Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
TRIGGER
Adoor slamming followed by my father's raised voice, saying, "I didn't say you could come in," has my hands pausing on the manila folders I was rifling through in pursuit of property lines.
Who the hell has him all riled up now?
"We need to talk, and if I wait for an invite, I'll be six feet underground." Warrick's voice is tight.
I could announce myself, but doing so would be counterproductive to the other reason I stopped by today: find out what my father knows about the Fairfields.
When I arrived, he was in the stables with Fisher and London, going over records for the next auction in Lexington, so I stopped in the house first.
"Well, get on with it, then. I ain't got all day," my father says, already exhausted by his presence alone.
"You need to help end this marriage," Warrick demands.
"That ain't gonna happen, so if that's all you came here for—"
"Was it you?" Warrick cuts him off, his footsteps suddenly sharp against the hardwood. "Did you send the Miller girl to my party?"
I press my back against the wall. Wait a second.
If Warrick is asking my dad about Cassidy, that must mean he didn't put her up to that lie.
Which also means Asha jumped to a very wrong conclusion, one that only puts more distance between her and Warrick.
But if it wasn't him, who? And why would he think my father would do something like that?
"If you continue to push me, you're not going to like it when I push back. Maybe I can't touch your land, but I have other ways of bringing men to their knees," Warrick threatens.
I take three steps toward the door, my fists clenching, ready to give him a piece of my own mind. He doesn't get to keep fucking over the people I love. But my father's response stops me cold.
"I thought you were here to talk, not sling empty threats. Maya's probably rollin' over in her grave watchin' what's become of—"
"Keep my wife's name out of your mouth," Warrick's voice explodes across the room.
Heavy footfalls echo off the floors as he starts pacing.
"I knew it was you," Warrick continues. "You're trying to take Sydney, just like you tried to take Maya, but this time the gloves are off. Maya's not here to defend you and change my mind."
Take Maya? My stomach drops. Is that what all this hate is about? My father and Warrick loved the same woman?
Something slaps onto a surface—papers, maybe—and my father asks, "What the hell is that?"
"You started this war," Warrick grinds out.
"First, by meeting with my wife and trying to get her to change her mind.
Then you sent your son to Ridgewood, knowing it was where we sent our daughter to keep her safe—safe from you.
And now this…" his voice drops lower. "You let him find that lease, you let him plant the seeds in her head, just like you did Maya.
You hate that women don't willing choose you first. Trigger's mother despised you so much that she went as far as to hide an entire pregnancy from you and then put your son up for adoption just to keep him away from you.
And then, Maya chose me, a man with colored skin, no money or title. ..a bastard. You can't—"
"Enough!" my father shouts, and I even startle.
My father rarely raises his voice. Even when he's livid, his words will sting, but he delivers them evenly.
"You have no idea how wrong you are. I'm not in the habit of telling my business, because it's mine.
You have no right to it, but maybe I'll accomplish something your wife never could, and perhaps you'll hear it for the truth that it is.
" I hear him shift, and I imagine him facing Warrick head-on.
"Trigger's mother was a young teen mom who made a mistake.
Her mistake cost me missing out on the first five years of my son's life, but you should thank her for making it, because if I didn't know what it felt like to miss out on his life, I wouldn't be entertaining this conversation now. "
"Please, do spare me your sob story." Warrick's words are clipped, dismissive. "I don't give a damn."
"And that right there is why you're losin' your daughter." My father's voice sharpens like a blade. "This ain't got nothin' to do with you and me, and you know it. You've kept too much from her, and now it's catchin' up with you."
He's hit the nail on the head. That's exactly why Asha has pulled away. She's tired of being lied to. The question is, what lies is Warrick keeping?
"I'm only here to warn you." Warrick's footsteps move closer to the door and closer to the wall concealing me. "That folder is just the beginning. Keep coming after me, Hale, and I'll make certain you regret it. One more stunt like the other night and all bets are off."
My father laughs. He actually fucking laughs, and I couldn't be more confused and prouder at the same time.
He might be riled up, but he's not scared of Warrick Fairfield.
Fear comes from a lack of knowledge and understanding, which tells me something else: I was right about my assumptions at the party.
My father knows what makes Warrick tick.
"The Miller girl was your doin', not mine, but I guess I'll take the blame for that too. I can live with that. My table will be full tonight with my son, my brother, their wives. I'll sleep just fine." He pauses, letting the words land. "You, however, will be in a cold bed, alone with your fear."
"Don't pretend to know me." Warrick's voice is defensive now. "This has nothing to do with fear or how I choose to warm my bed."
There's silence, and I can't help but wonder if it's because my father is sizing him up, choosing which battle to fight next. The tension between the two of them, the words they're sharing now…at the center of it all is Maya.
"It's got everythin' to do with fear," my father says quietly, dangerously. "Don't forget, I know things too. Not only do I know where the bones are buried, I know the stories they tell."
Fucking hell. If I didn't know better, it sounds like my father just gave credit to Asha's dark suspicions about her father surrounding Maya's death.
"I reckon we're done here. I don't know what's in that folder. You can come after me, bankrupt me all you want, but we both know you'll lose more than just Asha in the process."
My brain is in overload, trying to fill in the missing pieces and read between all the things my father isn't saying.
Who else would Warrick lose besides Asha?
He has to be referring to Sydney. There's no one else.
If Warrick takes down our operation, Fisher and Sydney lose business too.
Hale Ranch has had a shared partnership with the Downs family for decades.
They own the tracks. We breed the horses that will eventually race on them.
Sure, we aren't the only breeders out there, but our families have history.
However, history aside, if he takes us down, he hurts Sydney in the process.
"We'll see," Warrick says before heavy footfalls strike the wood floor, and the front door opens and closes with an echoing click.
I know where the bones are buried.
What the hell have I just stumbled into?
For a long moment, there's nothing but silence. Then I hear my father exhale a long, heavy breath. Now, probably isn't the best time to ask twenty questions, but the way I see it, there never will be.
"What was that about?" I ask, stepping out of the office, and I find him standing in the middle of the living room, staring down at what I now know is an envelope.
"Just your new father-in-law stoppin' by with well wishes," he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he works to open the envelope Warrick dropped on the table.
"Don't lie to me. Warrick does enough of that. I heard what you guys were talking about."
My father's eyes flash up to mine, but in them I don't see surprise. I see knowing. He knew I was listening.
"What do you know about Cassidy?" I ask, feeling like it's the lighter question to start with, considering the dark note his conversation with Warrick ended on.
"I hear the town gossip." He doesn't look up from the envelope, his fingers working at the seal. "You don't think I pay attention when I hear my son's supposedly gonna be a father?"
"I'm not," I start.
"I know." He holds up his hand and starts toward the kitchen.
"And?" I prompt impatiently, following hot on his heels. "That's all you're going to say about it?"
"Warrick's been lookin' for more land for some time now, knowin’ the lease was expirin’," he says, setting the envelope down on the granite.
"Rumor has it he looked at the Miller farm.
It ain't no secret that Warrick Fairfield's held a grudge against this family since he rolled into town.
" He moves to the bourbon cabinet, pulls down one of his small-batch labels.
"The Miller family needs to sell to keep their business runnin'.
I think Cassidy took it upon herself to tell stories in hopes of gainin' a sale. "
He pours two fingers of bourbon and examines the amber color in the light.
"If she split the two of you up, I reckon she thought she'd win Warrick's favor and land that sale.
" He caps the bottle and sets it aside. "But because he can't stand the thought of him bein' the reason he's losin' his daughter, it's my fault.
" He raises the glass to his lips and pauses. "Just like it was all those years ago."
"What does that mean?" I press incredulously, moving around the island to face him. "All those years ago with Maya?"
He takes a long drink instead of answering, his eyes closing briefly.
"It means I hope you love her, son," he says quietly, his accent softening with the weight of his words.
"Because he's gonna pull out everythin' in his arsenal to break you two apart.
" He slides the envelope Warrick left across the granite island toward me.
"If I don't help him end your marriage, we ain't goin' to Lexington next week. "
I snatch up the envelope and pull out the documents, my eyes scanning rapidly. A formal HPA complaint concerning Hale Ranch.
"This is garbage," I fume as I look over the list. "Painful treatments, misrepresentation of horse health, sub-par facilities… Is he joking?"
"It doesn't matter if he is. An active investigation would keep us out of the auction." He sets his glass down. "Could tie us up for months, maybe longer."
"This has gone too far." I slam the papers down on the counter. "You need to tell me what you know. What really happened between you two? This isn't just about land or business. I heard what he said in there. About Maya, about you trying to take her from him."
My father's hand tightens around his glass. "That ain't—"
"Don't." I cut him off, my voice sharper than intended. "Don't brush me off. Not this time. I'm not a kid anymore, and Asha is my wife. Whatever history you two have, it's affecting my marriage now. I deserve to know."
He studies me for a long moment, his face unreadable. Then he lets out a slow exhale, and I feel its weight.
"You're right," he admits, surprising me.
He picks up the bourbon bottle again and pours another finger into his glass.
"You deserve to know. But it ain't a simple story, son.
And it ain't all mine to tell." He swirls the bourbon.
"I keep my word. And I gave it away a long time ago.
" He pauses, his jaw working. "I ain't keepin' Warrick's secrets.
I'm keepin' hers. It's her secret that haunts him, that owns his fear. "
He takes a slow sip, his weathered hands steady on the glass.
"And as much as that man gets under my skin, I leave it alone because I understand it," he says, his voice heavy with something I can't quite name.
"Once you know his fear, you can't unknow it.
" Then, lifting his eyes to mine, he holds my gaze with an intensity that makes my chest tighten. "And you'll share it."
His words settle over me like a death sentence. Whatever Warrick Fairfield is so desperately trying to hide, whatever drove Maya to make my father swear his silence, it's the kind of truth that doesn't just change everything. It destroys it.