me? Is that allowed? I don’t know what happens now, and I don’t have anyone to ask.
Actually, I do. This time when I send the text, it’s for my friend.
Chapter 28
Spencer
“Well, that sure is a nice suit.” The mean old bastard sits across a glass partition from me, and I search his hazel eyes, exactly like mine, for anything I might recognize.
I find nothing.
“Yes.” My answer is short, clipped. “It is.”
His shaggy, dark brows lower. His hair is long and cut in an old mullet style, and his gray beard grows into a point. He reminds me of one of those guys who used to fly drug planes between Houston and South America.
Only he’s in an orange jumpsuit.
“I guess that means you’re a rich man.” He slides a pack of Parliament cigarettes out of his pocket. “So what do you want from me?”
He actually snarls, but I don’t flinch. I’ve never loved this biological contributor to my creation, and I’m not afraid of him now.
“Last time I saw you, the police were taking me to the hospital.”
He rocks back in the chair. “What? You want an apology?”
I almost laugh at the suggestion. “My forgiveness is not available. No, I’m here out of morbid curiosity.”
He holds out a hand. “What do you want to know?”
My eyes flicker to the beige Formica counter then to him again. “Were you the same with every woman or was it just with my mother?”
The vulnerability inherent in my question makes me cringe. I hate that I fucking need to know the answer. The only gift this animal gave me was a deep and abiding mistrust of myself.
“I met your mother when I was twenty years old.” He lights up, but the glass keeps it on his side. “They let me out of the army after I helped liberate Kuwait, and I went home to find this pretty little lady with a big heart. She wanted to help me. She loved me to the end.”
“An end you helped her find. She died as a result of the injuries you caused.”
His eyes narrow, and my body instinctively reacts to the flash of anger in them. That flash was a prelude to one of us being slapped across the room.
My throat heats, and I’d love to shove these barriers out of the way and let him try it.
“I guess you boss people around now. Is that right, boy?” He lunges forward, speaking in a low hiss. “You don’t boss me.”
I lean back in my chair, relaxing into my cool grin. “Be thankful for that glass. Striking me now would be your last mistake. Now answer my question.”
Our eyes clash and hold. We’re locked in a silent battle for a moment, two… three…
Until he sits back with a chuckle. “Looks like you got a bit of the old man in you after all. Is that what’s got you worried? Afraid you’ll turn out like me? Don’t want to give up your fancy suit, your cushy lifestyle? Don’t get cocky, boy. Half of you is me.”
I turn his words over in my mind, thinking about what they mean.
Perhaps there was a time when this man wasn’t a feral beast. Perhaps if that part of him had been stronger, I might feel a kinship. As it is, my insides are empty as a ghost town, and I have nothing for him but contempt.
Standing, I slide my palm down the front of my blazer. “I don’t see anything I recognize here.”
I tap on the door, and a guard appears to open it. Stepping into the hall, I pause when he calls after me. “You’re no better than me.”
“Actually, I am. I just needed to see it.”
* * *
I’m speeding down the Interstate from Providence, turning east and following the highway farther out to the coast.
After I settled my adopted father’s estate, I swore I’d never return to this strip of land on Aquidneck Island.
When I was a kid, Drake avoided all activities on the island. He didn’t go to parties or host dinners. His castle-like manor was as silent as a tomb.
It wasn’t on Bellevue Avenue, where the Gilded Age mansions of the Vanderbilts and the Astors were located. He preferred a remote location farther south, where we were completely isolated.
Every year, when the America’s Cup would come to town, I’d stand on the roof as the people gathered to watch the sailors race around the coast.
He would be in his study admiring his latest find, and I would gaze down, longing