“What do you want?”
“I assure you, I just want to talk,” he says.
He seems calm. Neutral. Neutral might even mean safe. I glance back at Jodie. She’s watching us from the living room.
“Is everything okay, Clara?” she asks, her arms crossed.
“I think so,” I reply.
“I promise, it is,” Bill politely intervenes. “I just want to talk.”
For a moment, I’m tempted to shut the door in his face. But how much longer can I keep running from the past? If this is the time for me to face it, I might as well do it. I’m pregnant. I’ve got a son with Carter already. If ever there was a turning point that would redefine the way I live out the rest of my days, this might be it.
“We’re okay, Jodie. Would you mind staying in the living room while Bill and I talk in the kitchen?” I finally say.
“That’s cool. Just call if you need me,” Jodie replies.
Slowly, I turn away from the door and head down the hallway leading into the kitchen, Bill quietly following. I give Jodie a quick look, and Bill offers a polite nod as he joins me.
“You look well,” he says.
“What do you want, Mr. Lockwood?”
I stand close to the counter, within reach of the kitchen knives. Part of me fears an attack, the memories of that night still painfully fresh in the back of my head. He never touched me, but I saw what kind of rage hides beneath this seemingly calm demeanor.
I saw what he did to my brother.
“I had no idea you were back in town until I spoke to Margot upon my return,” he says. “Had I known?—”
“You would’ve come sooner to run me out of Blackthorn Falls again?”
He smirks. “Truth be told, I had a mind to do that. I was ready to throw some more money at you, too. Until I heard about Matthew.”
“What about Matthew?” I snap, my blood running ice cold.
“He’s Carter’s boy, isn’t he? And the poor child has the same heart condition that afflicted so many along my wife’s bloodline,” he sighs. “I was devastated to hear about it, but I was also elated to learn that I have a grandson.”
“We want nothing to do with you, Mr. Lockwood.”
“Oh, I know that. And it makes all the sense in the world.” He pauses and gives me a long, stern look. “I never thanked you for your sacrifice that night.”
“My sacrifice?”
“You left. You took your payment, and you left. You could’ve gone to the police or demanded more money, but you didn’t.”
“You made it perfectly clear that nobody would believe me and that you would pull every string in your influence to destroy me. I didn’t have any other choice but to leave, just like I didn’t have a choice but to come back, as well. Things have changed; circumstances have changed.”
“About that trust fund,” Bill says. “I’ve made some inquiries. Discreetly, of course.”
“Inquiries?”
“Yes. And I’m told it’s a generous amount, but not nearly enough to cover all of Matthew’s medical expenses. Post-operative care, follow-up treatments and tests, recovery therapy. Not to mention your living arrangements. You will need to be by the boy’s side 24/7 during his recovery. There will be no time for a job, not even part-time.”
I scoff and shake my head slowly. “I’m well aware of all of that.”
“I’m willing to offer a better solution.”
Nausea works its way up to my throat, but I swallow it back, breaking into a cold sweat as I struggle to keep it together in front of this man, this monster. People might be fooled by the weight of his last name, by his reputation and finely tailored suits, but I see him for who he truly is.