––––––––
"You look nothing like your father." His voice is deeper than I remember it.
I arch a brow. "You're not nearly as handsome as your son."
That draws a faint smile.
"Actually," I continue. "Both your sons are much better looking than you. They must resemble their mother."
"Ah," he raises his index finger in the air. "You have yet to meet Anja. You're lucky."
I can tell that he's goading me. Our game of cat and mouse began before Frederick Beckett took a seat across from me.
He was lead into the prisoner's hall with seven other inmates. Their handcuffs were removed one-by-one, with Frederick being the last. His eyes had been trained on my face the entire time. I hadn’t stood when he approached the table I'm sitting at. I didn't extend my hand in greeting. I sat stoically waiting for him to tell me why he requested this meeting.
I was both nervous and grateful when Everett told me that Frederick wanted to see me right away. I'd sat in the clearance area for more than two hours while the guard there checked over my documents. She wanted to know why I was visiting the prisoner and I was honest.
I told her that he was my boyfriend's father. It had been enough to grant me the permission I needed to enter the crowded hall so I could take another seat to wait an additional hour.
"I thought you might bring my son with you." He tilts his head to the right to look over my shoulder. "I don't see him anywhere."
"He wants nothing to do with you." I tilt my head as well to block his field of vision. "I don't think he'll ever come to see you."
His lips purse together. "Time has a way of healing. Landon will find it in his heart to forgive me."
The arrogance oozing from every single one of his pores is nauseating. The man upended the lives of both of his sons and his wife and it doesn't seem to faze him.
"You came to see me." He claps his hands together. "I had a feeling that if I whistled, you'd run."
I bite my bottom lip to stave off the urge to tell him to go to hell. He wants that from me. It's how he controls his world. He pushes, others respond, and when it all becomes too much, he's the one who runs.
"I'll never be able to run as fast, or as far, as you. Wait. I meant swim."
His eyes narrow. "You're a spitfire. I can see the attraction. My son may have chosen wisely after all."
I can literally feel my skin crawling at the mention of Landon being his son. I don't understand how he's cut from the same cloth as this. I haven't spent five minutes with the man and it's already too long. "Why am I here?"
"You're curious. You have questions that only I can answer."
The fact that he's right doesn't stifle my desire to reach over the table to slap him. I'm not violent. I don't ever feel that type of rage burning within me, but the unyielding yearning to be the source of even a brief flash of his pain is overwhelming.
"Does she want to talk about her father," his voice trails as he upturns his palms in the air and holds them level. "Or does Ms. Marlow want to talk about my son first?"
I watch in silence as he moves first his right hand and then the left as if he's balancing a weight in mid-air.
"If you're not going to choose, I'll do it for you." He claps his hands together so loudly that a guard takes two heavy steps towards the table before he realizes the source of the noise.
I lean back in the uncomfortable chair I'm sitting in. "I want to know about my dad."
"Otis Marlow, the inept insurance representative who mistakenly thought a woman like Lydia Keeley could love him. Let's begin there."
***
As he told me about his relationship with Lydia, there were brief flashes of compassion in his tone. They had met while in line at a grocery store. He had been taken by the color of her eyes and the way she looked at him.
Their affair had been passionate and reckless. In the beginning they had been mindful of being caught so they'd arrange to meet in hotels just outside the city. Things grew more brazen as their attraction increased and by the time they had plotted out a plan to be together, their trysts were taking place in his car or in a hidden alcove at his office.
She wanted him to leave his wife, and when he refused, Lydia hinted at an affair with another man. She spoke of his kindness and his incessant need to please her. She told Frederick that the man was willing to risk his own freedom to help her financially.
The draw towards the man was the easy money he could provide. Once she realized how simple her plan was to forge insurance documents using the names of deceased clients, she pulled more men into her web. The operation grew and as it did, Frederick joined her at the reins.