by MK Schiller
Kyle blinked in surprise. He knew Cassie wasn’t bright, but he’d expected her to recognize the name. “He’s the mayor of our city.”
Lanie stiffened next to him. “It’s not a big deal. There’s a disgruntled city employee, and I’m handling the case.”
“It is a really big deal. How many associates can litigate a case like that?” Kyle said, squeezing Lanie’s hand.
“Lanie’s one of the best lawyers we have,” Brad added. Kyle felt a mixture of annoyance and gratitude toward Brad at that moment. Annoyance because he didn’t want Brad praising Lanie. That was his job. Gratitude because he relished the envious expression on Cassie’s face. He was completely confused, though, by the irritated look on Ellen Miller’s face.
“Yes, that’s a very generous compliment, Brad. Tell me more about what you do at the firm. It must be very interesting.” She leaned toward him, resting her chin on her perfectly manicured folded hands. Was this really happening? Ellen Miller was an exact replica of Cassie in every way. Kyle felt a searing desire to scream at all of them. Lanie’s childhood must have been a nightmare, being subjected to these two self-obsessed, vain women.
“Lanie, you’re coming shopping on Sunday, right?” Cassie asked, once Brad was done droning on about his work at the firm. Cassie looked between her mother and Lanie with a smug expression. It was apparent to Kyle she was lighting the tinder for some drama.
“Um, I can’t,” Lanie replied and bit her lip. Kyle knew that look. She was lying. He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to go with them. Cassie had picked out that awful nightgown. He couldn’t imagine how inferior they would make her feel during a shopping trip.
“You’re coming, and don’t use work as an excuse this time. You always try to find a way to get out of it. I think that outfit doesn’t quite suit you, and you’ll need Cassie’s expertise,” Ellen said haughtily.
Lanie looked beautiful to Kyle in her blue shirtdress and black boots. In fact, he toyed with the idea of taking her into the bathroom to have his way with her. The reason Ellen Miller didn’t like the outfit was because Lanie looked more stylish than Cassie. In some sick, twisted way, that bothered her.
Kyle cleared his throat. “I’m taking Lanie to the football game on Sunday.”
Everyone’s expressions spoke volumes at the simple statement. Lanie was confused, and she should have been since the Bears weren’t playing at home. Brad looked ready to correct Kyle but stopped when Kyle shot him a venomous glance. Cassie and Ellen weren’t fans, so they didn’t feign expressions of suspicion, but they seemed disappointed. Kyle suspected it had nothing to do with not spending time with Lanie. It was something else…something menacing. In fact, Ellen had been rather cold to Kyle, clearly an extension of how she treated her daughter.
“Football?” Ellen said as if Kyle had told her they were going skinny-dipping in a lake.
“Yes, Mom, football. You know I watch it,” Lanie said, picking up on Kyle’s cover. Kyle moved his hand to her knee to still her shaking.
“That’s right. You’ve always enjoyed that stupid game…just like your father.”
The change in Lanie was so sharp that even Brad asked her if she was all right. She went ramrod straight, jerked her knee away from Kyle, and took a long, nervous sip of her water. Being compared to her father was no compliment. Kyle wanted to put his arms around her and soothe her, but her posture was so guarded he thought it best to keep his hands to himself and his mouth shut. He didn’t want to upset her any more than she was. When the painful dinner was finally over, Lanie walked Kyle to his car. She kissed him on the cheek, but he pulled her close to him and embraced her. She was so rigid he thought she might snap in two. “Come over tonight,” he whispered in her ear.
“Not tonight,” Lanie said, burying her face in his chest.
“I want to see you, sweetheart.” He had so many questions that he had a difficult time containing them. He wanted to help her, to hold her, to tell her how wonderful she was. That she was better than these people.
“Kyle, I don’t think I’d be very good company. I need to decompress after seeing my mother,” she replied sullenly, pulling away from him.
“We can decompress together.” He didn’t mean it to sound sexual, but he knew that’s what Lanie was thinking by her sarcastic smile. He decided to pull out the big guns. “I have ice cream,” he said in a singsong voice.
“You do?” she asked, giving him a genuine smile.
“Your favorite kind and hot fudge too. Maybe if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you lick it off me.” Okay, that was definitely sexual, but at least it got Lanie to laugh. He picked up her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing every finger. “Come on, Lanie. I want to be with you tonight.”
“Are you bribing me?”
“It’s coercion at best,” he said, placing a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I guess I’m coerced then.”
* * * *
Lanie stood in front of Kyle’s door, allowing herself a deep breath. She had contemplated canceling, mortified he’d witnessed the bizarre dinner. Even Brad pulled her aside, asking if she was all right, and he was usually oblivious to her feelings. In contrast, Kyle picked up on everything, and that worried Lanie, but she wanted to see him regardless. He was the one person who could make her feel better.
He opened the door in his boxers and no shirt. She stared at his muscular chest, with its perfect proportions and six-pack abs, feeling the now familiar flush that crept along her neck in his presence. Before she could form any words, he pulled her inside the door and embraced her.
“You look so sad,” he said. She knew she looked like a mess, but she’d tried to conceal her blotchy eyes with drops before coming over. He took her overnight bag, placing his other arm over her shoulder, and guided her to the couch. She sat on the far end, wishing she could fall into the crevice between the arm and cushion. He took the other end, patiently waiting for an explanation.
“What’s going on?” he finally asked. It was a loaded question, and she knew it, but she wasn’t sure how to answer it. He’d already seen her at her worst, but this would surely drive him away. Right now she so desperately needed his friendship that she didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize it.
“I don’t understand your question.”
He sighed in exasperation, running his hands through his thick black hair. “Why are there hardly any photos of you? Why did we spend an hour talking about eyeliner when you’re about to blow the lid off a huge case? Why does your mother treat you like an annoyance instead of the brilliant woman you are? You have to know your family’s not normal.”
Her nails dug into the flesh of her palms as she clenched her fist. “Is your family normal?” It was a mean question and she knew it, but she didn’t want to open the rest of her scars to him. He’d accepted the physical one, and that was enough for her.
“You know it’s not.”
“Okay, so we’re both a little fucked-up. Can we just leave it at that?” She didn’t know why he kept pressing her. She just wanted to eat ice cream off his sculpted body and go to bed like any normal girl.
He took a deep breath. “I’ve never told anyone about the cabin, but it helped me to talk about it with you. Let me help you…please.” He looked at her like he had that day, full of tenderness and affection.
“Why?” she demanded, feeling her lip quiver and cursing herself for it.
“Because we’re friends first, and I know you’re hurting. I don’t like to see you in pain.” There was such a sincerity in the statement that she felt herself open to the idea of sharing her secrets for the first time in her life.
She grabbed a cushion, gripping it tightly in her hand and looking away from him because it was easier to stare at anything else than risk seeing the look of horror in his eyes when she told him.
“Cassie and I have different fathers.”
“I figured from the different last names.”
She swallowed. “Cassie�
�s father was apparently a very hardworking and caring man. He and my mother were high school sweethearts, and they loved each other very much. “
“Wait a minute…Cassie’s older than you?” he asked with disbelief. Lanie looked up at him, finding her fear competing with her temper.
“Yes, she’s two years older than me, but I’ll try not to be offended by your shock.” He looked so contrite that she offered him a small smile.
He offered his own. “It’s not that you look older than her, but you definitely act it.” He scooted closer to her, placing his hand near her knee but not touching it. She knew he was letting her dictate whether she wanted to hold it. “I’m sorry for interrupting.”
She nodded, taking a deep breath. “Cassie’s father died in a car accident. My mother met my father. He married her because she was pregnant with me, and I’m pretty sure she married him for his money. They never loved each other.” Her voice was taking on that choked sound she hated, the one that foreshadowed tears.
“Would you like a glass of water?”
She nodded, relieved for the small respite in telling her twisted tale.
He returned and placed the glass in her hand, which trembled, almost causing a few drops to spill. He steadied her hand with his and helped her bring it to her lips. She drank it all, not realizing how thirsty she was.
He sat next to her silently, waiting for her to continue.
“We lived in Racine then. My father wasn’t a good man… That’s an understatement. He was pure evil. He was a lazy, abusive alcoholic who enjoyed tormenting us. I don’t remember all the details, but I know our lives were hell until…until he got arrested. It’s funny the secret lives people lead. Everyone knew my father was the biggest jackass, but no one suspected he was a rapist.”
“A rapist?” Kyle asked. She noticed he clenched his own hands, and the look on his face registered anger, but she knew it wasn’t aimed at her.
“A serial rapist actually. They caught him, but it was a huge embarrassment for my mother and Cassie. She forgave his sins when they were concealed within the walls of our house, but when they became a public spectacle, it almost destroyed her.”
Lanie saw the realization as it flickered across his face. His eyes widened as his fists tightened. “Are you trying to tell me your father was the Racine Rapist? Deland Carmichael?” She nodded, unsurprised Kyle knew her father’s name. He was a journalist after all.
She felt her lips tremble again, and she swallowed, trying to drown the lump in her throat. “I was named after him. There were sixteen victims as far as we know, some of them underage. My mother moved us here afterward. We never spoke about it, and she changed her last name back to her first husband’s.”
“Lanie, did he ever…did he…” Kyle couldn’t even articulate the question, which was so strange for him. His knuckles were now white, and he winced trying to form the words.
“I don’t think so,” she responded so he could stop struggling with asking her if her father had ever molested her.
“What do you mean, you don’t think?”
“I was alone with him a lot. She would leave with Cassie when things got bad. I don’t remember it all.”
“She didn’t take you?” The question came out strained, full of shock and outrage. She wondered for a moment if her admission was harder for him in some ways. She dismissed the thought. He was just being a good friend like he’d always been.
“She said she couldn’t because I was his daughter, and he forbade it. I know the law now and that she had options, but I guess at the time she was trying to protect one of us.” She was almost grateful the memories were patchy. It was her mind’s way of protecting her. Staring at Kyle, she had an urge to comfort him right now. His eyes were blazing green orbs, and his shoulders were shaking, causing her to worry about his stress level.
“That’s fucking bullshit! She had a responsibility as a mother to both of you.” She watched the swift rise and fall of his chest, like he was having trouble breathing. The last thing she wanted was his anger directed toward her mother. Anger was a wasted emotion, and it wouldn’t change anything. She clasped his clenched hand. He turned it over and squeezed hers lightly. The gesture was as much to calm him as it was to comfort her. She noticed it working when he exhaled deeply and unclenched his other fist. “Please, go on,” he encouraged, in a quiet but strained voice.
She shook her head, deciding he knew enough about her psycho family and her tainted genetics. “Kyle—“
“Please, Lanie, I want to know,” he said. It was amazing how insightful he was.
“She always felt guilty about putting Cassie in that predicament because he wasn’t her father. He was mine.”
“So that’s why Cassie doesn’t like skeletons?”
“Cassie told one of her boyfriends when we were in high school. He was bitter when they broke up, so he told the whole school. She was humiliated and made it a point to make sure everyone knew he was my father, not hers. I was able to deal with it better by shutting down and concentrating on school. I worked so hard I graduated a year early. I did the same in college, but Cassie never recovered. She’ll freak if Brad tells her about his father’s illegal activities. Ironically, I thought of it as a common thread, something that would bind. My mother and sister can’t accept what happened and move on. I fully acknowledge they don’t treat me well, but I know why.” She glanced up at Kyle and gained strength from his compassionate expression. “My mother looks at me as the reason she married him. Cassie looks at me as a reminder of him. I look like him.”
“That’s so sick.” She looked away, but he wouldn’t let her this time. He tilted her chin toward him. “It’s sick that they transfer their resentment on you.”
“I know that.”
His eyes moved toward her chest, but there was nothing lustful in his look. Swallowing hard, he stared at the space where her scar was. “Did he do that to you?”
She nodded, shifting her gaze to the floor. “I don’t remember what happened, something about a fireplace poker hitting me in the chest.” Kyle looked away, but not before she saw him wince. The memories of all her years in that house were fragmented and disjointed like a nightmarish patchwork quilt that didn’t fit together.
He leaned closer to her and dropped his voice to a soothing whisper. “You have to know you’re nothing like him, sweetheart. You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met, and I interviewed the Dalai Lama.” She laughed, shocked at how he was able to get her to do that when she was on the verge of tears. “You have a huge heart and a remarkable capacity for forgiveness. I can’t believe you tolerate your sister and mother, let alone allow them to be in your life. You’re a much bigger person than I am, and you never cease to amaze me.”
Her heart melted with his words, but she needed to be strong. Now that she had started, she needed to explain everything. “Thank you, Kyle, but you need to understand that my choice to have my family in my life is a simple one for me. You feel some strange compulsion to stand up for me because you think I’m a pushover, but I’m not. I have two choices. I can either accept them with all the unkindness and ugliness that goes with it or let them go forever. I chose to accept them because I’m over it but they’re not. Do you understand?”
He nodded, caressing her hand with his thumb. “That’s why you took on the Hayes case, and you didn’t want your name mentioned anywhere?” He was so smart, always able to pick up on any small detail.
“Yes, I didn’t want my story interfering with my clients. I’ve dedicated a great deal of time to cases like this one, although not as notable. I wish I could eradicate the thoughts of evil people, but I can’t. At least I can get justice for some of their victims.”
“They’re lucky to have you,” he said. The pride in his voice surprised her.
“I’ll agree with you when we win. In any case, I’ve worked very hard to escape my father’s shadow. I’ve lived my life in such a way that those evil genes can’t take root.” She had thought t
he seeds of immorality were within her, just clawing to spring forth like weeds in a flowerbed. She didn’t feel like that anymore. In fact, Kyle had helped her with that in some ways.
“There’s nothing evil about you, not now or ever, but what do you mean exactly?”
She took a deep breath, readying to reveal the litany of choices she’d made since her mother first compared Lanie to her father when she was a little girl. “My father was a lazy trust fund kid, so I’ve always worked very hard. He was a criminal, so I became a lawyer. I choose not to drink because he was an alcoholic. He was a violent man, so I spend my time working on cases dealing with violence. I abhor violence. And of course, my father was a serial rapist, so I was—”
“Celibate,” Kyle finished for her.
She nodded at him. “It had nothing to do with saving myself. I just never thought I was fit for a relationship. The things other girls dreamed of weren’t in my DNA—that is until I met…Brad.” She blinked, realizing the statement sounded strange to her. It was true, but it didn’t exactly feel truthful for some reason. It didn’t matter, though. She was so exhausted she couldn’t fight back the tears anymore. They flowed freely like a dam burst.
Kyle scooped her up in his arms and held her tightly. He caressed her hair while the hot, fat drops rolled down her face onto his bare chest. She could feel his heartbeat against hers. They were in sync, beating rapidly to some desperate, melancholy melody. She clutched him tightly, and he let her cry, rubbing her back and holding her close. Her body shook as the violent weeping took control. She didn’t think she’d cried so hard in her life. The tears stung her eyes, and the sobs were physically painful, but being in his arms made it bearable. Finally, she had nothing left but shallow, shrieking breaths.
“Thank you for telling me,” he whispered as he cupped her face and wiped away the last of the tears with his thumb.
She shifted off him, feeling awkward about the wet trails left on his chest. “I’m sorry I used your body like a tissue. I’ve never told the whole story like that before.” She tried to manage a smile. She couldn’t; her face hurt too much.
