My gut clenches as I whisper, “Are you saying he’s a…criminal?” Oh, my God, could my long-lost father have made an appearance in my life only for me to learn that he is no better than my mother? Even though I had been in shock for most of our earlier encounter, he had seemed to care about my feelings—or at least he’d put on a good show. I feel almost sick as I wait for Luc’s answer.
Seeming to notice the distress in my voice and expression, Lucian moves from the table to sit beside me on the sofa. Before I can protest, he reaches over and pulls me onto his lap. As I try to move away, he says, “Stop, baby. Just let me hold you. We both need it.” I allow myself to relax because he’s right; we function better as a unit than we do separately. Within the circle of his arms, my world feels as if it’s back in alignment again. Nothing has been resolved between us yet, but even as my mind attempts to be the voice of reason, my body knows its other half too well to be denied. I feel his lips press against the top of my head before he begins speaking. “Lee, from what I’ve heard, basically grew up on the streets. When he was older, he worked for a man named Victor Falco and went on to inherit his business when he died. Falco was long rumored to be on the other side of the law. It’s possible Lee is only guilty by association with Victor’s reputation. As I said before, I have no proof either way.”
A startling thought occurs to me and I pull back enough to look up at Lucian. “Do you think he had anything to do with my mother turning herself in? Her sudden attack of conscience has been completely baffling to me.”
Lucian trails a finger down my cheek, and I see his answer before he speaks. “Yes, I’m quite certain he made that happen.”
Feeling my throat tighten as if gripped by unseen hands, I manage to choke out, “And my stepfather? Was that just a coincidence?”
“Baby, I honestly don’t know. I do know he was determined that you never be hurt again. As to how that translates, only Lee has that answer, and I doubt very seriously he plans to share either of those circumstances with you or me.”
I settle back in his arms, thinking of what he’s just told me. How do I feel about possibly having a father who may also be some type of vigilante? I believe Rose calls it jail-yard justice. Of course, I’m thinking that her version of that with Jake is a bit different from Lee’s. I have no idea how I’m supposed to handle the possibility that my birth father has not only shown up after twenty-four years, but he’s taken care of the people who terrorized me. It’s overwhelming to imagine there might be a grain of truth in something that sounds so far-fetched. How else can I explain what’s happened, though? It’s almost as if God never heard my cries or prayers, but now He’s noticed, and He’s righting all the wrongs heaped upon me. Yes, it sounds fanciful and deluded even, but how can I dispute this as truth when my mother sits in a jail cell, having to answer for her crimes, and the evil heart in my stepfather’s body no longer beats with life?
“It’s a lot to take in,” I admit, feeling overwhelmed.
“It is for me as well,” he agrees. “If you get to a point where you want to meet with Lee, then I will be happy to accompany you. On the other hand, if you don’t want to see him again, I will support that as well. I don’t think it’s anything you have to decide today. Just give yourself time to think about it. I won’t let him pressure you. It’s your decision whether or not he ever has a place in your life. He has to accept that.”
“I’m still angry with you, Luc,” I find myself saying. The fact I’m snuggled in his arms makes a mockery out of that statement, but my feelings of hurt and betrayal are still very raw. It’s ironic that he’s the one to wound me but also the only one able to soothe me.
“I know you are, baby. You were right when you said that my secrets are tearing us apart. I will tell you whatever you want to know, but can I ask for one concession from you first?” I agree warily, hoping he doesn’t ask for more time. That’s the one thing I’m not prepared to grant. Turning beseeching eyes to me, he asks quietly, “Can we go home to talk?” As if thinking I’m going to reject his request, he quickly adds, “I’ve never told anyone what happened that last day with Cassie, and it’s…hard to fathom talking about something so private in someone else’s living room. I promise that if you want to leave me afterward, I’ll bring you back here. Just…please?”
“All right,” I acquiesce, without protest. Truthfully, I’d rather be at his apartment while we talk. It’s not that I believe Rose is standing at her door listening—although she probably is. I feel more comfortable in the apartment I’ve called home for weeks now. Those walls sheltered me while I clawed my way back to sanity—and Lucian—after my assault. The one place in my life that has felt safe to me.