Torn - Cynthia Eden Page 0,75
Harry Vann arrived, saying they had to surrender Victoria’s phone and needed to step the hell back from his case.
His case . . . like they hadn’t busted ass helping the PD. But now that the news crews were closing in, Vann had tightened ranks. They were out. Only the cops were in.
Vann had told them to stay away from the hospital. Yeah, reporters were already swarming, and Wade knew exactly what the captain had been thinking . . .
You don’t want it looking as if LOST is in charge. This is your city, your people . . . I get it, man. You want to be the one running the show.
But a pissing contest mattered for less than shit when lives were on the line.
“So what do we do?” Victoria bit her lower lip. “Stay and see what Jim has to say? Do we help the cops to—”
“We go home.”
She shook her head. “The killer is still out there. We can’t just walk away!”
They could. They would. They fucking should.
He rolled his shoulders back as he walked forward. Yeah, he was closing in on her. They were alone, and it was finally time to clear the air.
“Wade?”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Her lashes fell, shielding her gaze from him.
“No, that won’t work,” he said curtly. His fingers curled under her chin and he tilted her head back, making her look at him. “Tell me everything. I want to hear it.”
But she pulled away from him and stumbled back. “This isn’t right. I—I . . . you can’t just stand there and act all calm when you know that I killed my own father!”
Her grief was tearing straight into him.
“This isn’t you.” Victoria gave a hard shake of her head. “You should be sending me to jail. Locking me away. I killed a man. And I covered it up. For years. I’m . . . still covering it up.”
He locked his muscles so he wouldn’t follow her. She was running scared, and the wrong move from him—hell, he did not want to make any more mistakes with her. “I don’t think you know me as well as you believe.”
“What?” Her laughter held a sharp edge. “You’re going to cover for me? Is that it?”
“Tell me what happened. Everything. Then we’ll go forward from there, okay?”
Her hands fisted at her sides. “It’s not pretty. It’s not—not right. I knew what he’d done to my mother. For years, I knew. I had to live in the same house with him, and no one would believe me. Even when the cops finally started searching for her . . . even when she was declared missing, no one would listen to me.”
He wanted to touch her so badly. “You finally made them listen. You got him arrested. You—”
“Only because they found her body. But it was a paper thin case, and I knew it. I went in that court, I told my story, and he sat at the defense table, just smiling at me. A sad, patronizing kind of smile.” She swiped at her cheek.
Hell. She was crying again. Her tears gutted him, did she realize that?
“I knew the jury would find him not guilty even before the verdict was read, but I still went back into that courtroom. I guess . . . I guess I still hoped.”
He took a step closer to her, helpless now to stay away.
“Do you know what he said to me, right after he finished his press conference? A conference he held right on those courthouse steps?”
Wade shook his head. He had no clue.
“I stood there and watched him, and then he turned to take me back home.” Her smile was absolutely broken. “Because I did have to go home with him. He was my father, and I was a minor. What else was there for me to do? No one was going to help me.”
“What did he say?” Wade whispered.
“I forgive you.” Her voice was totally flat. “And he kissed my cheek.” Wade’s hand rose once more and she touched her cheek, only this time she wasn’t wiping away a tear. “Later that night, when we were alone, he broke that cheekbone.”
Rage burst through him, so sharp and hard that he lunged forward.
“Stop!” She held up her hands, as if warding him off. “If you touch me again, I won’t be able to finish this and I have to finish it!” She sucked in a ragged breath. “It was one blow. Just one. One that sent me