuses for her.”

“She’s our daughter, we loved her. Just as she loved you.”

A laugh bursts out of me. “Clearly, she didn’t.”

“She did.”

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