Page 109 of Severed Rivalry
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endgame
Sariah
“More coffee?” Cian lifts the carafe at me in invitation.
I shake my head. “Nah. I’ve had plenty. I want to check on Rosie.”
The look on Cian’s face is not the playful, happy, sated one from earlier. We’re firmly in reality again.
The raid yesterday is all over the news. My name is too. That would be terrible, but adding my work ID photo to the news stories online and on TV is the straw that broke the overprotective camel’s back.
Cian paces and texts with his brother. Liam came and went already this morning. Apparently, the man doesn’t sleep because he was here last night when I had the awkward, miserable conversation with my too-young daughter about porn. We discussed the industry, how and why it makes so much money.
I made sure to mention the exploitation of young girls and boys and why she has to be smart and loud and always on guard. I also forced a conversation around the pictures on her app, not mentioning the cameras, but holding my phone and shaking it like I received them too.
I told her that there were things as a kid that I was exposed to that I didn’t want for her, and while she calls me overprotective, I take that as a badge of honor if the alternative is risking her.
I told Renée that me doing the right thing also meant I lost myjob and that I put a target on my back with an industry and a group of people whose radar I never wanted to be near. I also brought up that I’d be more overprotective because that target expands out and I’d inadvertently done what I never would’ve ever wanted, exposed her too.
“I don’t want to start over again.”
“Me either, Née. But that means you have to trust me. You have to trust that everything I do is for your safety and life and happiness. I know you’re almost fourteen and it sucks to not be free to do anything and everything you want. But either you trust me, or we have to make a new life.”
Liam jumped in, uninvited, I might add, and told us both that running wasn’t an option. It was an option for someone else, but we had a family that would protect us and to ‘get over it.’
I glared at him. He glared right back. His glare is way scarier.
He said little else from his perch in Cian’s living room as he worked a laptop and a cell phone like some chefs do knives. That is to say, with precision and ease.
I finally said goodnight after Renée did and got a nod in return. No one would describe him as loquacious.
“Thanks.” Cian’s head shifts up. “Does the name Freddie Gauthier mean anything to you?”
“Not at all.” I say before heading down the hall to the guest room where my daughter is doing homework. “Hey. Has RoRo ever mentioned someone named Freddie to you?”
“I’ve heard her say that name when she’s on the phone.”
“Anything else?”
She shrugs. People’s lives are in the balance and my teenager seems completely unbothered. At least my overprotective nature is working.
I sigh and shut the door, returning to the kitchen. Cian starts the dishwasher and turns, leaning a hip on the counter. “Anything?”
“She says she’s heard Rosie say the name on the phone. I wish I knew more.”
“Or wish we knew less.” He folds the towel and sets it near the sink before leaning on the island. “Freddie Gauthier is anaddict. He was an addict. I don’t know the verbiage. He’s struggled with drugs and alcohol, though the best I can tell he’s clean now. He’s a genius, but not the kind with an easy life. Seems every chance for something to go wrong for him, it does.”
“Like?”
“Like losing both of his parents in a tragic accident as a kid. Like barely finishing high school due to a terrible pot habit. Like dropping out of Juilliard.”
“How do you get into a school as prestigious as Juilliard and not do everything you can to finish there? It’s the ultimate door opener for a creative.”
“If creatives thought that way. Anyway, he’s come and gone from the center both inpatient and outpatient. Seems he’s tight with Rosie. Does that strike you as odd?”
“What’s odd is anybody who feels that way about her that she’s never told me about. Either out of love or out of fear.”
