Page 31 of Love Bleeds Red
“What’d you find out?”
I laugh and shake my head. Just like Damon to get straight to the point. “What if I was just calling to say hi?”
“Then I’d have to fly there tonight and take you to get your head examined.”
“Ouch,” I say. “You act as if I don’t like a friendly chat now and again.”
“I call bullshit. What’s going on? Should I get everyone? Put it on speaker?”
I think on it. This is going to be a difficult conversation—telling them what I’ve discovered about my father, possibly revealing pieces of my past I should have shared with them long ago. I draw in a deep breath and release it in one long, steadying stream.
“Yeah, if they’re available they should hear this.” I owe it to them to open up. After letting Mum in and feeling that weight offmy back, I’m surprised how ready I am to unburden myself with more. Not everything, some ghosts aren’t ready to fly free. I only hope they don’t hate me for holding on.
“Jas and Falin just got home. Blake’s here with me.” The phone switches to speaker and I hear Blake’s cheerful voice say hi. She asks me how I’m doing, making idle small talk until I hear the rest of their voices come through.
“Lee!” Jasper booms. “How’s tea land? Eat any beans on toast today? Ow?—”
“I just smacked him,” Falin deadpans. “We miss you. Tell us what’s going on.”
“Wait,” Jasper says. “Do I need to be holding a kitten for this conversation? You know… for emotional support.”
“Ignore him,” Damon says. I can picture the exact exasperated look he has on his face.
“Alright, so long story… well, actually… not really.” I sigh and run a hand down my face, twisting my lip ring. “Let me start over. In short, I found out that Orlov’s working with someone important here in London. A diplomat.”
“That can’t be good,” Blake says softly.
“A diplomat?” Falin asks. “Isn’t your father?—”
Leave it to her to immediately pick up on that correlation.
“Yes,” I admit. “Orlov is somehow connected to my father.” There’s only silence on the other end of the phone. I inhale a cleansing breath, and go on. “I had no idea, of course.”
“Obviously,” Damon says.
“But… I should have known.”
“How is that?” Falin drops her tone. “I mean, you’ve known your father is a pretentious dickhead who treats you like shit… but how the hell does that equate to him being involved in illegal activities?”
“Before I transferred universities and moved to America, he was taking more of an interest in me. In my life, in my education.He’d heard about my tech skills, and was particularly interested in learning more. At first a small part of me was… I don’t know… happy to finally be getting attention from the man that refused to acknowledge me for my entire life. It was almost like the moment I turned eighteen, he decided it was time to be a father figure. He wanted to parade me around to his colleagues. Still does.”
I take a breath, gearing up for the difficult part of the story.
“I agreed to a weekend away. Networking, he called it. There was a part of me that considered seeing what his influence could do for my career, my future. The entire week prior to leaving, my gut was screaming at me to cancel. But I forced myself to go. Mum was ecstatic… I was finally connecting with the man she once loved. The man that tossed her aside like yesterday’s rubbish.”
“Jesus, Lee, that’s some heavy shit,” Damon says when I stop to loose a breath.
“Yeah, with Mum, that’s a whole other story,” I tell them.
“Go on,” Falin says. “Tell us what happened.”
I close my eyes and remember details. “He brought me to some mansion in London. It was fucking massive. Alfred even chose the suits I wore… bought and tailored them for me. Dozens of men showed up. All these old money types—politicians, diplomats, businessmen. At first it seemed normal enough. Expensive booze, cigars, talking about deals and shit. But something felt off with each passing hour.”
I pause, running my hand through my hair. “The women serving drinks... they were young, barely my age. They seemed almost afraid to speak. Alfred told me they were paid escorts, which I thought was scummy enough of those old bastards, but who am I to shame sex workers.”
“By the second night, the men started getting more direct with me. This guy, I don’t even remember his name, keptcornering me. Pushing drinks on me, going on about how boys become men and I need to embrace my birthright. Real creepy shit.”
“Sounds fucking weird,” Jasper’s voice cuts through, all traces of his goofy side gone.
