Emily (Daughters, Book #4) (Daughters Series)

by Leanne Davis

  “I know.” Whatever they’re doing is different than what I usually witness from them. An edgier, almost flirty banter volleys between them, like a dance. And I hate to admit it, but it’s kind of sexy. I cringe at the thought, but it is.

  Dad rubs his hands together and glances around. His voice is low when he starts. “So you know how we met. I’m not sure you understand that fully. What are your questions, Emily?” He glances specifically at my mom. “Jess, do you want to stay for this explanation?”

  She nods and my stomach twists. I hate asking, but can’t deny my undying need to know. To fully understand it all. “Do you think the kidnappers intended to sell Mom?”

  “Of course.” He meets each of our gazes. “I think that’s exactly what their intent was. I was lucky to arrive in time. I got her out and killed four men while doing so. One I slashed the throat of in the cell they kept her in. Another man almost caught us on the stairway as we were climbing up to get to the roof. I snapped his neck. We made it to the roof and cowered there for a few minutes. Some more guards came onto the roof looking for us. I shot those two. Then we made it out of the building and escaped to the motel, which you all now know about.”

  It’s deathly silent. Mom’s hand grips her thigh so tightly, the whites of her fingers show. Dad speaks in a calm, unemotional monotone. His gaze lands on me.

  “You did all that? You… you slashed a man’s throat?”

  He nods. “I did, Emily.” He doesn’t qualify it or try to excuse it. There’s so little emotion. A chill runs down my back.

  “But they deserved it. Every one of them deserved that fate, not just a few,” Melissa exclaims.

  I—I don’t know. I don’t know. It’s all so violent. I don’t know.

  Dad continues, “We came home. You know most of that. But a few years later, I got out of the Army. That’s when I went after them. I knew a guy down there and I asked him to gather some supplies for me. He did, for a price. I had some weapons and a few small bombs. I didn’t actually blow up the place as I intended to but merely detonated a few mortars, which were strategically placed to ignite the entire warehouse on fire.”

  “How… who taught you how to do that?” Christina’s eyes are as big as the rest of ours.

  “Years of Army training. I was well-versed in all of that. I just applied the skills that my government taught me and made it a personal mission.”

  “But it wasn’t a mission! It was arson… murder…”

  “I don’t know.” He looks me in the eye. Clearly, there is no shame or sorrow. “I don’t know if I murdered them. I knocked out a few guards. I broke some bones and beat the man to a bloody pulp because he was the leader and therefore, in complete control of your mom’s welfare. He abused his control. I had to do that. The only reason that man might still be alive today is because your mom made me promise I would not murder anyone deliberately. That is the only reason. So, to be clear, I was fully prepared to take his life. I did, however, leave enough evidence in case any decent law enforcement investigated the fire. I wanted them to find and see the extent of the illegal activities going on there.”

  “After you started multiple fires to burn the building up?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you find out? You know, if anyone died or investigated it or… or anything?”

  He shrugged. “I came home and we moved to Ellensburg. We were tired by then. So tired of rape and Mexico and the after affects, as well as the Army. We wanted to seek a new way of living and chose to leave it behind in order to find something normal. It’s all we ever wanted for each other.” He glances at my mom and she presses her lips together in a small smile of reassurance as she nods. “I think, I hope, we managed to provide what we were seeking for you girls.”

  I stare back and forth at my parents who suddenly seem like strangers. “But you still don’t want to know? Neither of you?”

  They share a long eye lock. Mom answers. “No. We really don’t want to know. What could come of it? We learn someone died? Or didn’t? Part of me wants to confirm the first option and part of me wants to confirm the second. So, no. I don’t want to know. We don’t have to feel guilty or disappointed this way. It wasn’t you. You don’t know what this is like to live through and I’m referring to both of us. So before you judge us, remember it wasn’t easy to live through.”

  “As I told you before, I’m glad you did it. I hope they all died,” says Melissa.

  “Me too,” Christina adds, nodding. “I always believed they were dead.”

  Dad shrugs. “I’m not as badass as you think,” he says to Christina. Then to me, he adds, “And as a criminal, maybe I’m even more evil than you ever imagined, huh?”

  His tone is gentle, but I see the glimmer of sadness in his gaze. He shakes his head. “It’s okay, Emily. I don’t expect you to understand or forgive me. You don’t have to. What I did was wrong. Illegal. But worse, on so many levels, it was immoral. I know that. I understand how totally wrong it was.” He smiles gently and then adds, “But I’d do again. That’s the part you might not be able to forgive, Emily. I know that hurts you and changes the man I used to be in your eyes, but I had to do it in order to live with the man that I am. I had to. It wasn’t your mom’s plan. It was mine. All mine.”

  “She can’t judge,” Mom insists.

  “She can, actually,” he says softly. “But we can’t ask you not to tell anyone. I did what I did. I won’t admit it to anyone outside of this room. But I am admitting it to you four. You now have all the information. You girls obviously sensed there was far more to the story.”

  “No, she cannot,” Mom stands up again. “This is my life. This whole event centers on my life and she will not fuck with it. Too many people have. I will not stand by and have my own daughter do it, too. He saved me. He rescued me. Do you understand that? I would not be here if not for this man, and therefore, neither would any of you. How dare you question whether he’s a good man? He’s the best man. A hero! He apologizes to you and asks you not to tell anyone? Fuck, no! Fuck, no! We don’t need your judgment about things that happened long before you were born and will continue between us long after you move out! This is ours. The good. The bad. And the evil of it. Ours. Not yours. And it is not open to your opinion. I will not stand for it.”

  “Jessie,” Dad says softly as he gets up. She’s crying and he puts his arms around her. “She’s not an enemy, honey. She’s our daughter. Just asking questions to try and make sense of things she can’t imagine.”

  “He’s a hero,” Christina says to me. “I won’t tell anyone. Not even Max.”

  Melissa nods, wiping the tears in her eyes. “Completely. And neither will I. The decision to divulge anything belongs to both of you and only you can decide what to do with it. It might be our family secret, but it’s still yours, as far as I’m concerned.”

  I stare at my hands and glare around the room. “It’s not like I’ll go to the police or anything. I just… I don’t know how to celebrate a slashed throat or a burned-up building.”

  “How about a ripped vagina and battered breasts?” Christina replies softly. Mom whimpers and puts her head on Dad’s arm. “I think they’re just asking you not to write something that isn’t yours to tell.”

  I stare at my fingers. “I know. I won’t. I get the message.”

  “Enough for tonight. Why don’t you guys order room service and leave us alone? Please?” Dad asks.

  I shuffle out with my sisters who are both deathly quiet. They take a bed together, I get it. I’m being ostracized for making Mom so upset. “Want anything?” Christina asks me. I decline. My stomach is roiling in knots. I lie on the bed, staring out the window. The view overlooks the hotel’s pristine grounds. Tears fall on my pillow. I suspect tonight I’m not the only one crying.

  I want to go home. Now. I want nothing more than to return home so I can put this into context without feeling like my life is being flipped upside down. I hope I can find a way to recognize the r
eal me, and mostly, who my real dad is.

  Chapter Fourteen

  ~Emily~

  I am so glad to see Ramiro. He’s hard at work when I show up in Ellensburg two mornings later. He’s installing the vents in a new construction single-story building that’s going to be a large daycare. My heart hammers hard in my chest. I’m exhausted emotionally. Physically, however, I can’t wait to get to work.

  It was a long trip home and very quiet between all of us. None of the incident was mentioned and my sisters returned to their respective men, Seth and Max. I’m alone with my parents now. We move around each other, and share the space, but I do not fail to notice a distinct coolness which I can’t even contemplate how to thaw.

  Ramiro doesn’t see me for several moments. I crawl into the space where he’s working. He glances up, surprised when he finds me right next to him.

  “Hey,” I say softly.

  His smile is instantaneous. He leans forward and plants his lips on mine in a quick kiss. “Hey.”

  I don’t mean to, but suddenly throw myself at him. I wrap my arms around him and start to cry. I’m that emotional. All of it hits me at once. His surprise is evident as he holds me, patting my back, and rubbing his lips on my hair. “What is it?”

  “Things…” I shake my head, unable to speak. “So many things happened with my family. I—I flew down to Mexico.”

  “You what?” his mouth drops open. “It’s only been a few days since I last spoke to you.”

  “Four days. Quite an eventful four days. My entire family showed up to get me. They brought me home. I won’t be writing anything.”

  I can’t tell him anymore. His entire body goes taut. It’s kind of strange, actually. “What do you mean?”

  I wipe my eyes. “I went down there to take pictures and try to get a sense of where it happened. And then Mom showed up. It was so emotional and hard. She and my dad made a pretty strong case for abandoning my endeavor to write her story.”

  His expression is off. He looks almost stricken, but why? He shoves me back and runs his hands through his hair.

  A voice yells something into the vent. It’s Trey, the foreman. I wipe my eyes. Work. I’m at work and it’s time to start.

  We emerge from the corridor.

  “What’s he want?” Trey asks Ramiro. Ramiro glances towards where Trey indicates. Three Hispanics are standing there. They see Ramiro and speak to him in Spanish.

  I glance up. I have no idea what they said. I nudge Ramiro. Waiting for him to answer and tell us what transpired. He glances at me and then up at his boss. His eyeballs dart all around. “Well?” I hiss. “What did they say?”

  The foreman’s foot is tapping as he waits for an answer.

  He shrugs. “What the hell are you asking me for?”

  “The obvious. I don’t understand Spanish,” Trey says impatiently.

  “Well, I don’t either,” Ramiro answers, his tone grumpy. He crosses his arms over his chest, as his jaw locks up and eyebrows lift as if it say, so what?

  My jaw feels like it could unhinge when it drops open. Did he just say that? I can’t… I can’t process the words. “Bu—but you’re from Mexico. You—”

  “I was born and raised in Mount Vernon, Washington. English is my first language. The language of my country. And my place of birth. And my citizenship.” His voice is like nothing I’ve ever heard from him before. Rude and forceful, the cold gleam in his eyes and tightened jaw makes him look like a stranger. Someone has taken over Ramiro’s body and tongue.

  I can’t mask my astonishment. He’s got to be kidding me. I force my mouth closed, then open it again, like a fish out of water gasping for air. I can’t… I can’t process it fast enough.

  I grab his arm and tug, pulling, no, dragging him away from the man. I whip around. “What the hell are you talking about? Have you been lying to me this entire time?”

  “Yes,” he states softly. “I might have lied. And played into the stereotypes you expected. But then again, why would you just think that now?”

  “You were born in Washington State?”

  “Yes. My dad came over the border some thirty years ago now. He made his way eventually to Western Washington where he met my mom and she had me. My mom was a second generation American. I’m third. We only spoke English at home and I never learned Spanish. My father tried to speak it with me but out of spite, I refused to learn it. Well, that’s not all true. I took two years in high school to fulfill the college requirement. So Hola, mi nombre es is about all I remember. Well, I suppose I could give you a rundown of colors, numbers, and the alphabet. My mom insisted I act American at all times if only to contradict the stereotypes we would inevitably face. It’s not too helpful. Everyone assumes I speak Spanish. No one asks me. Never occurs to anyone I might not have any interest in speaking it, since the language of my native country is freaking English.”

  “Then what—what are you doing here? Working for my dad?”

  “Cash without taxes. Helps pay expenses. I have to live. You offered.”

  “I—offered?” I’m nearly struck dumb. “For what? What reason did you have for doing this?”

  He lifts one side of his mouth up. “For college. To help with my college tuition and living expenses. I don’t have rich parents to support me.”

  I close my eyes briefly. “Y—you’re a student? At Central?”

  “Yep. Halfway through. Just got done with my sophomore year and working on my general requirements. Classes resume September twentieth.”

  “I thought you had no family.”

  “I don’t. My mom died when I was eighteen. My dad passed last year, like I told you.”

  I shove him away from me and swing around. I don’t want to hear what else he has to say. It’s all so ordinary. So simple. All I hear are lies everywhere. Lies with my dad. Lies with Ramiro. Lies with my mom and Melissa, who kept everything a secret.

  Ramiro doesn’t run after me either. I don’t know what to do. His attitude has changed and so abruptly. As soon as I told him I went to Mexico, all of this pops out of nowhere? He’s a college student? I feel so stupid. So humiliated.

  I kick the wall hard enough to make my toes ring with pain. My dad’s over by his truck. I can’t be here right now. I leave without another word. What’s my dad going to do? Fire me? If this is the worst thing I do, who the hell is he to judge me?

  I take off and drive for a while, heading nowhere and having nothing else to do. I notice Harrison’s car and duck my head, quickly turning and hoping he doesn’t see me.

  I wind up at home. The house is empty, of course. Mom is at work. Missy might be home, but she’s probably out training dogs so I can easily avoid her. I turn my phone back on. After being off for so long, it dings and vibrates with all kinds of messages.

  I sigh when I see several from Harrison and listen to a few. They’re just as depressing as Ramiro’s attitude and my dad’s confession. He says things like what a bitch I am and how dare I keep ignoring him. He also insists I have to hear him out, since I owe him, and on and on. I erase them all. Ruffled by his voice filling my house with so much hostility, I stand at the sink, and grab a glass before running the tap. Hearing a knock on the back sliding door, I’m startled. I’m so surprised I nearly drop my glass of water.

  There’s Harrison standing and staring at me. He knocks again, now that he has my attention. Pointing to the door handle, he indicates for me to let him in. My heart beats faster. Why is he at the back door?

  I close my eyes, now exhausted by everything. I walk forward and click the lever down to unlock it as I lift the bar on the end. He opens the door as I step back.

  “How did you know I was back?” I ask wearily.

  “Oh come off it, Emily. I saw your car in town. I saw you duck down and turn away as if to hide from me. As though you think I am blind.”

  “Right.” Creepy. He’s keeping tabs on me? I turn and lean against the back of the sofa. “What do you want?” I cross my arms over my c
hest.

  His chin, so square and tough, tightens. “Why were you gone so long?”

  “Mainly to avoid seeing you. My entire family believes you are harboring a nasty hard-on for me that could result in violence.”

  His face reveals shock first, then anger. “You’ve got to be kidding. They know me. How could they—”

  I sigh. “I don’t know. Perhaps from the endless messages and texts, calling me names, not to mention your physical intimidation.” I am so over this. “What do you want, Harrison? Another apology? More groveling? Because let me tell you, I’m fresh out. I’m done. You can hate me and smear me for the rest of my life, and I won’t even try to stop you, but please. Leave me alone.”

  His brows furrow. “What? Are you dismissing me? Like we’re done? Like you get to decide when we’re done?”

  A spark lights in my brain and I stand up straighter. “Well, I think I already did that when I left you standing at the altar. So, yeah. We’re done and now I’m dismissing you.” I start to pass by him to go to my bedroom, where I intend to lock the door and lie down on my bed and cry. All I can do is cry over my embarrassment with Harrison and my sadness in discovering the man he turned out to be, along with all the things I missed about Ramiro. Maybe that’s what I get for not allowing more time between relationships. Maybe I need to be alone. If only to figure out how to work something out with my dad. Because I still have to deal with him and I will for the rest of my life. But I don’t have to tolerate either of these boys. They are both just silly boys who lie to me and lick their bruised egos, while blaming me for their unhappiness.

  As I start to leave, Harrison hurries after me and grabs my arm. Dismayed, I jerk it away, trying to push him off. “Stop it! I want you to leave. Now!”

  “You can’t just tell me to leave! Do you want me to do what you did to me? You humiliated me. We were supposed to be married and you left me standing up there, in front of everyone we know, all alone. Waiting. As the crowd grew restless, your dad was shooting daggers at me with unspoken questions. Everyone was watching me. For a full twenty minutes, we waited there until your dad put his hand on my shoulder and suggested we go somewhere private. That’s when I had to walk down the aisle alone, with everyone, absolutely everyone, watching me.”