Chapter 23 NOVA
NOVA
There was serenity in my soul. Maybe serenity wasn’t the correct word. I was calm. I was steady. I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t sad. Maybe it wasn’t serenity so much as having completely detached from all emotion for the past week.
I was sitting in the same chair, in the same room, as my last visit to the prison. My hands rested on the file folder full of emails and photos I’d printed out this morning. Except this time, there was no blond wig. No glasses. No suit.
I’d come as myself this Monday morning, wearing jeans and my favorite heels.
My turtleneck was thick and chunky since the weather had turned cold.
It would be snowing for Halloween this week.
My real name was etched on the check-in log.
I’d handed over my actual driver’s license for the guards to photocopy.
Technically, I was here as an attorney—not Dad’s, but the prison staff had believed I was. It was the only lie I’d told in a week.
It was strange how I’d come to measure the time by my lies. Hopefully I’d be able to go much, much longer than a week next time. Hopefully after this meeting.
I was unraveling the lies, one truth at a time.
It had taken me nearly the entire week to wrap my head around everything. To process it mentally and emotionally. I’d cried. I’d cried again. I’d had to take a few days off of work because I’d been so distraught that I hadn’t been able to concentrate.
After the fire, I’d expected the police to show up at my doorstep and haul me to jail. But the only people who’d contacted me in the days immediately afterward had been my mom and sister. Mom had invited me to lunch. Shelby had asked me over for dinner.
I’d been so on edge, waiting for my arrest, I’d declined both. Finally, when four days had gone by, curiosity had won out, and I’d searched through the Clifton Forge newspaper for a story on the fire.
Bryce Slater herself had written the article. It stated that one of the garage employees had started the fire on accident. In the public police report, Emmett had been named that employee and that he’d be paying a fine.
He’d taken the blame.
He’d protected me.
Now it was my turn to repay that favor.
The door opened with a click and Dad shuffled inside, his hands cuffed. The guard at his side gave Dad a once-over, then took me in. He was the same guard who’d been here last time. Maybe he wondered why my face was on a brunette, not a blond.
Dad’s expression flashed with surprise for a moment, then he scowled, a crease forming between his dark eyes as the guard left us alone. He took the chair across from mine. “Nova, what are you doing?”
“June.” My voice was dull and flat. Serene. Numb. I’d bled all my feelings the night of the fire. “My name is June.”
He stiffened. “What’s going on?”
I flipped open the manila folder in front of me, pulling out the first photo on top. It was a family picture, one of Dad’s real family.
He stood beside his ex-wife, their two daughters flanking them. He had his arm around the youngest. I knew their names, having memorized most of the report I’d found on the flash drive. But even though I knew their names, it was hard for me to think them, let alone say them aloud.
Emmett’s PI in South Carolina was thorough. His report was comprehensive, with enough pictures to break my heart. And my trust.
I slid the photo across the metal table.
The moment Dad recognized it, his eyes darted to mine.
“All my life, I’ve trusted you. I think you were counting on that.” He’d been counting on the fact that I wouldn’t look into his personal life. Why would I? I was his personal life, or so I’d thought.
So many of our conversations had a different color now.
During my earlier prison visits, when he’d confided in me about the Warriors, he’d made me swear to stay away from the other members. That I could know about them but, even in prison, they must never know about me. He must have been worried that one of them would slip and mention his family.
After law school, I’d asked Dad if I should apply at his attorney’s firm. He’d told me that was too dangerous. And it had been. For him.
I’d found Dad’s divorce filing at the courthouse, done by Ira. I’d found his will, also prepared by Ira. If I had found Dad’s file at Ira’s, no doubt I would have stumbled onto his other daughters.
Except why would I have searched in the first place? I trusted my father.
I used to trust my father.
I was just another part of his game. Another piece on his board.
Not anymore. I quit.
“Nova—”
“June,” I barked. “If you’re going to make excuses, you can use my name.”
He tensed, his eyes widening.
It would do him good to remember that I was in charge today. I was the one walking out of here. The rage I’d felt the night of the fire surged. So much for my serenity. I let the anger spread, warming me from head to toe. It burned beneath my skin but on the outside, I was ice.
“You will tell me the truth today.”
He had the decency to look guilty as he gave me a short nod.
“I’m sure you can guess what papers and photos I have here.” I tapped the folder.
His shoulders fell.
“Did they know about us?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Why?” Why would he go to such trouble to hide us?
“You would have been in danger. If anyone knew about you, they might have come after you.”
“But your wife and other daughters wouldn’t have been in danger?”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“I was with them.”
Right. He’d been there to protect them.
“The secret names. The random weekend visits. You hid us not from danger, but from them. From her.” I pointed to his ex-wife’s face in the photo. “You did this to hide Mom from her.”
He looked up, his eyes searching, like he didn’t recognize me. He should. This cold, calculating version of myself was entirely his making. “I loved my wife.”
“Yet she left you anyway.” There was a grim satisfaction in that. That even after all he’d done, she’d left him anyway. And, from what I’d gleaned from the PI’s report, his daughters had disowned him.
Maybe that was why he’d kept us a secret. Not to hide us, but to hide himself so that we wouldn’t see the criminal, the evil bastard he truly was.
“Does Mom know?”
“No.” He swallowed hard and when he looked up, his eyes were full of misery. Good. “Please don’t tell her.”
“I won’t tell her, but not for you. But because it would break her heart. She loves you. To know that you were married, that you have other children . . .” My hands balled into fists on the table.
My mother would be eviscerated to learn that she’d only ever been his side piece.
Just like we’d only ever been his side children.
“Did TJ know?”
He nodded. “Before he joined the club.”
“But he never told us.”
“It’s club business.”
“Oh, how I hate your fucking club.” To the depths of my soul, I hated the Arrowhead Warriors.
“The Warriors are our legacy.” His eyes narrowed, but he could glare all he wanted. It didn’t surprise me in the least that he’d pick the club over his children.
“Your legacy?” I scoffed. “No, I am your legacy. May is your legacy. These half sisters of mine are your legacy. TJ was your legacy, and you and your club are the reason he is dead.”
Dad pursed his lips, his own temper beginning to rise. “This is all coming from them.”
The Tin Kings.
“No, this is coming from me. My eyes are wide open and I’m seeing you for who you really are. You’ve had your revenge for TJ. And that is where this will end. The reason you’re in prison is because you’re a liar. Because you cheated and stole and broke the law.”
My statement went in one ear and out the other. “They will pay. For TJ. For my club.” He motioned to the photo. “For feeding you this.”
“For feeding me the truth?” Unbelievable. “Even now, you can’t own this. You’ll blame this on anyone else, just to avoid the fact that you are a liar. You are a cheater. You, a man I loved so much, are nothing.”
He met my gaze, holding it without so much as a breath.
I stared back, unblinking. If he expected me to break, he’d learn quickly that it would take more than a glare. So I sat there, returning his dead gaze until he shifted in his seat under the scrutiny in my eyes.
“You’re communicating with the other Warriors, in and out of prison, through Ira.”
“How—”
I held up a hand. “Your attorney is a fool and all it will take is a single phone call from me to the FBI to alert them to your collusion. And to the death threats you’ve made to the Tin Kings.
” Maybe it would be admissible. Probably not.
But it would certainly slow down the visits.
If all I could do was make it harder for Dad to get his revenge, then so be it.
He opened his mouth. “I—”
“Quiet.”
He clamped his mouth shut.
“You will not go after the Tin Kings.”
“They put me in here.”
“You put yourself in here.”
“They committed just as many crimes as I did.”
I lifted a shoulder. “They were smart enough to get out before they landed themselves with three consecutive life sentences.”
His dark eyebrows narrowed and a lesser person would have cowered under his furious gaze. But he’d fucked up. And I wasn’t scared in the least to call him on it. My father had no power over me, not anymore.
“It ends today,” I said. “The revenge. The schemes. The lies. It all ends today.”
He leaned back in his chair, staring at me like I was a stranger. “They’ll come after you. Your mom. Your sister. You’re a fool for trusting them.”
“No more a fool than I am for trusting you, Dad.”
“They’re playing you for a whore.”
I didn’t let myself flinch. “Maybe I have been a whore, but it was in your game, not theirs. But no more. So I’m making my final play. This ends now.”
“Never.”
“I love him.” My statement wiped the arrogance off his face.
“No.” He looked . . . panicked.