Turbulent Intentions (Billionaire Aviators #1) - Melody Anne Page 0,67

Cooper’s father and I lived a privileged life. We knew only excess, but excess doesn’t make for a happy life, at least not when you live under the abusive hand of an alcoholic father and a mother too weak to stand up for herself, let alone us. Of course, in those days, people kept to themselves and the help didn’t dare intervene or stop the beatings. All they could do was console us and cover our bruises with fine clothing. As children, we needed an escape, a place to freely wander and explore, to be children, free from the oppression of our drunken father and his plans to shape us into the rulers of his financial empire.” He paused, seemingly looking into the past by the glaze in his eyes.

Stormy didn’t interrupt.

“Bill was five years older than me, so I was only ten years old when he met Evelyn. It was love at first sight, even though they were so young. Evelyn’s family was all farmers, but they were pilots, too, mostly crop dusting and such. Well, in any case, never mind what a looker Evelyn was, Bill could have her—I was instantly in love with the airplanes. It took Bill a little longer to become infatuated, but soon both of us spent our summer days flying. It was an escape from our father. He eventually noticed we weren’t home much anymore. He decided to show us what a real man he was when he found out we’d rather hang around a poor farmer than in the luxury of our expensive home.”

Stormy wanted to tell Sherman he could stop talking. She could see how much pain this story was causing him. But she didn’t say a word and he continued on.

“I know this is about the past, but it influences what happened later with Bill and the boys,” Sherman said apologetically.

“I want to know,” she told him gently while laying a hand on his arm, hoping to ease the pain but knowing she couldn’t.

“We got home from Evelyn’s house one day and Father was drunk and pissy. He told us there were union men who were trying to encourage a general strike. Of course, Father wasn’t going to allow that, and he wanted us to see exactly what he was going to do about it, how he was going to deal with anyone who openly opposed him.”

“Oh, Sherman . . .” Stormy was afraid she knew where this was going.

“It’s okay, darling. It was a long time ago. Our father told us that the common men were nothing more than savage beasts, that their role in life was to support those smart enough to make the money. Money was what ruled the world. Without it, people were nothing. Hell, had Bill not met Evelyn, the both of us might have eventually believed that crap,” he said, obviously horrified at the idea.

“Bill and I were silent on the drive to the mill. But the driver didn’t even fully stop the car before our father jumped out at the main gate, having spotted the union rep. In front of all of his employees, he beat the man bloody, leaving him lying on the ground unconscious.”

Stormy gasped. “No one tried to stop it?”

“You don’t understand how different times were fifty years ago. Our father controlled the town. He had all the money and provided the jobs. People were afraid. I get that now, though at the time I didn’t,” Sherman said with a shake of his head.

“I couldn’t just stand there,” Stormy said, a tear falling.

“If you had children to feed, you might feel differently,” he said. It wasn’t judgment in his tone, but acceptance.

“Bill and I had never seen anything like that. We’d seen our father in a fit of rage before, and we ourselves had experienced the brutality of his temper, but we’d never seen him nearly kill a man. We were terrified. Bill grabbed me by the arm and practically dragged me from the car. We went straight to Evelyn’s place. She was in the barn with her dad working on their old bi-plane when we stumbled in.”

“Did your father chase you down?” asked Stormy.

“No. That was the last time we saw him, actually. Later that night, Father was shot and killed by the very man he had beaten. He went to the mill that night and he never came home.”

“Oh, Sherman. I’m so sorry,” she said.

“Yes, it was tragic, but it wasn’t hard to say good-bye. He’d grown worse