“Ben?” Dad questioned, confused.
Yeah, me too.
“This is the second time in two days that I’ve heard you apologize,” I stated, dumbfounded. “I’ve never heard you apologize for anything.”
Remorse shadowed his face. “I know.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn’t find the words.
I was speechless.
“There’s a lot I need to apologize for,” Dad continued with earnestness. “There’s not enough apologies to cover all of them. Hell, I don’t deserve your forgiveness. All I ask is that you hear me out for your mother. I don’t care about me in this, Ben.”
Was this a trick?
If it was, it was a new low.
Even for him.
“I have no idea what to say to you right now,” I confessed. I felt off balance and twitchy.
“You don’t have to say anything, Ben. All I ask is that you listen to your mother and me.” Pain resurfaced in him. “If you want to get up and walk out of our lives forever afterward, neither of us will stop you.”
I studied him, searching for any hidden deception, but I didn’t find anything but sincerity.
Holy shit!
He’s genuine.
I took a step closer, keeping my voice low. “I swear to God that if you try to fuck with the life I’ve made here, I will never speak to you again. I won’t even allow you to have anything to do with Lincoln. Nothing. For once, Linc and I are happy, and I will do everything in my power to keep it that way. And that includes Samantha. Don’t speak to her. Don’t look at her. I don’t want you in the same room as her.”
Dad swallowed hard and then licked his lips. “I can do that,” he rasped. “I have no intention of hindering your life, Ben.”
I took a step back and nodded. “Fine. I’ll listen.”
∞
Emma aimed her eyes my way, trying to reassure me as she placed coffee cups on the table between Mom and Dad and me.
I dipped my chin subtly to show her my thanks.
“I’ll be inside,” she murmured and straightened, smiling at the three of us. “Shout if you need anythin’.”
I wanted to stay away from other guests or anyone else at the B&B, so I suggested that we go onto the patio. Emma thought we needed coffee. I didn’t need coffee; I needed this over.
Whatever this was.
“Thank you, Ems,” Mom replied. Her hands shook as she clutched her mug and took a sip.
“Your welcome,” Emma chirped and flounced back into the house.
“Well,” I prompted them, reclining into the wicker chair, and threw my arm over the back. Outside, I was calm and cool, but on the inside, I was edgy and impatient. “Get on with it.”
Dad fidgeted, appearing anxious and uncertain in the love seat across from me. “I guess it should be me who starts.” When neither Mom nor I said anything, he went on, staring me directly in the eyes. “I have no excuses. There’s absolutely nothing to say that could make up for my horrible behavior. I’ve been heartless and ruthless your entire life, and I’ll have that regret for the rest of mine.” Dad glanced at Mom, his jaw working. “Even your mother – I’ve been deplorable to her, as well.”
I rubbed my eyes in slow circular motions, feeling a headache coming. I was blown away that I was actually sitting here listening to this garbage.
Am I stupid?
“I’ve made so many mistakes. I’ve hurt so many people, not once considering the consequences of my actions.” There was a steely conviction in his voice. “But I’m not that man anymore, Ben. I’m changing. I have changed.”
It was a load of crap.
As I leaned forward, I steepled my fingers and rested my elbows on my knees, leveling him with a glare. “Bullshit,” I stated evenly. “I call complete and utter bullshit.”
“Ben,” Mom interjected, but I wasn’t having it.
“No.” I pointed a finger in Dad’s direction. “If he wants to do this, he’s going to listen, too.” I cocked my head at Dad. “Did you come here thinking you could go on and on about change and expect me to brush everything under the rug? Am I supposed to forget everything you’ve done?”
“No.”
What?
I wasn’t expecting that either.
“No?” I repeated.
“No, I don’t expect that at all. You’ll remember, Ben. Everything I did is cemented in your mind.” Dad bent forward. “I came here to tell you I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I was more concerned with work than I was for you and your mother. I’m sorry that I cast both of you aside for my wants and dalliances. I’m sorry that I made a mistake with Gwen, one that I’ve never been more ashamed of, and let you take the fall for it. ” Dad’s tone grew with fervor and volume as he spoke, and his breathing picked up. “I’m sorry that I forced you to marry her. I’m sorry that I sat idle while you were miserable for years and had to deal with that insane, manipulative woman! I’m sorry, okay?! I’m sorry!”
My jaw hung open by the time he was done.
Dad wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, with a sheen in his eyes. “I’ve messed up, Ben. I’ve seen the error of my ways. I don’t care about all the things that were once important to me.” His voice lowered, quivering with emotion. “I care about you. I care about your mother and my grandson. I want to live out the rest of my life with my family, not stuck in some office. Money doesn’t mean a thing once you’re dead and gone. You, Linc,” he glanced at Mom and then met my eyes again, “your mother…you are what matter the most. I’m sorry it’s taken me such a long time to see that.”
I sat back and studied him again, not entirely convinced. He put on a good show – I’d give him that.
“So what? You just woke up one day and said I’ve messed up. Huh?” I waved at Mom. “And you. You’re sober. You’re sober! Did you do the same?” A short, cynical bark of laughter escaped me. “My entire life you’ve both been sick, and now what? You’ve changed? I find that very hard to believe.”
When it came down to it, I didn’t trust either of them.
“We deserve that,” Mom interjected, wiping tears from her face. “We deserve every bit of your anger.”
Dad folded Mom’s hand in his, comforting her. “We do.” They had an unspoken conversation again. Giving her one last squeeze, Dad let her hand go and started unbuttoning his shirt.
“Dad?” I questioned, glancing around to make sure no one saw. Has he lost his mind? “What are you doing?”
“I’m showing you what caused the change,” he explained as he finished a final button and pulled his shirt apart.
I gasped, feeling as if the earth had shifted under me.
There was a ten-inch scar running down his chest. I was a doctor, so I knew what it meant and the severity behind it.
“Heart surgery,” I whispered, my eyes rounded.
Dad nodded and started buttoning his shirt again.
“After you’d come to confront us about Gwen,” Mom began, wringing her hands together, “I snapped out of it.” Her brows furrowed. “It’s the only way to describe it. I’ve been living in a fog for the last twenty-five years, and it took the look of devastation on your face to wake me from that.” Her mouth and jaw quivered, but she powered through. “I stopped drinking that day. It was hell, Ben, but I knew I had to do something or I was going to lose the two most important people in my life…Lincoln and you. Once I detoxed and got myself together, I left your father.”
I wouldn’t have been more surprised if she hit me in the head with a sledgehammer.
“That’s when this happened,” Dad added, gesturing at his chest. “Between your estrangement and your mother leaving me, my heart gave out. Right as the door closed behind her, I had a heart attack in the middle of our living room. And guess what, Ben? No one was there. You and your mom were gone. I was alone and dying. And whose fault was that?” He shook his head, pressing his lips together, and slapped his chest. “Me. It was all my f
ault.”
“His only saving grace was that I forgot my keys,” Mom revealed, answering my next question before I could ask it. “I found him on the floor and called 911.”
Dad smiled at Mom and took her hand again. “It changed me, Ben. The whole experience did. When I woke up, I knew I had to do something to repair the wreckage I’d made. Your mother was the first thing. It took some time to convince her, but she finally agreed to give me another chance.”
“Your father wasn’t always like that,” Mom divulged, her words quiet. “When I met him, he could be sweet and loving. The change happened slowly and continued to get worse. I got lost in it.” A soft smile curved her lips. “Well, when he woke up after surgery, he was the man I married, and it reminded me of all the good times. Thirty-five years of marriage shouldn’t be thrown away – it should stand for something – so I took him back.”
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” I asked, astonished. “I was in Portland when it happened. I would’ve…” Well, I wasn’t sure what I’d do, but if Dad were in the hospital, I would have at least seen him. I would have helped Mom with rehab, too.
“We didn’t want to burden you further,” Dad explained. “You had enough to last a lifetime.”
I massaged my jaw and tried to come up with a reply, but I had none.
They were trying to look out for me?!
I glanced around again to see if there were any hidden cameras anywhere.
“We wanted to come to you when we were stronger, mind, body, and soul,” Mom added. “You were busy rebuilding your life after Gwen. We wanted you to have that time. We needed it, too. There were things that had to be done.”
I shook my head, trying to wrap my brain around this. “What about London? You flew Linc back to Portland without my permission.”
“After you left, we knew our time was running out. We had to find a way to get you to talk to us,” Dad enlightened me, his mouth twitching as if he wanted to laugh. “You ruined that plan when you made Linc meet you at the airport.”
My jaw ticked. “That kind of domineering behavior is what got us in this mess, Dad.”
Dad’s face fell, but he recovered quickly and dipped his chin in shame. “I know.”
“And Uri? What about him? You sent him to spy on me.”
There couldn’t be an explanation for that. Sending Uri here was invasive and low.
Dad shrugged. “It’s hard to teach an old dog new tricks.”
“Dad,” I rumbled in warning.
“When the time came for us to come to you with all this, we wanted you to be in a good place, Ben. Since you wouldn’t talk to us, we had to find out some way. That’s where Uri came in.” I bet that goaded Uri to death. “You’ll never see Uri again, Ben. I’ve sold the company. I am officially retired. It was something else I needed to accomplish before I approached you. I wanted you to know how serious I was about starting over.”
“You sold…” I shook my head, wondering if I heard him wrong. “You sold your company?!”
This had to be a trick.
“Yep. Every piece.”
“You’ve spent your whole life building it!”
He missed everything in my life to have it!
“And look where that’s gotten me,” he pointed out. “It should’ve never mattered over you and your mother.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but the surprising wail of a siren stopped me. From the patio, I watched as a police car sped by, heading down Main Street towards the city limits. More and more sirens started adding to it quickly, the cacophony of sounds growing so loud that it was hard to hear anything at all, and five squad cars raced past the B&B.
Something bad happened.
Hard and brutal, the thought struck me over the head. I stood, a sinking sense of dread creeping over me, and pulled my phone from my pocket.
“Ben?” Dad questioned as the noise began to taper off in the distance.
Ignoring him, I dialed Samantha’s number.
It rang and rang and rang.
“Hey, this is Sam-”
I disconnected.
“No,” I whispered and dialed Linc’s number.
It rang and rang and rang.
“It’s Linc. Leave-”
I disconnected.
“No.”
“Ben?”
Why weren’t they answering?!
You know, Ben. You’ve felt this coming.
Panicked, I ran across the patio and powered down the steps, dialing Linc’s number.
“Ben?!” Dad yelled after me.
I rushed to my Bronco and threw the door open as it went to voicemail again.
Please, God.
I dialed Samantha’s number and turned the ignition. The door opened, and Brad jumped into the seat. “Go, go, go!” he shouted, slapping the dashboard repeatedly.
Disconnecting, I threw the phone in the back seat. I shifted into reverse and floored it, whipping my Bronco around.
“What happened?” I demanded.
The tires screeched as I switched gears and zipped down the driveway.
Brad turned to me, and his eyes caused the air in my lungs to freeze and turn to weighted ice.
Stark terror.
Brad’s voice came out low and riddled with anguish. “Shots fired at your house.”
Chapter 32
Ben
Erratic and all over the place, my heart and mind raced. Nothing could happen to either of them. Linc and Samantha had to be okay.
They’re fine.
“What happened?” I asked again.
Brad’s knuckles were white as he gripped the dashboard. “A call came into the police station. One of your neighbors heard shots and thought they came from your house.”
Key word, thought.
Oh, thank Christ.
“But you don’t know for sure, right?” I asked to be sure.
Brad’s fearful gaze caught mine. “The arriving officer had to call for backup. My buddy at the station said possible homicide.”
Dear God.
“What?” I gasped, my throat tight.
Brad shook his head. “He said there’s blood everywhere.”
My chest seized.
“No,” I wheezed, taking a corner too fast, and increased my speed. “No, it’s fine. They’re fine.”
“I pray you’re right,” Brad whispered, his voice so small I barely heard him.
I have to be right.
The drive was filled with tense silence. I kept thinking this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.
A homicide?
At my house?
I felt raw fear a few times in my life. Once, when Linc was little, he broke his arm when he fell out of a tree. Another time was when Linc called me and told me about Gwen’s overdose. The fear each time was real and powerful, but nothing compared or came close to this feeling.
Nothing.
This fear tore out your insides, hollowing you out. It was eviscerating and crippling, making every thought process disjointed and muddled.
As we sailed down the last stretch of road, the chaotic scene in front of my house held my sole focus. There were several police cruisers and unmarked cars. A firetruck was parked off to the side, out of the way. People were everywhere.
“God, no,” I whispered, my heart in my throat.
Seeing that changed everything, making it more real, acuter. An urgency to get inside my house took over, overriding all logic.
As I pulled into the driveway, a cop tried to stop me. I drove past him, ignoring the angry shouts. I parked by the firetruck and didn’t even turn off the engine. I was out of the Bronco in a flash, with Brad hot on my heels as we dashed towards the front door.
“Whoa!” an officer shouted. Two more were behind him, all three of them running towards us, blocking our path. Brad and I collided with them, trying to fight against them. Two more officers ran up, helping them push us back.
“That’s my house!” I yelled. “My son!” I
struggled harder, needing to get inside. “Linc! Samantha!”
“Sir, you need to calm down,” one of them ordered, helping the others thrust me back.
I skidded backward a few feet, the crushed grass slick under my shoes. Crazed, I was about to make another lunge at them, but Brad’s voice broke through the fog.
“Aaron Donohue, you better let us pass,” Brad growled, his frame pulsating with rage and terror as he wrestled against one officer’s hold. “We need to find out what’s goin’ on in there! Sam’s in that house! So is his son!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Stop,” the man, Aaron, shouted at the men holding us.
Hesitantly, they let us go and took a step back, their postures wary and on guard.
Brad and I calmed slightly, but my determination to get to Linc and Samantha left me strung out, and I prowled back and forth in front of them.
“You said Sam’s here?” Aaron asked and met another officer’s wide gaze, their breathing heavy. “And your son?”
“Yes,” I seethed. “They were here this morning.”
“Wait here a moment.” Aaron stepped aside and spoke softly into the radio on his uniform.
I pulled at my hair, watching a few people walk in and out of my house and around the perimeter. I’d never felt this helpless.
“Come with me,” Aaron finally said and turned, partially jogging towards the front door.
“What happened in there?” I asked, following him, our pace rapid.
“I’ll let you speak with Detective Wilde,” Aaron replied.
Grinding my teeth, I snarled, “Are they okay? Have you seen Samantha or my son? What’s going on?!”
Before he could answer, a man walked out the front door and met us on my porch. He was broad-shouldered, had long brown wavy hair tucked behind his ears and an air of authority.
He addressed Brad first and shook his hand. “Mr. Raiden.”
“Wes,” Brad replied, his voice stiff with tension. “Can you tell us what’s goin’ on?”
“You’re the owner?” Wes asked me, ignoring Brad’s question.
“Yes. Ben Rhodes. My son and girlfriend were here when I left this morning. Are they okay? We heard there’s a possible homicide.”
“I’m Detective Wilde, Mr. Rhodes.” He opened a small notepad and wrote something down in it. “Can you tell me where you were for the last, say, two hours?”
Fated Bliss (The Bliss Series Book 2) Page 38
