Page 174 of Burning Daylight
“Since when do you care about being overshadowed?” I ask.
“I don’t, but Freddy knows what’s best.”
“You trust him a lot,” I murmur, guilt hitting me. If he knew Frederick was helping me leave everything, he may not feel the same way.
He looks at me with tired eyes. “He’s never given me a reason not to.”
My gut twists, but I push it down.
I exhale, forcing a calm tone into my voice. “I just thought you’d want to be there with me. To see me at the biggest gala of the year, representing our name.”
He watches me closely, and for just a second, I think I see something. Remorse, maybe. But it’s gone before I can catch it.
“I’ve seen you plenty, Roman.”
“You haven’t,” I argue. “I don’t think you’ve ever really seen me. You’ve only always seen what I can do for you with the Calloways.”
He lets out a dry laugh. “It was never about them, son. It was about ensuring there’d be something left when I was gone.”
“But you never let mebepart of that,” I snap.
His eyes flick up. “I didn’t want to lose you to it.”
“And now here we are.”
The silence stretches.
“I’ve been angry at you for a long time, you know? And I had thought thatfinallymaybe I’d be able to stop carrying it.”
He frowns. “But that’s changed.”
“I know the truth,” I spit out. “About the Badon Hill Gang. About that guy Brutus not really being dead.”
He doesn’t react.
“Youusedme.”
He nods once, like he’s accepting all of the accusations I’m hurling his way.
“I’ve never known how to be a father,” he says after a while. “Barely know how to really be a man. This empire that I inherited…it’s all I’ve ever known how to control.”
There’s a melancholy hint to his tone, and I want to hold on to the anger, but I’m just…tired.
“I’m leaving,” I say.
I move closer, stop at the edge of the rug.
“For good. I won’t be back.”
His fingers twitch slightly on the armrest. “Is that supposed to pain me?”
“No,” I say, quieter now. “I think I stopped trying to hurt you a long time ago. The only thing I care about is figuring out how to haveyoustop hurtingme.”
Finally, he glances at me. His eyes are sunken, rimmed in shadow.
We sit in the silence for a moment, and then he says, “You think walking away makes you better than me?”
“No,” I say. “I think it makes me free of you.”
