Page 15 of Ward

“What happened?”

“Let’s just say my overly sensitive co-worker didn’t appreciate my sense of humor, and neither did my boss.” He twists his mouth into a smirk. “But that means I’m free to come work for you now.”

“We aren’t hiring,” I say firmly.

The waitress sets our coffees on the table. I hand her a twenty and tell her to keep the change.

“Probably for the best,” Liam says. “It would be a flagrant case of nepotism. Plus, I’m guessing most of your employees don’t know you’re a father, or a sexual deviant. Or a rapist, for that matter.”

My gaze narrows over the rim of my coffee cup. I don’t know if sadism is hereditary, but I’m convinced he takes genuine pleasure in recounting my crimes every chance he gets. If it weren’t for the fact that this fucked-up situation is all my fault, I wouldn’t be sitting here. I’m well aware it’s the guilt that brings me back to this table month after month.

Guilt for what I did to Liam’s mother. Guilt for not shielding my son from his mother’s misplaced hatred.

“Anywho,” he says. “What’s new with you, Father?”

“Nothing. Same old same old.” It’s the only answer I ever give him. But this week, I have a very good reason for giving it. I don’t want Liam to know about his cousin.

If Grace is a ray of sunshine on a patch of frozen earth, Liam is the unforeseen frost that strangles your crops. I want to avoid any situation in which she could be subjected to his brand of malice.

Selfishly, I’d prefer if she never learned the truth about what happened all those years ago. I could barely take the look on her face when she thought I’d hit a woman in anger. If she somehow discovered I unintentionally forced myself on someone, it would destroy me.

I redirect the conversation toward a topic I know Liam will appreciate.

“How are you for money?” I ask.

He adopts a woeful grimace. “Losing that dishwashing job was a serious blow to my income. I’m not sure how I’ll make it through the next month.”

For all his digs about me trying to buy his affection, he has no qualms about accepting my charity. “I’ll have my assistant transfer funds to your account.”

He lifts his coffee in a gesture of cheers.

“I can always count on you, father.”

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