lived near here.”
Taylor studied him for a moment. “What do you mean by take?”
“My father moved us here when I was about five after he and a partner bought a hotel. From there he bought another and another. He saw this island as an investment opportunity, a place to exploit. Although, that’s not what he would’ve called it. In his mind, it was simply business.”
“And?”
“I helped him.” Bennett shrugged. “When he decided to get into the coffee business, I helped him acquire land, helped him grease palms, convince the various families that what we were offering was a good price. We bought their land for nothing and ran them off of it, forcing them to live in hamlets, like the ones you just saw, without access to clean water, electricity, or schools.”
Was Bennett trying to say he and his father had basically swindled people out of their land?
He continued, “I helped him destroy hundreds of people’s lives. The sad part was, I knew what he was doing was wrong, but I just couldn’t bring myself to stand up to him or disappoint him. I kept telling myself that what we were doing wasn’t illegal. Of course, that didn’t make it right. Those families were too simple and too trusting to realize we were cheating them. Then, after a few years, we sold the farms off to a big company. It’s how we became so wealthy.”
“Oh.” That was a pretty shitty thing to do.
“Yes. ‘Oh.’ ” He nodded in agreement.
“So why are you buying more land?” she asked.
“After my father died and I took over the company, I was here on a trip, checking up on some of the hotels we still own.” The look in Bennett’s eyes became harder and more barren, as though he was holding on to something, something painful, and trying not to allow it to take over.
He went on, “As usual, I stayed at a house we had near the beach. My father had it built after we came into our money—quite the mansion. On that day, though, I was on my cell, getting ready to drive to the other side of the island, when the alarm—a text in those days—went off. I drove like hell to get away, and I did.”
Get away? From what? Then it dawned on her. There was only one thing people on this island tried to get away from: the ocean.
“Oh God. What happened?” She was almost afraid to know the answer.
He pointed to a spot off on the horizon where there were several hills near the shoreline. “The wave hit, and I watched from up there as it carried off my son. And his mother.”
Taylor’s knees almost buckled. “Your—your son? Your wife?”
“We were never married. I’d only slept with her once, but it was enough. She and her family looked after the estate and lived there.”
“You got her pregnant,” she whispered.
He nodded. “Not by accident. By carelessness. I just didn’t care about consequences. I was eighteen when she had Wayan.”
Taylor slapped her hands over her mouth. Her heart felt like it had fallen out of a ten-story building and smashed on the cement sidewalk.
Last night when they’d been together, his reaction to their little condom fail had been so…strange. Endearing and tender, but strange. It had felt so atypical of what she expected from a man in that situation—calm and thoughtful, like he wanted to show her, or perhaps, show himself, he knew how to care.
Was this why? Was he trying not to repeat history?
“Bennett,” she said, holding back the tears. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how hard that was.”
“I didn’t love her. Yes, I cared for her, but I was too selfish, too self-absorbed to really be anything more than just some stranger who gave them money. And I felt ashamed of my son—not good enough—not one of us—not someone my father would approve of.”
“So you never told anyone about him?” she asked softly.
“No. Although my dad suspected. Wayan had my eyes. But my mother still doesn’t know. I wanted to tell her, but it would break her heart to find out she had a grandson she never got to meet.”
“But Bennett, why do you think I’d hate you or think less of you?” It was a tragedy, and he’d been young and stupid and…a real asshole. But he’s not that person anymore.
“Because when Wayan was alive, I thought money was enough. He had his mother, a home, school—I took care of him financially, but that was all. And