Page 143 of Waiting For A Girl Like You
“Fine. They mourned her. But no one fought for her.”
“Yes, they did!”
He dropped his spoon into the bowl, the full force of his menacing glare striking her. “If they did, she never knew it. Cecilia lived her whole life thinking she was the one not worth saving.”
Jamison mimicked his move, her metal spoon clanging loudly against the ceramic. “My dad and Simone honestly thought Charlie had gotten his shit together and was giving them a good life.”
“He tried. Charlie did giv—”
Michael sucked in a sharp breath, wincing as he closed his eyes and rubbed his left temple. The look of pain on his face had goosebumps breaking out across her arms, and she lowered them from the table so he wouldn’t see.
There was more going on here.
“Charlie did give them a good life in the beginning,” Michael said, regaining control of whatever pain had seized him. “They were happy.”
“So, what happened?”
“Bryan,” he bit out. “He’s one of those individuals who can’t stand not to own everything. Land. People. He needled his way into their lives and used his daughter to gain the upper hand. The villa Charlie lived in with the kids was next door to Bryan Carroll’s place, and being greedy, he wanted to expand.”
Since he was willing to talk, she pushed. “Toby said Cecilia helped him kill Charlie.”
“Not true.” Michael leaned back in his chair, his expression now devoid of pain. “But by the end, Charlie had it coming. He was using again. Drinking himself into oblivion after losing everything to Bryan. It made him violent.”
“Did Cecilia help Toby kill the others?”
“Some she did.” His voice dropped lower. “But not how you’re thinking. She wasn’t there when the murders happened, but she cleaned up after him.”
Jamison tried to mask her revulsion. “Where do you come in?”
Michael paused, then turned toward one of the bookshelves, staring at the spines like they held the answer. “Miami. I met her at a coffee shop. And I just… knew.”
“You just knew what?”
She expected him to say he just knew he wanted her because she was beautiful or that he just knew she would accept his work because he could sense something in her. Or perhaps that he knew Cecilia Miller held the same warped sense of life and death as he did.
But Michael Sinclair didn’t say any of that.
“I knew she was the other half of my soul,” he exhaled. “Just standing there in front of me in a coffee shop line. It was the strangest thing. Like a scene in a movie playing out.” He released a short laugh. “And once I saw her, I did the most bizarre things to gain her attention. I played the part of a lovesick fool, but it wasn’t an act. It was real. I would’ve done anything to have her.”
Jamison kept silent. The first thing Liam ever taught her was that it was easy to gain information when a person was left to wander through their thoughts and memories. Half the time, the world was too loud, and humans—the selfish beings that they are—were forever too concerned with themselves to stop and listen.
“I didn’t know about Toby at first. But when I met him…” Michael shook his head. “I felt it. Evil. He’s evil as hell, and Taylor’s worse. It took me forever to convince Cecilia to leave them.”
“Why wouldn’t she leave them?”
“She thought she was protecting your family.” Michael’s face scrunched in pain once more, but only for a second. “Toby wanted to go back to Haven House right after college. But Cecilia and Taylor talked him into doing the Miami internship with his friends. Cecilia did it to keep him away from all of you. Taylor did it because she was tired of the islands and thought Miami would be the place where she might finally bediscovered.”
Jamison snorted. “Taylor thinks very highly of herself.”
He shared a small smile with her. “That she does.”
There was a knock at the door, and Michael rose to answer. He cracked it an inch, but it was enough for Jamison to hear Bruce speaking, although she couldn’t make out what was being said.
“Eugene and the last six arrive tomorrow,” Michael said. “So, it’ll work. And if it doesn’t, we’ll leave the hard way. Tell Smitty and Paul, then get back to Kris. I don’t want one of these assholes trying to wander into her room tonight.”
The door clicked closed, and Jamison folded her hands into her lap, waiting patiently. The information he’d been willing to share was invaluable, and she needed him to continue. It would matter one day.
As he turned back to her, Michael paused, the color draining from his face. Staring past her for a long minute, his throat worked as he swallowed.
