Page 35 of Gilded Lies
Oliver passes me a fresh drink, and he clinks glasses with Rune. “We need to go to Magnolia now.”
“Agreed. She’ll think we ghosted her.”
Rune downs his drink, using it instead of pain meds. “We need to explain how things work. Enough of keeping her a secret and secluded from our real lives.”
“Magnolia?”
Before tonight, we never discussed Magnolia in front of anyone, but I no longer care who hears.
Rune finishes his drink and stands, moving to a hidden closet set deep into the far wall. He pulls out three clean shirts and passes one to me and Oliver.
“You can’t be serious, you daft boy. You want to go get a piece of ass when the family needs you?”
“Modern slang doesn’t fit your style, Father.”
My father’s words grate over my raw nerves. Clutching the tumbler in my hands I hurl it and the contents into the fire. Flames roar and throw the room into a burst of angry reds and oranges.
“When you pitted our family against the Hightowers for no reason a decade ago you lost all say-so in this family. I stepped in to keep the other territories from slaughtering us in our sleep. Your ego has no place here.”
My father waves a hand like he can dispel my words, but the truth never goes away, and he knows it.
“The fact remains, if you left a single Hightower alive. Even one. They will be out for blood. If this girl is so important to you and you make the mistake of bringing her into this family now you are putting a target on her back. She’ll die within a month. Just like your cousin’s wife.”
My temper blazes. Veins bulge and the sheer amount of adrenaline jacking into my system has me rearing back and releasing my wrath into the high ceiling. Heaving, I arrow all my rage and frustration toward one man. “I loathe the day I took over this empire. When my brother died, I should have burned it all to the fucking ground. If I had, we would all be free of you.”
Father pushes to his feet with the help of his cane. He crosses and stands in front of me. His weathered face pulled into a frown. “Calm down, son. I am not right about much, but this one time listen to me. Don’t be me. When I married your mother it was out of love despite what you may think. Back then I didn’t have the strength I needed to protect her. I always told you she died in childbirth when in reality she died at the hands of an enemy because I was too weak to protect her. Now your cousin feels my pain. Don’t bring some innocent woman into this family until you can make it safe for her.”
There are tears in my father’s eyes.
I long ago learned that even the smallest of lies will always come to light. Feeling as though I’m swallowing broken glass, I take in my father’s confession.
“You lied to me for forty years?”
A frail shoulder lifts. “It was easier that way.” My father falls back into his chair. “I rather you grew up loving the idea of a woman who died to bring you into this world rather than hating the men who took her out of it.”
I don’t expect to feel pain, but the barbed wire wound around my heart for the man in front of me loosens and drops to the floor between my feet. My gaze connects with Rune’s before finding Oliver’s.
“Don’t look so taken aback. You are right to hate me. One thing done right doesn’t erase the evil I committed with the hatred that consumed me. The Hightowers did nothing to me and I nearly eradicated their bloodline from my—our—territory out of hatred and fear. They have every right to hate our family.” Flames dance in his eyes giving the man an eerie appearance.
“If you will excuse me. I have a baby girl I need to see.”
My father makes his way to the door. He looks back with a lifetime of knowledge folded into the wrinkles on his hands and face. “You will do well to heed my word, son. Eliminate the threat first. Then find the girl. If she’s worth fighting for and the one who will love the three of you as you are, she will be there once you are done.”
I watch my father’s retreating back. A broken man with little to live for with no wife and no empire to rule over.
Oliver pulls our phones out of the drawer. We left them behind so no one could track us or distract us from the task at hand.
He tosses mine in my lap and hands Rune’s to him on the way to the chair by the fire.
Oliver’s phone goes off with old messages coming through.
“Son-of-a-bitch,” he seethes.
“What?”
Rune sits up when Oliver flips the phone around for us to see.
“One hundred and twelve messages from her. They start out sweet and then turn worried and then hurt. What did we promise her? We promised her she was our everything. And look what we did to her. She could be carrying our child right this second and we are leaving her defenseless.”