Page 90 of The Deception You Weave
I clean him up, cover some of his worse cuts with sutures before tending to his wrists which look horrendous with lacerations the whole way around. I hate that they're like it because of me, because he was trying to protect me.
"I'm so sorry, Dad." The words fall out without my knowledge, and he looks at me in disbelief.
"Oh, sweetheart. This is so not your fault. The reason I was there was entirely my fault. Victor was punishing me. He thought I was going against him and he used you as leverage into scaring me into confessing."
"No," I say, shaking my head. "I was there because I failed at a job he gave me." I can't look him in the eyes as I say the words, yet I feel his disappointment coming off him in waves.
"Scarlett, no. Why? Why would you do that?"
My eyes snap up to his. "Because of you. Because of all of you. He was going to hurt you if I didn't do it."
"Well—" he starts but I cut him off.
"Clearly, I had no idea you worked for him at the time. I had no reason to believe you had anything to do with the freaking gang lord, Dad. What the hell were you thinking?"
"The exact same thing you were. I had to protect my family."
"There had to have been another way."
He opens his mouth to respond but only a rush of air comes out before he shakes his head.
"I was about to lose everything, Letty. The business, the house, everything I'd worked years for because of that accident."
"I-I know, but Victor Harris? Surely you could have got a loan from somewhere else, found another buyer."
"I tried. No one was interested in a garage that barely got by. But he made me an offer I couldn't refuse."
"To become his fucking puppet?" I snap.
Dad's lips twist in frustration at my language but I don't apologize for it. We're far past the point of that happening right now.
"I couldn't see another way. Your mom had her dream to get out of here and I wanted it, Let. I wanted it so fucking bad for all of you. I figured I could do a few years, make a bit of money, and then we could all leave together. Get the family life we always wanted."
"But we left without you," I whisper, remembering all too well the day we waved goodbye to him and drove away to begin our new lives in Rosewood.
Leaving him behind was one of the hardest things I've ever done. As a kid, I had the happiest parents. They never fought, and I was always one-hundred percent convinced that they'd go the distance. But then the arguments started not long after Dad's accident and everything began to change for us. It's all making so much sense now.
"Did Mom know?"
"At the beginning, no. But it didn't take her long to learn the truth." A sad smile curls at his lips, the love I remember all too well for my mother appearing in his eyes. "She was so mad. I literally thought she was going to kill me."
"Jesus, Dad," I mutter, pushing the first aid box away and looking at his broken face.
"I'm so sorry. I just wanted you all to have the world and—"
"I get it. I know your intentions were good. Good but stupid," I quickly add. "What happened? Why couldn't you come with us? Start over as a family like you planned?"
"I naïvely overlooked something. You don't just walk away from Victor Harris and the Hawks. Especially not when you have all the knowledge about their shipments and their supply chain. I signed my own death certificate by selling my soul to the devil. So I had to let you all go and pay for my mistake."
"You still love her, don't you? The fighting, the harsh words, it was all—"
"I'll love your mother until the day I die, Scarlett. She's the most incredible woman I've ever met. She's so clever, so strong, so…" He trails off thinking about her. "You're just like her, you know." He reaches for my hand, wincing in pain as he squeezes it. "You have the same strength, the same determination. You're going to do something really incredible with your life, I just know it."
His words have a ball of emotion forming in my throat that becomes harder and harder to swallow around.
"I ended up in the exact same place as you, are you really sure about that?"
"What did he ask of you?"
