Never Never: Part Three
Page 12His face turns white. He immediately starts to deny, turns his body away from me, and calls me crazy. But I saw the panic on his face, and I know I’m on to something.
“Did you hear the last part of my sentence or are you just focused on keeping up appearances?” He turns his head to look at me, and this time his eyes are no longer soft. “She kidnapped me,” I say. “Kept me locked in a room in her—our—old house.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. I think he’s deciding what to tell me.
“She found you trespassing on her property,” he says finally. “She said you were acting irate. You had no idea where you were. She didn’t want to call the police because she’s convinced you’re doing drugs, so she kept you to help you detox. She had my permission, Charlie. She called me as soon as she found you in her house.”
“I’m not on drugs,” I tell him. “And who in their right mind would hold someone against their will?”
“Would you rather she called the police on you? You were talking crazy! And you broke into her house in the middle of the night!”
I don’t know what to believe right now. The only memory of that experience I have is in the notes I wrote to myself.
“And that girl is my half-sister? Cora?”
He doesn’t even flinch. His poker face is too perfect. He doesn’t ask me what file I have. He just says, “Yes. She’s your half-sister. I had an affair with her mother years ago.”
It’s like this is all happening to a character on a television show. I wonder how the real Charlie would take this. Burst into tears? Get up and run out? Punch this dude in the face? From what I’ve read of her, probably the latter.
“Wow. Oh, wow. Does my mother know?”
“Yes. She found out after we lost the house.”
What a sorry excuse for a man. First, he cheats on my mother. Impregnates another woman. Then he hides it from his wife and kids until he gets caught?
“God,” I say. “No wonder she’s an alcoholic.” I lean back in my seat and stare up at the ceiling. “You never claimed her? Does the girl know?”
“She knows,” he says.
I take a moment to gather myself while he sits in silence. I wish I could say he was wallowing in guilt, but I’m not so sure this man is capable of feeling guilt.
“Why do they live in the house I grew up in? Did you give it to them?”
This question turns him a light shade of pink. He pops his jaw as his eyes dart left to right. His voice is quieter when he speaks, so that only I can hear him. “That woman was a client of mine, Charlie. And a mistake. I broke it off with her years ago, a month before she found out she was pregnant. We came to an agreement of sorts. That I would be present financially, but nothing else. It was better for everyone that way.”
“So what you’re saying is, you bought her silence?”
“Charlie…” he says. “I made a mistake. Believe me, I’ve paid for it tenfold. She used the money I’d been sending her all those years to purchase our old house in auction. She did that just to spite me.”
So she’s vindictive. And maybe a little bit crazy. And my father is to blame for that?
Jesus. This just gets worse and worse.
His eyes dart around the room again to see who’s listening.
“Why are you asking all of these questions?” he whispers. “This isn’t like you.”
“I’m seventeen years old. I think I have the right to change.” This guy. I want to roll my eyes at him, but first I need him to give me more answers.
“Did Clark Nash put you up to this?” he asks, leaning forward with accusation in both his words and his expression. “Are you involved with Silas again?”
He’s trying to turn it around on me. He can’t get to me anymore.
“Yes, Daddy,” I say, smiling sweetly. “I’m involved with Silas again. And we’re in love and very happy. Thank you for asking.”
Veins bulge at his temples. His hands tighten into angry fists. “Charlie, you know what I think about that.”