Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 73091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah. Fine. Except in the head.”
“No. Please. Tell me he didn’t—”
“No. Dad didn’t touch me. Other than beating the shit out of me. But Reid got it a lot worse, as you know.”
“I often wonder…”
“What?”
“Whether it would have been better to have been pounded the way Reid was. Then maybe I wouldn’t feel so…used.”
I opened my mouth, but no words emerged. What could I say to her? Being violated in the most private way by your own father had to be worse than getting your ass kicked. I wanted to puke just thinking about it.
“What do you need, Sis?” I asked. “What can I do for you?”
“I just needed to tell someone that I’m innocent. I didn’t do it.”
“We know that.”
“But I never said it.”
“You think that ever mattered to us? We never thought you’d harm a hair on his head because—”
I stopped.
We all thought that because she was his favorite. Because he’d doted on her.
Boy, we’d been mistaken about that.
We hadn’t known she had a huge motive to kill our father.
“Please, Roy. You’ve got to believe me.”
The torment in her voice was palpable. I could feel it through the phone connection.
“I believe you,” I said.
“Thanks, Roy. Tell the others, okay?”
“I will. But Ri, you need to come home.”
“I can’t. I just can’t. Not yet.”
“What about Paris? Your contract?”
“I’m a fucking mess. I can’t walk a runway right now.”
“You’re the best, Riley. You can do it.”
“I’m not the best. You should have been the model, Roy. You have more poise than I’ve ever had.”
Huh? Since when had I had even a modicum of poise? Since the fifth of never. “You’re wrong about that.”
“You’re quiet and reserved. You walk into a room and people can’t help but be drawn to you. They can’t help but want to know what makes you tick.”
“Doesn’t mean I’d make a good model.”
“Trust me. My agent wants you.”
She’d mentioned that once before, but I’d laughed it off. She’d never said anything about it again.
“I’m an artist. I draw the model. I’m not the model.”
“I know. That’s what I keep telling Fredricka.”
“Have you talked to Fredricka lately?”
Silence for a whole minute. Seriously, I counted to sixty.
“No. I tossed my cell phone because she kept blowing it up with calls and texts.”
“You’re under contract,” I reminded her.
“I know,” she said, “and I just don’t care, Roy. I just don’t fucking care.”
“Can I reach you again at this number?” I asked.
“No. If I want to talk to you again, I’ll call you.”
“At least tell me where you are. I’ll be able to find the area code anyway.”
“I’m not in the area code. Please. Don’t try to find me. I need to…” She sighed, a whoosh into my ear through the phone. “I don’t know what I need.”
“Help,” I said softly. “You need help.”
“Not ready to face everything yet. Someday. But not now.”
“Riley, please—”
“Goodbye, Roy.”
“Riley, don’t hang up. Don’t!”
But she did.
Damn!
I did a quick search for the area code. Central Ohio. What was in Ohio? Of course, just because the area code was in Ohio didn’t mean she was in Ohio. She could have purchased a disposable cell phone there.
Or she could be using someone else’s.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
My poor little sister needed help. Needed us.
But what could I do? Reid always said Riley didn’t want to be found. But now…
Now she’d all but told me that she hadn’t disappeared those other times. My father had taken her away.
This was all so fucked up.
My father was so fucked up.
And what was up with Father Jim? Just the thought of him had me doubling over with nausea, and I didn’t have a clue why.
Except that I did.
Tonight, at my session, I was going to find out.
49
Charlie
I was a little late to Luigi’s.
“I ordered for you,” Blaine said, standing and pulling out my chair for me.
“Of course you did,” I countered.
He held up the bottle of chianti that sat on the table. “Wine?”
“No thanks. I have a lot to do this afternoon.” And you know damned well I don’t drink at lunch.
“Come on, Charlie. Just one glass. It’s Saturday.”
“Sure.”
Not that I planned to drink it. I just wanted him to shut up.
“The information you have?” I said.
“Let’s have a nice lunch first. Tell me what’s going on with you.”
“You know what’s going on with me, Blaine. We just talked two days ago.”
“Nothing new?”
Only that I was twice as frustrated with him now.
I shook my head and faked taking a drink of my wine. I didn’t want to play his games today. I half-agreed with Roy that this was just a fake-out, but part of me couldn’t take the chance. So I wouldn’t threaten to leave if he didn’t barf up the information. I’d just be quiet. Sit here. Say nothing. Answer his stupid questions with one or two words.
And wait.
I’d fucking wait.