Grandma ignores Sloane, relentless in her explanation.
“He felt sorry for you, so he decided to take you away while I dealt with your disgusting parents. You served no purpose but to keep his ugly scandals from getting out. He was sending you home in nine days. If your behavior hadn’t improved, I would’ve responded accordingly. He had to get control of you.” At this, she glares between the two of us. “I do believe I’ve figured out his means to do it.”
“Sloane, is that true?” I croak out. By his guilty look, I know that it is. My heart stutters as nausea and dizziness rush through me. “So…so you never really wanted me?” My voice is a broken whisper.
He gets up from his seat and starts towards me. My grandmother’s look stops him, like she has an invisible wall between us.
Sloane’s tumultuous eyes beg me to understand. “Georgie, sweetheart. Yes, it’s the truth, but so is the fact that I couldn’t rest without knowing you were safe and healthy. I don’t feel whole without you.”
I smile at him through my tears. He loves me, as I love him. We’ll be fine, the moment he defends us. Him. Our relationship. “Then tell them. Tell her. Tell her that you want to be with me.”
“No.” He looks at my grandmother and his face hardens. “We’re done. Keep the baby. Your special memento of our time together. She’ll find a seventeen or eighteen year old boy to claim paternity, but we’re finished, Georgiana.”
Sloane
“Go to hell,” Georgie blasts when she’s over her shock. She can’t believe I said those things. Fuck. Neither can I. “You’ve never wanted me. Have you? It’s only your dick that does.”
I know I shouldn’t, but I feel a surge of satisfaction when Georgie starts with her language. Helen hates this the most about her.
“That’s all it has been with you. Right?”
She wants me to refute those words. She’s falling apart before me. I can put her back together, tell her we’ll work this out. Swear my undying love to her. Anything to take her hurt away.
“Crowell explained it to me,” she continues. “Men don’t want sixteen-year-olds. Only their dicks do, so if I want attention I have to appeal to a man’s cock. You didn’t fuck me. Only your dick did.”
“That’s enough, Georgiana,” Helen says coldly. “Go wait for me in the car.”
Panic replaces her burst of fury. I haven’t budged. “Sloane, please. Please. Please don’t do this to me and the baby. Please.”
She sounds so fucking pitiful, I think I’m going to fucking throw up, and I have a damn strong stomach.
The way Dad revered Mom slides through my memory. Is this how he felt whenever Mom hurt or cried? Was the impetus for his behavior the same helplessness I feel at this moment? He didn’t care who he destroyed as long as she was happy.
I’ve never wanted such a complete love. It frightens me. My father drowned his own daughter. I’m afraid to fall so hard for someone that I follow in his footsteps.
That I’m willing to spend a very long time behind bars to claim Georgie, and make her tears go away, tells me all I need to know. My personality is addictive and Georgie has become my all.
I’m my dad all over again.
I can’t be.
I walk to the window of the receiving room, cold and heartless just like she’s said, and stare out. “Go to the car, Georgiana.”
She’s sobbing, but she listens. Through the window, I watch her stumble to the Mercedes limousine, and throw up on the curb. I know it isn’t my baby making her sick. She’s just had cravings, not morning sickness.
“How does it feel, Sloane?” Helen asks from behind me. “To have your entire world destroyed? You love her. I know you do. You’d serve jail time for her, but your life’s too sordid to be known.” I glance over my shoulder. “My daughter is…ill, thanks to you, Parnell, your father, and your aunt. Georgiana is stronger than her mother, so I’ll put her back together myself. Cassandra is another case. However—“ She gets to her feet and grabs an expensive handbag. “She’s finally avenged to my satisfaction. Don’t make the mistake of having me do the same on my granddaughter’s behalf.”
“Helen, we need to talk.” This is the first thing Dad has said since this meeting began. “Just you and me.”
“Unless you have another on dit about my family, there’s nothing more to say. We’re even. One for one. I shared something with you. You shared something with me—“
“What the fuck does that mean?” I choke out, although I suspected this scenario. No fucking way would Dad bend to Helen’s games if she hadn’t discovered a secret—or according to her highbrow terminology on dit—about our family. Mom, especially. But she’s saying he willingly shared a detail. “You’re a sick fuck, Dad.”
He jumps to his feet, but I raise my hands, so close to killing him I see his blood draining from his body.
“Good day, Rand,” Helen says venomously, nodding to Parnell, the useless asshole. “Come.”