The Truth Be Told (The Truth in Lies Saga #3) (3 page)

“It’s good to be home,” Gavin answered.

“It’s good to see you, Mom,” Drew included.

“We’ve taken good care of Morgan and Olivia while you were away.”

“Very good care of us,” Olivia beamed.

Their mother looked over at Jared and me and smiled.  “Well, who do we have here?”

“This is McKenzie and Jared,” Drew introduced us.  My heart skipped a beat at the way he said my name.  The love that rolled off his tongue was intoxicating.  

She teetered toward me and pulled me into a hug.  I almost coughed at the strong scent of vodka that seeped from her pores.  “I’m Kathleen, but you can call me Kat.”

A groan resounded from her husband.  “Pay no attention to Jonathan.  He tends to disapprove of nicknames.”

“They’re pointless,” he noted.  “You were named Kathleen.  Not Kat.”

Kat waved him off and wobbled to Jared, hugging him up as well.  “Kathleen, control yourself.”

Her smile disappeared as she released Jared.  “I was merely trying to welcome our sons’ guests into our home.”

A small sound, something like a snort, came from Olivia, who was now leaning against one of the bannisters.  All eyes turned to her, and I could imagine that probably made her giddy.  She was always one who enjoyed being center of attention.

“You’ve been on your feet too long.  You should sit down,” Jonathan noted.

“I’m fine.”

“Nonsense.  You ladies should retire to the dining room.  I’m sure you have much to discuss, and there are snacks waiting for you.  I had the cook prepare those little cheddar blinis you love so much.  We need to keep your strength up for my grandson.”

“Grandson?” Drew's mouth dropped and his voice raised in shock.

“Wishful thinking,” Olivia giggled.

“I have every right to wish for a healthy grandchild.”

“That’s a first,” Drew snarled, then clamped his mouth closed.  Jonathan glared at his son, but said not another word.

Olivia jerked her head in Drew’s direction, her eyes probing for what he meant.  My stomach lurched because, from what he’d told me, his father never approved of his daughter and almost appeared to rejoice in the child’s demise.

“Let’s all head to the dining room,” Morgan interjected.  She reached for Olivia, taking her arm and settling it into hers.

“Very well.  Gentlemen, if you’ll accompany me to the library for a nightcap, we’ll leave the ladies to their planning,” Jonathan invited.

Gavin placed a sweet kiss to Morgan’s lips.  I looked at Drew, hoping he could see in my eyes that if things were different, I wouldn’t hold back in kissing him the same way.  His fists clenched and unclenched, and the vein in his forehead tightened.  I sighed, aching to touch him, to hold him, and to tell him everything would be all right.  It just had to be.

“This way, ladies.” Kat motioned for us to follow her.  

Gavin and Jared started to follow Jonathan up the stairs.  Drew moved past me, slipping his fingertips down the length of my arm.  Every inch of my skin pebbled at the warmth of his touch.  He leaned in, his lips brushing along the shell of my ear, “I love you, you know that?”

My whole body exploded, a live wire with no control.  I swallowed hard and nodded.  “I love you, too.”

“C’mon, Kenz!” Olivia shouted.

Drew moved toward the staircase and I caught sight of his father staring down on us.  Drew appeared unfazed by his father’s disapproving stare, but it rattled me to the core.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” I called back, making haste to follow the women to where they’d disappeared.  The heat of Drew’s gaze followed me from the room.  Between his father’s watchful eye and Drew’s determination to tempt me, this week was going to be a hell for me.  

Andrew

Nothing about this house ever changed.  My father made sure of that.  And walking into his office, I was reminded of the countless times I stood here in trouble for some reason or another.  I loved books, always did, but this office, a library filled with tomes of greatness, held nothing but memories of malice and judgment.

The rank stench of expensive cigar smoke mixed with aged scotch clouded the room.  Everything about his office was dark and rich, filled with pomp and circumstance.  He prided in his Alice Neel original and his pure oak desk brought over from England in 1902.  My father was obsessed with anything of historical value, but not once did he show any of that pride or care toward me.  I hated this room because in it housed everything he held dear, and I was only ever allowed in here when he felt the need to remind me I would never be good enough.

“Thank you for joining us, Andrew,” my father’s vacant intonation expressed his discontent as I entered the room.

“No thanks necessary.  I really had no choice, now did I?” I smarted off.

I caught a glimpse of Gavin, who was striking his finger across his throat, signaling for me to stop before I got started.  He didn’t understand there was never going to be an end for me.  There was too much bad blood between our father and me, and that was all there was to it.

“Show some respect when you’re in my house,” my father snapped, taking a step toward me.

I matched his step, puffing out my chest.  He wouldn’t intimidate me.  Not now.  I was a thirty-fucking-three year old man, not a sniveling child who only wanted my father to love me.   “Respect is earned,
Father
,” I spat.

The vein in my father’s temple pulsed as he took yet another step toward me.  His teeth bared and his eyes weighing me, I waited for him to say something, anything, for when he did, I would pounce.

“What a lovely office you have here, Mr. Wise,” Jared called out.  

My father jerked around, the mask he wore to please the masses restored.  A fake smile planted on his pearly whites.  “Thank you, Jared.”  

Jared turned around to one of the many bookshelves.  “Are there any originals here?”

Saved by Jared.  Mentioning my father’s prize collection would always trump putting me in my place.  In a matter of seconds, Father had left me standing unmoved, stewing in my hatred for him.  Gavin walked over to me, smacking me across the back of the head.  “Seriously, Bro.  We’re here all of fifteen minutes and you’re already sparing with the old man!”

“He started it,” I mewled.

“And you just had to finish it.”

“I can’t help it.  You know he pushes my buttons on purpose.”

“Yes, and you let him.  Control it, Drew, please.  For me.  It’s my wedding week, for Christ’s sake.  I deserve this.”

Guilt washed over me.  Gavin was the one person in the world, besides Andie, who’d always stuck up for me.  Especially where our father was concerned.  I owed him for all the times he pulled me out of a drunken stupor, and most of all for all the times he believed in me when no one else did.  For that, I patted him on the shoulder.  “I will do my best…for you.”

“That’s all I ask.”

“How about a drink?” Father mentioned.  

Jared had a novel, aged and fringed around the edges, in his hand.  He looked impressed, and why shouldn’t he be?  He was holding a book in his hand that was worth more than he’d make in a lifetime.  “Sure…I mean…yes, sir.  Please.”

I rubbed my hand over my face.  Poor Jared.  I might not be his biggest fan, but even I hated watching the intimidation my father caused him.  I dropped down onto the barrister sofa, which squeaked under my weight.  Gavin sat down next to me, crossing his ankle over his knee.

Father ambled to a table set aside with his favorite scotch and glassware.  He arranged four glasses and picked up the decanter.  I gulped in air, staring at each glass as he poured.  One of those was marked for me.  My mouth began to water and my hands shook.  If he handed me the glass, I wasn’t sure I could keep from drinking it.  I couldn’t fall off the wagon again.  Not after everything I confessed to McKenzie last night.  She deserved me at my best, no matter how much a drink would help me endure my father.  My life, as screwed up as it was, was starting to turn around.  One drop of that warm liquid on my tongue could ruin everything.

Gavin leaned into me.  “Calm down, little brother.  I’ve got this.”

I nodded, scared of uttering a single word.  Because if I did, I’d probably curse my father.  He knew my predicament.  Hell, he knew my mother’s, as well.  But he refused to believe that either of us were alcoholics.  The only difference between my mother and me was I had a support system that kept me in line.  My mother’s only support system was the bottle of booze my father shoved into her hand anytime she annoyed him, which was pretty much whenever she opened her mouth.

With a shit-eating grin on his classic mug, our father headed straight toward Gavin and me with two glasses, one in each hand.  “The Macallan,” he bragged, placing a glass in each of our hands.  

My throat felt dry, my hands clammy, and all I could do was stare at the deep amber liquid.  Beads of sweat formed over my brow and my breathing felt forced and ragged.  

Father turned his back on us, and before I realized what was happening, Gavin gulped down his drink and took the glass from my hand, replacing it with his empty one.  I tilted my head, taking in my brother.  His grin was proud and smug.  I mouthed, “Thank you,” to him.

“Told you I had it.”

As Father handed a glass to Jared, he returned the book he was holding back to its rightful spot on the shelf, and followed him to the sitting area where Gavin and I lounged.  They each took a seat on the sofa adjacent from us, and my father looked upon my empty glass with disapproval on his face.  “You couldn’t wait until the toast?  I don’t recall raising you in a barn.”

I said nothing.  Father gritted his teeth and held his glass toward Gavin.  “To a successful partnership.”

It took everything inside me to bite my tongue.  He was treating my brother’s upcoming nuptials like a business proposal, but that shouldn’t have surprised me, seeing our family business was created on the foundation of failing marriages.  It always struck me as odd how our family enforced such an antiquated philosophy of no divorce when we made millions of dividing families everyday.

I clasped my fingers around my empty cup and added, “To a long and happy marriage.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Jared agreed and put the cup to his lips.

“As will I.”  Gavin gulped down his second, making sure there was no alcohol near me.

Instead of taking a drink, Father placed his on the end table and leaned back in his seat.  “So, McKenzie Evans.  What should I know about this young woman?” he paused. “Since the last time I checked, you and Olivia were having a child together.”

“Has she had a paternity test in the last week that I’m unaware of?” I popped off.  “Because until she does, it’s not a proven fact that Olivia is carrying my child.”  If they all only knew how much I wanted the baby to not be mine.  I despised the disconnect I felt with this child.  My hatred stemmed from the mother—I knew that—but I couldn’t make myself feel something I didn’t.

Father leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  His tie dangled from his throat between his hands, his sharp gaze burned right through me.  “For once in your life could you please take responsibility for your actions instead of trotting off to the next whore you can stick your dick in?”

“Father!” Gavin resounded.  Jared looked like he was ready to attack.

My father sat back in his seat, a smug air surrounding him.  “I’m not a fool, Andrew.  I saw how you were with Ms. Evans tonight.  The stench of lust is all over the two of you.”

“Lust,” I spat.  I sat the cup in my hand on the coffee table and pushed to the edge of my seat.  “Let me tell you something, Father.  I’m lucky to have any kind of affection from that woman after what I’ve put her through.  What we have transcends lust, but then you wouldn’t know how that feels, would you?”

“Oh, so now you’re going to tell me you’re in love with her, just like you were so in love with Rebecca Sloan.  We all saw how well that turned out.”

My eyes cut to Jared.  Anger and confusion colored his expression.  

“Leave Rebecca out of this,” I advised.

“As if I could.  You’re a spoiled, selfish child who thinks he has no use for propriety.  Your fling with McKenzie ends tonight.  You brought enough shame on this house when you divorced Rebecca.  I won’t allow you to shame it further by not marrying Olivia.”

“Divorced,” Jared gargled.

My father’s mouth twisted.  “I see you haven’t been forthcoming with your friends.  Does McKenzie know of your past transgressions?  Hmm?  Rebecca.”  His tongue darted out over his lips, and before the word even left his mouth, I felt it hit me like an arrow to the heart.  “Autumn.”

Every bone in my body turned to mush.  My heart lurched into my throat.  Tears swam at the corners of my eyes.  “Don’t you dare,” I growled.  “You leave her out of this.”

“You brought her into it when you brought that woman in my house.  How dare you defile my home for your selfishness.”

“Enough!” Gavin bellowed.  He jumped from his seat, throwing his hands in the air.  “Enough!  Jesus Fuck!  Can’t you simply let it go for one week?  Both of you!  This is my week.  My wedding.  Stop badgering Drew for shit you couldn’t control.  Gah!”

“I’m not badgering Andrew.  I’m stating a fact that your brother married a woman against my wishes, procreated with her, murdered his child, and then divorced the woman because of an alleged act of infidelity.  I can’t begin to count the number times I had to bail your brother out because of that one mistake.”

I sat there, listening to my father recount everything I’d done.  The room was a blur.  Every voice faded.  All I could hear was the sound of my heartbeat.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

It pushed the blood through my undeserving veins, spelling out the hatred I carried for myself and what I’d done.  A hand gripped my shoulder.  “Murder!  He did not murder his daughter!” Gavin bellowed.  “Do you even hear yourself?  What happened that night was an accident, Father, and you know it.”  Gavin squeezed my shoulder harder.  I tried to breathe but found it difficult to inhale.

“As for McKenzie Evans, she is a friend of mine and Morgan’s.  You will treat her as you would any other guest in this house.”

Never had I heard so much authority come from my brother, especially not directed at our father.  

“Is that all?” Father asked, his brow lifted, almost daring Gavin to continue, yet there was a hint of pride in his expression.

Gavin plopped back down beside me.  He exhaled and crossed his arms over his chest.  “Yes, sir.”

“Good.  Now, I do believe we have some planning to do for your bachelor party.  That is what we’re here for.  I was able to book a room at The Union Club, so that means nothing stupid like strippers.”  He cut his eyes to me as he uttered the word ‘strippers,’ as if he was expecting me to protest.  

I sat there and said nothing.  My mind and heart were complete mush.  All these years and not once had my father come right out and called me a murderer until tonight.  Yes, Autumn’s death had been a terrible accident, caused by my hands, but to be called out as a murderer…I had no words.  I was devastated.  If my own father thought of me as a murderer, could it be possible that McKenzie felt the same?

“Stop it,” Gavin leaned over and whispered.  “Don’t you dare let him get to you.”

I nodded.  Gavin would defend me no matter what, but the truth was, I was everything my father claimed me to be.  McKenzie deserved so much better than that.

I felt a tiny buzz in my pocket.  Pulling my phone out, I swiped the screen to find a new text message awaiting me.

McKenzie Evans:
We’ll survive this.  I promise.  I love you.

All of the damage done by my father, everything he said to tear me down, was put right with one little text message.  I quickly tapped out a response.

I love you, too, my angel.