ASH AND I had a quiet night in, both of us lost in our own thoughts. Cavin's suspicions of the Davenports hit too close to home with what my mother had written in her research… but he didn't know about that, so what had made him say it?
I needed time away from all this, wanted to get away and talk to a close confidant, but no one in my life had been left unscathed by Jon's death—least of all the person who I wanted to talk to the most, my best friend.
The next day I forced myself out of my own shell in order to pull Bridgette out of hers.
Picking my way through her messy bedroom, I turned on the light and then tugged on her arm as she lay in bed with an eye mask on. "Come on, lazy ass. You need to get out of here. How about some retail therapy?" It wasn't my style, but it was how Bridgette coped. Usually.
Today, she wouldn't budge.
"Seriously, girl, you need a shower and a brush. I know you've been through the worst pain imaginable, but you have to go on living. Jon would want that for you. You have to pull yourself together."
She sighed, sat up and pulled off her mask. When she screeched for the light to go away, I obliged. Finally, she showed herself. She squinted through red, puffy eyes and a tear-blotched face, looking nothing like the pale, elegant creature I knew.
I pulled up the covers and scooted into bed with her. We wouldn't be going anywhere today, obviously.
"You look like shit," I said.
"I know. Now you see why I can't go out in public."
"Bridgette, I know you cared for him, but I'm worried about you."
We both stared at the ceiling in the dark, listening to each other breathe.
"I'm worried about me, too," she said. "Is there a funeral date yet?"
"We're still waiting for them to release the… him."
"Right."
More silence.
"Bridgette, it's important to grieve. I know what it's like to lose someone you love." My voice choked on my own grief. "But I can't lose you. You can't lose you. You have to fight through it. You have to find something worth living for."
Bridgette paused, then let out a choked sob. "I think it might be my fault," she said through new tears.
"What? How?"
"I found out something. Something bad. And… I told him. Just before he was killed."
My heart pounded. Did this have anything to do with my mother's book? With all the secrets surrounding the Davenports?
"What did you find out, Bridge?"
"I was going to tell you. I tell you everything, you know that. But it was so close to your wedding and I didn't want to spoil it. So I waited. And I was going to wait to tell Jon, too, but he knew something was wrong and… I just couldn't lie to him. I ruined everything, Catelyn. Everything."
It was getting hard to understand her through the sobs, and as much as I wanted to know this big secret, I had to calm her down first. "Shh… it's okay. I'm sure it had nothing to do with what happened to Jon."
Bridgette made a feeble attempt to calm herself down. "Catelyn… Jon's father was having an affair. With my mother."
"What? Are you sure?"
"I saw them together. Naked. Ugh, it was so gross. They didn't see me, though. I don't think. But here's the thing. Jon was pissed. Like, angrier than I've ever seen him. He wanted to confront his dad, but I talked him into waiting until after your wedding. But what if he didn't? What if he confronted his dad and…"
I could see where her thoughts were heading. "And what if Mr. Davenport killed his son to keep his secret?"
Chapter Ten
Wild Wolves
THREE MONTHS AGO
NOTHING BROUGHT FAMILIES together like weddings. This was even true of estranged families where the brothers liked to beat the shit out of each other.
And so we found ourselves back at the Davenport estate, with Ash grilling up steaks on the barbecue while Bridgette served drinks and I sat and wondered how this family survived itself.
Mrs. Davenport sat next to me and handed me a drink. "You look like you could use one, dear."
I sipped on it. "Thank you, Mrs. Davenport."
"So formal. Call me Louise. After all, you're about to be a Davenport yourself."
"I guess I am."
"How are you and Ash coming along with the wedding plans?" she asked.
Before I can answer, her attention was diverted by a car pulling up to the side of the house. I recognized it as Mr. Beaumont's car.
When Mr. Davenport saw, he stormed at the vehicle. The two men exchanged distant muffled shouts, and Mr. Beaumont drove off, screeching tires as he left.
"Do you know what that was about?" I asked. "Does it have anything to do with—"
"My own screaming match with Ashton the last time you were here?" She chuckled. "My problems with Ash's father are a small matter. Men have to be controlled. Kept in check. But for the Davenport men, it's impossible. They're like wild wolves. They're fearless and they take what they want. I've accepted that."
"How do you deal with it?" I asked, wondering if Ash would turn out like his dad and hoping he wouldn't.