by Lizzy Ford
“He’s confessed to hurting you and the other girls, even to the murder of the woman who died.”
“Tanya. They have names.”
“Tanya,” Gerard repeats. “I reached out to parents. She was a good kid and student.”
I’m growing more confused by the moment. Why the hell does Gerard care about Tanya or Madison? I’m out of the house and on my own.
“What’s this about? I can’t believe you asked me here to discuss Madison!” I say.
“I didn’t,” he responds. “I want to talk to you about Robert.”
I cross my arms. “What do you mean?”
“Senator, your security is top notch,” comes an upbeat voice from the direction of the hallway.
“Keith!” Gerard stands and crosses the verandah.
“I haven’t been frisked this thoroughly since the last time I flew commercial.”
My breath catches.
The third place setting belongs to Keith Connor, Robert’s father.
Is this for real? Did my father … uncle just invite the father of the man who raped me to dinner?
I stand, debating whether or not I should just make a run for it. My eyes go to Dom. He’s half facing me, frowning.
“Mia, you’ve grown into a beautiful young woman,” Keith says and kisses me on both cheeks. I’m too surprised to move.
In person, Keith is more enigmatic than how he appears on the television. I understand why people like him – even if I despise him.
“Please, join us,” Gerard says.
The two of them sit.
I’m on edge and clenching my teeth hard enough my jaw is starting to ache. I sit, because I’m not sure what else to do and perhaps because there’s a piece of me that’s morbidly curious about what the fuck these men are doing.
Anger is unfurling inside me. It’s similar to what I felt around Madison. I can’t help wondering what Keith had to have done – or not done – to raise a monster like Robert. Even Joseph turned out better than Robert!
I want to believe Gerard didn’t invite me here for the reason I’m beginning to suspect he did.
The two politicians exchange news about their campaigns and other boring topics I care nothing about. I’m starting to feel like a third wheel at their little party. Appetizers are brought out. I squeeze the cell in my hand, ready to send an SOS to anyone willing to get me out of here.
“Mia and I were discussing Robert when you arrived,” Gerard says.
My focus shifts to him. For a fleeting moment, I’m foolish enough to hope he wants to confront Keith about all that’s happened.
Why do I do this to myself? Allow myself to believe in someone I know I can’t trust?
“Ah, yes,” Keith says and grows serious. “My son’s questionable judgment is one of the reasons he’s in treatment. I wasn’t aware of his drug use. He has a problem, but we’re getting him the best care available.”
“Murder is definitely a problem,” I say before I can stop myself.
“My son had nothing to do with that,” Keith says firmly. “This Madison guy has confessed, I believe?”
“He has,” Gerard replies.
I roll my eyes.
“Robert has alibis for all the incidents except two,” Keith continues. “He wasn’t part of whatever this mess is.”
“He was there the night he attacked me,” I counter.
“Under the influence of drugs, and Madison, which is why he didn’t protect you from Madison like he should have,” is the neat, handy response. “Hence his rehab. He needs help, Mia.”
He needs to rot in prison forever.
“You said he has alibis for all the incidents except two,” I say slowly. I don’t believe that for a second. “Was the night of the murder the second one? I believe Tanya was bludgeoned to death after being gang raped by two men.”
“Mia, darling, this isn’t really an appropriate dinner conversation,” Gerard chides me. “We want to leave the past behind and involve you in the discussion about how Robert can make amends for his lapses in judgment.”
Lapses in judgment.
“Madison has confessed. I believe the police will be content putting him away for murder and for the rest of the incidents,” Keith seconds. “But we want you to be satisfied as well. Whatever you suggest, we can consider. Gerard and I had discussed extensive community service and charitable contributions. We are open to your thoughts. With my resources, Robert can contribute to society in a meaningful way with long lasting effects.”
The moment becomes surreal, as if I’m watching a television show where the man who raised me, and the man who raised Robert, are discussing how to keep a murderer and rapist out of jail. And they have the nerve to claim it’s for the greater good.
Because no one in real life would ask that of someone who’s gone through what I have. It’s impossible, right?
It’s happening right now.
Taking my shocked silence as agreement, or maybe that I’m considering what Robert could do to literally pay for his crimes, the two begin to discuss other ideas and expand on the community service.
I can’t help asking myself what I’d be like, if I hadn’t spent the past three months questioning my existence. If I hadn’t met Dom, Gianna, and the women at the shelter. If I hadn’t had to acknowledge how twisted my family is.
If I hadn’t begun to understand myself to know I’m not the wilting flower Gerard has always taken me for.
Chris never would’ve subjected me to this dinner. He’s been far from the ideal father, but he’s tried and he’s done what he thought was best for me at every turn. I won’t argue he’s always successful, or that I appreciate his efforts many times, but he shows up and does his best.
If not for this summer, would I have spent my life desperate for Gerard’s approval, if I hadn’t learned the truth about who he is and what little I mean to him? I’m a meal ticket – literally. My mama has been paying him off, and he’s hoping to pay me off so Robert Connor can avoid jail time.
Who would I be today, if I hadn’t met Robert Connor three months ago?
The longer I’m involved in this mess, the less my world makes sense. The less this world makes sense. Gerard’s world. The Abbott-Renou political world. It’s not where I want to be. If I had been asked at the beginning of the summer where I’d be in a year, I’d have shrugged and probably said I’d be wherever Gerard wanted me to be.
Faced with the truth behind what this world means and what it does to those involved in it, I can’t help thinking I want to be in the opposite of this world. Whatever the fuck that is, I don’t know. Just not anywhere near here.
This world is part of my past, and I’m done with my past.
“I have an idea,” I say, interrupting.
The two men look at me, probably assuming I’ll play their game, like Joseph or Molly would.
“What if Robert rots in prison for the rest of his life?”
There’s a pause, and then they both laugh.
“Mia, we are looking for ways Robert can contribute to the world in a meaningful way,” Gerard replies.
“You think rehab and community service will make things right,” I mutter. Fury is rising within me, and my hands are trembling.
“We think it’s a positive start,” Keith replies. “I haven’t lost hope in my son becoming the man I know he can be.”
“Just as I’ve never lost hope in you,” Gerard adds.
Did they rehearse this damn discussion? It feels scripted, as if they assume I’m going to let them walk all over me.
At the beginning of the summer, I would have. I would have done anything for Gerard to love me.
I’m struck by the same experience I had with Madison. This seems unreal – and like one of the only times in my life when I’ve been truly self-aware of myself and everything going on around me.
“You want Madison to take the fall,” I say in the silence.
“We want Madison to serve time for his crimes,” Gerard rep
lies.
“My son was an accomplice. This I’ll admit. He didn’t stop Madison when he should have. But, unlike Madison, Robert can be rehabilitated,” Keith adds.
“You want me to lie,” I add.
Keith’s phone rings, taking his focus off me temporarily.
I’m trying to collect my thoughts. I can’t recall any of Dr. Thompkins’ mantras, and for once, I wish I could. Just one, so I could hear his voice in my head, guiding me in the direction of what I should do, or telling me whether or not my feelings in this moment are valid. Because I don’t know that I’ve ever experienced this level of rage. Not with Madison, not after the incident.
Robert and Madison hurt me.
The man I spent my life believing was my father betrayed me.
After a moment, Keith holds out the phone to me.
“Please. He’s been inconsolable,” he states.
What. The. Fuck.
Maybe because I don’t know what else to do, I take the phone.
“Mia.”
Robert’s voice makes me sick to my stomach.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you sitting down with my father to discuss everything,” Robert says. “I heard about Madison. I wanted to apologize to you for … causing you any distress. I should have stopped him from doing what he did, and I didn’t.”
I haven’t felt this level of dissociation with my surroundings since this whole thing started.
I recall the fireflies.
The pain.
I thought I was going to die that night three months ago.
Every day since then, a small part of me wishes I had.
Every woman Robert hurt has felt the same thing, except for the one who died.
She’s the lucky one.
“Is there anything I can say?” he asks, desperation in his voice. “Anything I can do?”
I can barely think. I hate this man. I want him to suffer the way seven other women and I have. I want him to rot in a cell for the rest of his life, and I want Gerard and Keith Connor in the cell beside him.
Keith and Gerard are watching me calmly, expectantly.
“There is one thing you can do,” I say quietly. “Tell me the name of the girl you killed.”
“Madison –”
“Her name.”
Robert hesitates.
He doesn’t know. He killed a woman and didn’t bother to learn who she was.
I hang up and pass the phone back to Keith.
I look toward Dom, who is watching. The same anger I feel is in his eyes. I don’t have to tell him I’m done. The moment I stand, he’s already headed towards me.
“If either of you has anything else to say to me, you can talk to my attorney,” I say to Gerard and Keith.
I want to say more, like to tell them to go fuck themselves, but I’m starting to lose it.
Dom ushers me towards the door. I don’t dare look at his face. I’m infuriated – but also humiliated by ever believing Gerard to be worth me wasting my life to please. No one should have witnessed how bad my family is, especially not Dom. He’s seen me at my worst. He’s now seen my family at its worst.
My emotions aren’t controlled; if anything, they’re about to crack, and all I can think of is being in my safe room when it happens.
We leave the house. The SUV is running and waiting out front. I climb in back, and Dom slides in beside me. Fabio gets in front.
My eyes are blurred, my mind reeling. I want to text Ari and call Chris. My purse slides from my fingers, and I start to hyperventilate.
“Mia.” Dom’s voice is quiet, calm.
I stretch for his hand and clutch it as if he’s the only person who can keep me from drowning. I feel sick. My head is chaos, and I can’t fully put together the pieces of what just happened. Or how it could happen.
Is it a dream? Another in the long list of nightmares I’ve been having for months? Because tonight … tonight is crazy.
He squeezes my hand, and I struggle not to fall apart as we drive back towards my apartment.
I barely notice the drive. Fabio and Dom escort me to my condo. I open the door and enter, still trembling.
“You want me to come in?” Dom asks. Warm concern is in his voice.
I’ve already caused him enough pain and misery. “Yes,” I reply, against every piece of common sense I possess.
He enters and closes the door behind him. “I’ll teach you to punch next time we play basketball,” he says.
“No,” I say.
“No to punching or no to seeing me again?”
I release my breath.
His smile is warm. He’s always kind, always gentle, always sweet, even though I can see the traces of anger remaining in his eyes.
I crack. I want to think it’s from physical pain, but it’s not. I start crying.
Dom’s warm arms circle me, and he hugs me tight. I melt into him, unable to stand up straight on my own. He’s strong, solid, and real when nothing else is.
“It’s okay, Mia,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.”
No one has ever said those words to me before. Certainly no one in my family.
I sob as he holds me. When I’m spent, and I can stand on my own, he helps me to the couch. I look like shit – I have to at this point – but I can’t find it in me to care.
“Chris is on his way,” he says. “He was across town, but he should be here soon.” He sits down at the other end of the couch. He’s quiet, pensive.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I pushed you away because I didn’t want you to deal with the shit I do. Media circus, shitty father who tries to buy you off, security guards surrounding you at all times. And … me. I’m broken.”
“You’re not broken, Mia,” he replies. “You don’t owe me an apology.”
“You’re a good person, Dom. You shouldn’t be involved in any of this.”
“Let me decide where I need to be, okay? Right now, let’s focus on you.”
I slump against the couch. I don’t want to look at him. I know I’m a mess.
“Are you feeling better?” I ask.
“I am, thanks.” He rubs his mouth, the way he does when he’s upset, and leans forward, elbows on his knees. “I don’t know how you’ve gone through everything with a family like that.”
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” My face is hot.
“I’m sorry you’ve had to live that. You deserve better, Mia. I hope you know that,” he says firmly.
“I’m figuring that out,” I say slowly. “I push one of the only good people in my life away and go to dinner with one of the bad ones.”
“I’m still here. I’ll always be here.”
I rest my cheek against the back of the couch and meet Dom’s gaze. I can’t process much of what I feel, except that I’m grateful and relieved to have someone like him in my life.
“You’re the only good thing to come out of all this,” I murmur. “Thank you. I’m sorry I’ve been all over the place.”
He’s seriously upset but smiles. “Really. You have nothing to apologize for.”
I wipe my face. Dom retreats to the kitchen. He returns with a glass of water and a pint of ice cream with a spoon sticking out of it. He really is too good to be true.
I take the ice cream.
The door opens seconds later. It can only be Chris. I don’t bother checking for sure.
“None of you are supposed to be in here,” Chris snaps at Dom.
I want to tell Chris to back off but don’t really have it in me.
Dom leaves, and Chris enters the living area where I’m huddled up in a corner of the couch. He sits on the coffee table in front of me.
“Tell me Gerard didn’t do what I think he did.” His expression is tight with concern and flushed with anger.
“Try to convince me Robert is innocent? Bring Robert’s father to the house and invite me to dinner to discuss keeping Robert out of jail?” I ask and then tell him everything that happened.
Chri
s’ mask slides into place, a sign he’s angrier than he wants me to know. “I’ll have a word with Gerard,” he manages to say after a lengthy pause. “Are you okay?”
“I haven’t been okay in a long time.”
As I say the words, I realize my greatest fear – confronting Robert and Madison again – has happened. I feel distressed but not shattered, and I was able to walk away from both knowing they’re both desperate – and doomed, if I have anything to do with it.
“I’ve dealt with them both and survived. That has to count for something, doesn’t it?” I ask, searching Chris’ features. “Even if I wanted to collapse and die both times?”
“It counts,” he confirms. “You’re stronger than you know, Mia.”
“I don’t feel strong.”
“Trust me. You are. You faced Gerard and Keith at the same time and let them know where you stood. Do you think you could’ve done that before all this?”
“Never,” I admit. “But I’d trade not going through what I have, if it meant I could stay the selfish girl you used to think I was.”
“It’s not an option,” he replies firmly. “The past can’t be changed. What you can do is stay strong and focused on the path you’re on.”
His confidence in me causes my eyes to water. Gerard never expressed confidence in me in any part of my life. In all honesty, neither did my mother. She wanted me to look pretty for her friends and then passed me off to a nanny.
I don’t know what I’m feeling anymore. Fresh terror, fresh memories of that night, fresh confusion.
And … the tiny realization Robert and Madison aren’t the boogeymen I’ve made them into. They are human. Human enough to know their time outside of jail is limited. Human enough to understand I’m going to put them away, because no trial can be more painful than what I’ve already been through.
Human enough to be scared.
They should be. I’m not backing down.
“Does tonight change your mind about going through with the trial?” Chris asks.
“No,” I whisper. “Tonight I realized they’re scared. Not as scared as I was three months ago, but they’re still scared. It makes a difference.”
“Three months ago, you were powerless to change what was happening to you. Now, they are,” Chris says. “Your father … Gerard must be desperate, if he pulled something like this.”
