“Beauford Fitzgerald, close your fly trap and move. I’m only going to explain this to you once . . . ” Billy’s voice trailed off as he pushed Beau into the kitchen.
Her face was still cold, so I knelt in front of her and pressed my palms to her cheeks. I forced myself not to ask any questions. I needed to know what happened, but she needed me to be patient.
So I could be patient.
Yep.
I hate being patient.
Just when I was about to lose my battle against concern-fueled curiosity, she opened her eyes and looked at me. She’d stopped shaking, mostly. Her chin had ceased its wobbling. But her eyes were still dull and dejected. I hated how powerless I was in that moment. I needed to take away her sorrow, bury it, banish it, destroy it.
“Tell me what to do,” I begged, desperate to do something.
She swallowed, shaking her head sadly. “There’s nothing to do. My father disowned me, so I left.”
“Without your shoes?”
She nodded.
I frowned at this news. “Why are you so cold?”
“I walked here.”
“You walked here?” I couldn’t keep my anger out of my voice and the sound made her flinch, and that broke my heart.
Yes. I will destroy him. He will be destroyed by me.
“Cletus—”
“I’m sorry. I’ll be calm. I’ll be that fancy iced cucumber water. Please continue. Tell me what happened.”
She licked her lips and I saw that they were chapped. But they also weren’t blue anymore. She covered my hands on her face with hers and brought them to her lap, staring at where our fingers were entwined.
“He said that we needed to talk. He was really angry, with me, about us. He knew about us and said,” she swallowed, gathered a large inhale, then continued, “he was crazy. He said crazy things.”
“Like what?”
“He said you wanted to control me. That you would leave me. That I would be left with nothing. He said that if I tried to work at another bakery, he’d sue me.”
“He can’t do that unless you signed a non-compete agreement, which I’m assuming you haven’t.”
“I haven’t. I’m not even technically an employee. Cletus,” she stared at me, worry and fear plaguing her features, “I have nothing. I don’t even have a bank account. I’ve been so stupid, trusting my parents. I should have formalized everything a long time ago.”
“Don’t worry about that.” I waved away her fear, needing her to feel safe.
“I will worry about that.” She frowned at me, her eyebrows pulling together until two fierce lines appeared between her eyes. “I need to be able to support myself. I’m going down to Knoxville tomorrow. There’s a bakery in the old district that’s been trying to hire me for years. I’ll start there.”
“Fine. I’ll drive you. But it’s nothing to fret over right now.” I tightened my fingers over hers. “What did your momma say about things? I have a hard time believing she’s willing to lose you as an asset at the bakery.”
Jennifer shook her head. “She wasn’t there. It was just him, ranting at me and telling lies.”
“What do you mean? What lies?”
“He said you were blackmailing him. That he loved me. But that he wanted to save me from you. It was so awful.”
I stiffened, and suddenly my stomach soured. I found I had difficulty swallowing past a mysterious lump lodged in my throat.
Jenn sniffled again. “So I had to leave. I had to get out of there and away from his lies.”
I sat back on my feet and studied her tired face, uncertain how to proceed. Kip may have been lying about loving his daughter, but he wasn’t lying about the blackmail.
“At first, I think he really thought he could bully me into giving you up.” She was staring beyond me, at the fire, talking mostly to herself. “I think he thought I would cave, that I would just keep doing whatever he wanted. And when I didn’t, he lied. And when that didn’t work, he tried to backtrack and guilt me into it, by saying he loves me. He’s sick.”
I had to correct her. If I didn’t, then he’d have the power.
“Jennifer. I have to tell you something.”
“What is it?” Her eyes shifted back to mine. She looked exhausted.
“I am blackmailing your father.”
Jennifer stilled. And then she blinked once, confused. “What?”
“I’m blackmailing him.”
She stared at me, her eyes growing impossibly wide until comprehension made them sharp with betrayal.
“You blackmailed my father?” she whispered, pulling her fingers from mine.
The accusation in her words cut; I had to help her see reason.
“I did. I am. I blackmailed him so he would leave us alone.”
She stood abruptly, limping to the other side of the room then spinning on me. She crossed her arms, wrapping the blanket tighter around her shoulders, glaring daggers of hurt and fury in my direction.
“I can’t believe you. I can’t believe you would do that.”
“I wanted him to leave us alone, to give us his blessing.”