All of the Lights (24 page)

When he glances my way again, something like recognition flickers across his face and he nods. He won't ask the question because I just don't think either of us really want to talk about it, but my answer would be the same. I have no interest in tracking Roark Callahan down, getting in his face, and demanding to know why he refused my existence. I don't need to know because I don't need anything from him. He's gone the last 27 years without so much as a glance my way, so why would I bother reaching out to him now? Why would I invite yet another father into my life who's done nothing but ignore me?

Something splinters inside me and a hard laugh vibrates in my throat. Jack's head snaps in my direction, startled by the abrupt burst of emotion. I am, too. But now that it's started, I don't think I can stop.

I shake my head, but I still can't stop laughing.

It's over. He doesn't have a hold over me anymore. I don't have to allow the guilt trips and the tears and the loneliness and the confusion and the bitterness to overtake my life anymore.

I'm free of him. Both of them. I don't have to have either of them in my life because they haven't earned it.

"Rae?" Jack's voice is hesitant and I can see it on his face before I even look at him.
Oh God, she's finally snapped.

My head turns and I smile. "You know, all I ever wanted was for him to love me. I thought if I did my best in school, if I got As, if I took first place in a track meet, if I did everything he asked without question, if I was just a good person, he would see that and he would love me for it." Another hard laugh bursts from my throat and I shake my head. "None of that mattered though, did it? There was nothing I could've ever done that would've made a difference to him. And then I just wanted his attention, you know? After a certain point, I just wanted him to
see
me. So I went to my first party and just got completely plastered and then when we were all hauled to the precinct, I was jealous of all the other kids there because
their
parents actually showed up to get them. The mayor sent his driver."

Jack shifts in the pew and his head dips down toward his clenched hands.

"I don't think I even really knew why I was doing it until it was already too late. And then it just sort of all spiralled out of control from that first party. At first it was fun and I knew I was doing something he wouldn't like, something that would piss him off. It didn't matter how he punished me or what he threatened me with; I guess it was better than him not speaking to me at all. Then after awhile, it was the only thing that made me feel better. It made me numb for awhile and that was all that mattered," I shoot him a quick glance over my shoulder; I don't know why I need to clarify this, but I just know I have to do it anyway. "I only went to rehab twice, by the way. I lost track of how many times the press reported it though. Six times? Seven?"

He lifts a shoulder and runs a hand over his mouth, still unable to meet my eyes. "I think it was more like four or five."

I huff out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, that sounds about right. It sure made for a good story. Like mother, like daughter, right? The only one that really pissed me off was when they said I was a heroin addict. He even fought that one, mainly because it just made him look even worse, but still. I never touched drugs. It was only ever alcohol...not like that's really any better. The first time I fought him every step of the way and the second I was out, I just went back to old habits. The second time...that time I knew I needed to do something so I didn't end up like her."

It feels strange talking so openly about this, so openly about
her
, especially given my audience. Jesus and Jack don't seem to judge as easily as I thought they would though. In fact, it seems like they might even understand.

"He had to have known, right?" I ask and now, I don't know which one of them I'm talking to. "He had to have known I wasn't really his daughter...or at the very least, had a pretty good idea. It just all makes so much more sense now. It was just easier to pass me off as his kid—it's not like he actually raised me himself. All he had to do was hire a nanny and avoid the scandal. I guess it was already bad enough that my mom killed herself because he couldn't hide that."

And if Roark Callahan wasn't going to come anywhere near me, it wasn't like the mayor could exactly pass me off to an adoption agency without anyone finding out what happened to me. The more I think about it, about the two of them together, lying and cheating, about him abandoning her and then her abandoning me, the more I come undone.

"You know what pisses me off the most?"

His hoarse voice feels like it's right in my ear. "What?"

"She threw her life away over a guy. A selfish, completely unavailable guy who changed his mind about her. How wasteful is that? How
stupid
is that? Who cares about the newborn you have at home, right? Who cares that you have someone depending on you? Nope—just kill yourself over some guy. Great choice, Mom."

Jack doesn't reply, but that isn't the point.

"I always thought it had something to do with postpartum. I was only a month old when she did it, so that just made the most sense. Maybe something with addiction, too. Or both. Maybe it was a little bit of everything."

Now that I've actually said it out loud, the logic seeps underneath everything I'd ever been told about my mom's death. If all those things were true—the postpartum and the addiction issues—then Roark's rejection would be the thing to push her over the edge.

"Do you think he ever got that last letter?"

Jack sighs heavily and for the first time since I'd started talking, his grey eyes find mine. None of the things I'm used to seeing are there. Instead, there's sympathy. A little bit of compassion. Some understanding, too. What I don't like seeing there is pity. I don't need him feeling sorry for me anymore than I need him sitting here right now.

"No," he murmurs finally. "I don't think so. If he did, I think he would've at least met with her one last time if he wasn't going to..."

He trails off, casting a quick apologetic glance to me before settling his gaze back on his hands.

"You want to know what I think happened?" Bitterness is wafting from me in waves, but I can't stop it. My resentment is all I have right now and no one can take that away from me. "I think she did send the letter and someone read it. Doesn't mean that person was your dad though."

The words,
your dad
, spit out as sour as they taste. Jack narrows his eyes at me.

"Yeah," he shakes his head. "You would think that."

I just lift a shoulder. "It makes sense, though, doesn't it? Your mom goes out to get the mail one day, completely oblivious, and bam! There's this letter from his mistress about his dirty little secret. I bet she tore it up and burned the pieces."

And if I were her, I'd leave his ass in the dust, too. But I don't know this woman anymore than I know her spineless coward of a husband.

His entire body stiffens next to me and a tight line ticks down his jawline. Bad-mouthing his mom was clearly a risky move, but right about now, I don't feel so bad. Right about now, I feel like they all deserve worse.

"If she did find that letter, if your mom even sent it," Jack practically growls through clenched teeth. "There's no way she'd do that. She'd show it to my dad and make him tell her the truth. She'd never sweep it under the rug like that and pretend it never happened."

"You sure?" I lift my eyebrows at him. "Seems like your family is pretty good at that."

He doesn't disappoint and his eyes immediately slant darkly. "Look, I get why you feel this way. I really do. But you don't know who you're talking about. We have no idea what really happened and unless you decide you wanna talk to my dad about it, we may never know. But until we know, you need to be careful what you say about people yah know nothing about. And, I don't know, maybe think before you speak. You were wrong about Father Lindsay and your mom and you're wrong about this too."

My mouth drops open and heat flushes to my cheeks. His little rant was way calmer than I'd ever given him credit for. A little too
calm.
Deadly calm. And at the end of the day, he's also dead-on. I have no business running my mouth about things I don't know about. But I'm bitter. I'm hurt. I'm confused. And so, so broken. I don't know any other way to react than to lash out and since the two people I really want to smack aren't here, I'll just have to take what I can get.

And on some level, I understand this knee-jerk reaction to defend them. After all, these are also the same people who took him in and raised him when there was no one else. Who knows where he would be if not for them? If I were him, I'd want to believe they were good people, too. I'd want to see the best in them, not the worst, because I loved them. Just like all children, he's grown up believing they'd always tell him the truth, that they'd always have his best interest in mind, not their own. And just like the story he told me about his biological dad's death, he believes exactly what they've told him to believe. I really can't fault him for that.

"Sorry," I mumble and keep my gaze firmly latched ahead of me. Seeing his expression right now is something I can live without.

The only response I get is a deep, heavy sigh.

Even though I've ruined whatever understanding we just gained, I still need to clarify where we stand.

"Jack?"

His head shifts just enough to let me know he's listening.

"Do you think you could keep this just between us? I just...I don't think it's a good idea to tell anyone we know just yet. I don't know what my—what the mayor would do if he knew. And we'll be able to keep digging if he doesn't suspect anything."

Jack nods quickly and squints at me a little, trying to figure me out. "So you still want to keep trying?"

My gaze snaps to him and I look him right in the eye. "Yes. I told you when we first started all this that all I want is to get Sean out of prison and that hasn't changed. Especially now that I know he's..."

The words are stuck in my throat, sticking to me like honey.
He's my brother. Sean is my brother.

That's it. That's all it takes. Tears prick my eyes and my jaw trembles from the effort of keeping it all at bay. Maybe there is a silver lining here after all. Today, I've finally learned Valentino Moretti doesn't have any hold over me. Today, I've gained a brother. Two brothers, actually—Brennan and Sean.

In this case, blood does matter. Blood has changed everything.

A lone tear slips down my cheek and I wipe it away just as quickly before I finally let myself look at Jack again. He's watching me carefully, meticulously scrutinizing my every movement for some sign of falseness, but he isn't going to find it. Then the expression shifts and his mouth twists a little when he looks down at his hands again.

"Good," he tells me quietly. "I'm glad you're not giving up.
I
don't wanna give up."

"Neither do I," I whisper. "Do you think it'd be alright if I visited Sean again tomorrow? I really want to see him."

He doesn't hesitate and nods tightly. "I'm sure Sean would be pretty happy to see you again."

And maybe he'd finally give us some concrete answers this time, too.

I LET BENNETT and Jack bring me back to my apartment, but that's as far as they get. Bennett, of course, wants to come in and finagle his way into spending the night to make sure I don't do something stupid, like drink three bottles of wine in one sitting. That's not going to happen because I don't need a babysitter and because through the years, I've actually learned a little bit of self-control.

So he stomps his foot a little when I won't let him inside, but the second Freya saunters up to the door, Bennett's lips curl up in horror. Freya doesn't waste a second and goes into uber-defense mode, every side of her mouth pulled back in a formidable hiss for such a small thing. Bennett hisses right back at her then hightails it back to his car where Jack sits, watching the whole scene with a mixed expression of amusement and confusion. There's some pointing and Bennett mouths, "
That cat is nuts",
before the little Prius finally takes its leave from the parking lot.

I glance at my cat and reach down to run my fingers over the silky black fur on her head. She sits up on her hind legs to give me better access, purring away like a kitten.

"You're not nuts," I murmur to her and scoop her up in my arms so I can close the door. "Benn's just a drama queen. One of these days you two are going to have to figure your shit out though."

I pad along to my bathroom as Freya nuzzles the bottom of my chin and I set her down right next to the sink, where I know she'll stay until I leave. She's standing guard now, on high alert as I run the water in the tub.

"Don't worry, baby," I tell her softly. "Mommy's not throwing you in the tub."

That seems to relax her and her yellow eyes glow perceptively. She knows something's up because the only time I take baths are when I need to decompress or when I've had an intensely trying day. This particular day falls into both of those categories. So when I sink into the warm, vanilla-scented bubbles, my eyes close and I finally let it all wash over me.

I see my selfish mother with a bottle of pills in her hand. I see her waiting for a letter that will never come. I see my spineless father making the conscious decision to forget my mother's existence, and then mine. I see the mayor, furious, hateful, and resentful, purposefully neglecting me at every opportunity. I see Sean, my brother...God, my
brother,
sitting in a prison cell, a victim of circumstance just as much as me. And finally, I see myself, spending years wading through confusion and loneliness, searching for some sort of belonging that I'd never find, but never knew why.