Page 111 of Twisted Truths
“She said if anything happened to her, I needed to save her baby.”
My throat tightens, but I don’t show it. I can’t. Not with him.
A million thoughts are running through my head, but the main one is why she went to Dalton and not Mum, Paul, or even Levi.
“She was scared,” Dalton continues. “Paranoid.”
I scoff. “So naturally, she went toyou.”
He shrugs. “Your sister was always coming to me when any of you stuffed up. Looking for someone to fix it. You, Levi, Zara. Seems you were all incapable of getting through life without the help of your old man.”
“I didn’t need anything from you,” I spit.
“Oh, no?” the smug bastard grins like the cat who got the cream. “Are you forgetting the little joyride you and your mates took in the team bus in high school? Aren’t you wondering how said bus ended up back in the parking lot with no damage? Not to mention the idiot move of tying your brotherto the basketball ring overnight. Your sister came to me to save your arse from getting expelled.”
Damn it, Zara.
“And I bet you loved that. I bet it made you feelrealimportant.” I can’t hide the snark in my tone. “So, why didn’t you help her?”
“It wasn’t my fault she went into that cult and got knocked up with her bastard child. I warned you as kids to stay away from them. If she chose to ignore that warning, that’s on her. They’re welcome to your sister’s mistake.”
“That mistake is your grandson!” I shout, unable to contain my rage. “Unbelievable. You turned your only daughter away at her time of need and sent her home to her death, then you just wash your hands of it all and expect me to be okay with that.”
“You and your brother are so high and mighty, but have you stopped to ask yourself why she never came to you for help?”
Every goddamn day.
“The difference between you and me, Dalton, is that I will doanythingfor my family. Zara’s baby will not suffer at the hands of the Circle because his own flesh and blood is too heartless to fucking save him.”
His face goes slack. “Don’t do anything stupid, son. Get on the first flight back to Boston and forget this town and all its ghosts. Your sister paid the ultimate price for her mistakes, but you’ve got too much on the line to get caught up with that cult.”
Too late.
“Get out,” I say with no emotion. I’m done. This man is dead to me.
He frowns. “Nash?—”
“I won’t ask again.”
Dalton stands and moves to leave but hesitates in the doorway. “You know your problem?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me, and I know I’m not going to care.”
His jaw clenches at my insolence.
“You’re too soft,” he grits out. “A bleeding heart, like your mother. That woman coddled you until you mistook emotion for strength.”
I stare at him, letting his words hang in the air.
He says it like it’s a flaw. Like empathy is something to be ashamed of.
When I give him nothing, Dalton continues. “Paul was no role model. The man was pathetic, and weakness breeds more weakness. I might have ridden you, but at least I gave you something to strive for. They let you grow up thinking you could save everyone and fix everything.”
“I’d rather be like them than anything like you,” I mutter.
He sneers, stepping forward. “Look at you, ready to throw away your future, your career, hell, your dream, chasing ghosts and fairy tales. Christ, next you’ll tell me that chick you’re fucking is someone special. Forget about her, forget about your sister and her bastard child. Concentrate on basketball and making someone of yourself. You’re on the precipice of something huge. Don’t throw your life away to clean up your sister’s mess. The kid’s probably better off where he is.”
I don’t say anything.
