Page 41 of Among the Sins of my Father

“Different how?” He shrugs. “It’s the way of the world. No point in getting bogged down with feeling guilty about it. Besides, I have very little to do with that side of the business, you know that. It’s my job to schmooze potential clients. Sometimes there are pretty women there while I’m doing it.” He shrugs as the fields fade away and the houses become more frequent. “Sometimes there’s not.”

He reaches out to rest his hand on my knee again. He keeps it still this time though, not stroking my flesh with his thumb. The touch burns, but it doesn’t bubble up the same revulsion within me as before.

“That’s not to say I don’t know where our money comes from, or what’s involved in obtaining it, but I just choose not to think about it. You should do the same. Just like you do with a million other things in life. Most of which you’re probably not even aware of.”

I want to fight and argue, but the truth of the matter is I’m too exhausted and I know none of it would matter anyway. It’s not as though Michael is suddenly going to be alerted to the evil of his family’s ways. But it is something I can work on.

I would have thought the adrenaline rushing through me would have kept me awake, but when Michael’s hand joggles my knee, I find we’re parked along the circular driveway in front of his house.

My head starts to shake even before I’ve fully woken. “I don’t want to be here.”

Michael smiles. It’s the same smile that used to make me melt. The same smile I spent hours waiting to receive. Now it just makes me feel sick.

“You haven’t really got a choice, I’m afraid.” He screws up his face as though he’s apologetic. “You’ll be safe here. I’ll keep an eye on you.” The door of the car opens, rising into the air. “Besides, it will give us the chance to hang out again. I think if you get to know me like you used to, you’ll find I’m not the bad guy in this, Everly. I’m the one who just wants what’s best for you.” His smile flashes wider. “You might even grow to like me again. We used to have fun.”

I roll my eyes as he comes to my side of the car and offers his hand to help me out. His eyes dart over me as I stretch my legs out of the car and stand.

“Nice outfit.” He chuckles.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I stride past him. “I didn’t have the time to get dressed as I was violently dragged from my bed, blindfolded and zip-tied as I was being stolen.”

“You’ve always been on the dramatic side, haven’t you?”

He runs to catch up with me as I climb the steps that lead to the entrance of the house. I know where I’m going. I’ve been here before. Just never as a prisoner.

“So where are the cells?” I ask. “Down in the basement? Is that where you’re keeping me.”

“So theatrical,” Michael muses. “Come on, I’ll show you the way.”

He leads me through the house and up the stairs. There’s no one about, no staff, no guards, no family. Just him and me. For a brief second, I toy with the idea of running, but I don’t know who I’d run to, or where I’d go. Most of the people I know in the city are friends of the Gormans, dancers who dislike me, or dead.

“Here.” Michael opens the door to his room.

“Aren’t there enough rooms for me to have one of my own?”

“Yes.” He gently guides me inside, his hand resting on the small of my back. “But this way I can keep an eye on you. We don’t want you running off back to that Priest. He’s not a good man.”

“He’s not a good man?” I scoff. “That’s rich coming from you.”

“You’ve got the entirely wrong picture of me in your mind, Ev.”

I walk over to the window which opens onto the roof and try to pry it open. It’s locked. As are all the windows. Crossing my arms, I stand and stare, looking out where the pool beckons from below. Michael comes up behind me. He stands close, close enough I can feel the heat of him, but not close enough to touch.

“I’m not the bad guy here.” His hand hovers near my shoulder and I take a step away, not wanting him to touch me. “You’ll be safe here. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

I turn around, letting the tears well in my eyes. “But I don’t want to be here.”

Michael tips my chin up. “Give me a chance, yeah? I’m not like them. It’s just a business. It’s got nothing to do with who I am inside.”

He lifts his hands and rests them on my shoulders. Moving his fingers, he scrunches my t-shirt, the material moving up my arms. I jerk away from him again and he sighs loudly.

“Let’s find you something else to wear.”

Instead of leaving the room like I assumed he would, Michael opens one of the drawers of his dresser and starts tossing through clothing, occasionally pulling something out to examine it before discarding it again. Eventually he decides on something and tosses it my way. It’s a summery dress, pale blue with white daisies. It’s innocent and sweet. Something I would have worn back during the time he knew me best.

“Seems like a strange thing for you to have in your drawers.”

“It always pays to be prepared.” Leaning against the dresser, Michael crosses his arms and waits for me to get changed.

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