36. Sarah
36
SARAH
“I don't think it's wise for you to go out.”
She doesn't think it's wise for me to do anything except sit on my ass and pray Peter gets tired of hunting me. Or better yet, tell Ian I'm pregnant and hope everything works well.
She's not said it since we got here, but the look she gives me every time Ian's name comes up is every indication.
She thinks she knows him. That he's a perfect man and doesn't deserve the truth to be kept from him. Well, I do know he doesn't deserve the truth to be kept from him, but he's certainly not a perfect man.
And I shouldn't be made to feel terrible for putting myself first for once in our history, which by the way, she's well aware of!
“Auntie, please, just let me go.”
She's in my path, trying to talk me out of leaving the house and the estate because I might run into Peter.
Truth is, I'm actually counting on running into him. If he's so desperate to see me, then I might as well make it easy for him and give him what he wants. Which will only be to tell me that I'm a despicable person for not wanting to help our father again.
It doesn't matter, though. All I'll do is tell him I'm sorry and then inform him that if he so much as tries to come anywhere near me and my daughter again, I'll go to the police. Of course, I won't do that, but he doesn't have to know. And for a man with his history, he would do anything to not have the cops after him again, right?
Shit.
This is a shitty plan, isn't it?
But I've got nothing else, so I'm sticking with it.
I also need to get out of the house. I'm feeling so confined it's a miracle I've not lost my cool yet. I need to take a walk, clear my head, maybe go to the bar and hope Peter finds me there. If he doesn't, it still doesn't matter. I'll at least feel better from the stroll.
“No. I don't think you should leave.”
“So, what are you going to do? Stand in my way all night and not go to bed?”
“If that's what it takes to get your act straight.”
My act straight?
Damn it. She's been coming at me for my decision-making. It's starting to piss me off.
“What's that supposed to mean? If you think I'm so terrible at decision-making, how about you just turn around right now and go back to your house where everything is perfect and you've never crossed a line before,” I bark.
She flinches at my words. A hurt look comes over her face.
“You think I'm judging you?” she asks in disbelief.
“I don't think so. I know you are. And you've been doing it ever since I got pregnant with Olivia!”
“That's not true, and you know it. I've done nothing but support you since you had that girl.”
“Maybe that's true, but how about the way you've been looking at me since I conceived this new child? You want to tell me you're not disappointed in me?”
She smiles at my words. It pisses me off.
“What's funny?” I snap.
She shakes her head, lets out a low chuckle, and then moves out of the way. Turning to watch her move, she goes to sit, and I remain standing, watching her and at loss for what just happened.
Isn't she supposed to be mad at me since I pretty much lashed out at her?
“Come sit beside me, Sarah,” she says, patting the space beside her.
I huff a breath of frustration. “Look, Auntie, I'm sorry that I raised my voice. I'm just so frustrated right now, which is why I need you to let me go. We'll talk when I get back, okay?”
“Okay.” She nods.
“Okay?” I ask her in disbelief. I expected her to argue. Why is she suddenly not doing that?
“Yes, Sarah. Okay. You go out, get some time to yourself, and come back here in one piece, okay?”
Staring at her, I find it hard to gather my words for a few seconds. Eventually, I clear my throat and nod.
If she's dropping her offense, then I'm not going to make her pick it back up.
“Okay.”
I walk toward the door and pull it open. Just when I'm about to step out, she calls my name.
Can't say I didn't see that one coming.
Sighing, I wait a few seconds to draw in a deep breath before I turn around to address her.
“Yes, Auntie?”
“If anyone has ever judged you, it's certainly not me. All I've done is try to guide and support you to the best of my capacity. Now, if somehow you've started feeling judged, then maybe it's not me you should be pointing a finger at. Maybe it's you. So, you go out there, have your walk, ensure that asshole gets nowhere close to you, but while you're at it, take some time to think if I'm who you should be angry at right now.”
She gets on her feet and walks away, leaving me feeling a thousand times worse.
Crap.
She's right. Goodness. I've been the one judging myself all this while, projecting it on her.
Banging my head against the door a couple of times, muttering how stupid I am, I finally pull myself together and step out.
Ian is on his porch when I glance at the mansion. Our eyes meet, and he instantly stands up, walking to meet me in front of the bungalow.
Shit.
He's going to try to talk me out of this, too.
“Do you need something?” he asks when he's in front of me.
I shake my head in a negative way. “No, I… I just need to take a stroll.”
“Okay, I'll come with you,” he immediately offers.
“No, Ian. I need some time alone.”
He nods, pushes his hand into his pockets, and takes a step back. “Alright, just don't leave the estate.”
Yeah, that's the thing.
“Ian… I'm going to the bar.”
“No way, Sarah. He could still be in town.”
I'm actually counting on it.
“I know, but I promise you I'll be fine. I'll stay in the open, and he won't be able to do anything. I just need to clear my head.”
“Staying in the open will not change anything. You want to clear your head? Well, do it within the estate. Take a walk round the acres of the properties as many times as you can. I'll have Salem fetch you a bottle of wine while you’re at it, but you're not leaving the safety of this place.”
“It's not up to you.”
“What do you mean it's not up to me? You came to me for help, and that's what I'm doing right now: helping you.”
“If you really want to help me, you'll stop telling me what to do and start realizing that I'm not a child and I can take care of myself!”
“Sarah, I?—”
“Good night, Ian.” I cut him off and start to walk away from him.
“At least take the car!” he yells after me.
Rolling my eyes, I turn around to face him. “I said I wanted to go on a stroll, not a drive.”
“Please Sarah, just take the car. It'll give me some semblance of peace while you're out.”
Looking at him, I see sincerity in his eyes, and I hear them in his words. Nodding, I give into his request and turn back inside the house to pick up my car key.
He's still outside when I come back, and he watches me as I enter the car and drive away.
It's not until I leave the estate that a breath of relief finally releases from my lungs.
When I get to the bar, I order a glass of lemonade, and it earns me a pointed look from Marlowe, the bartender, who I wouldn't exactly call a friend but isn't a stranger.
“I've just been feeling a little under the weather, and I don't want to trigger it by drinking alcohol,” I lie.
He nods and goes to fetch my order. He's back within a minute.
“Here, I got you some cookies from the kitchen, too. Whatever you're coming down with, I hope it's not too serious.”
I smile. “Thanks, Marlowe.”
“You're welcome,” he says but still doesn't leave.
He has more to say, doesn't he?
“What is it?” I ask him.
“It's just…” He trails off, a look of hesitation crossing his face.
“You can tell me,” I encourage him.
He nods and sighs, glancing behind me for a bit before he looks back at me again.
“There's this guy who’s been asking about you around town. From what I know, no one has told him anything so far, but he just walked into the bar, and he's coming toward us. I can help you escape through the kitchen, if you want.” He finishes, his words growing frantic toward the end, telling me Peter is closer to us.
“It's fine, Marlowe.”
“Are you sure?” he whispers.
“Yes.” I smile and grab my drink to take a sip. Picking up one of the cookies on the plate, I take a bite.
I feel Peter come up beside me on my left. He takes a seat before I feel his eyes turn to me.
“That looks good,” he says.
“It tastes better,” I counter.
“Mind if I take a bite?”
“Only if you promise to stop stalking me and get a life of your own,” I snap, finally letting myself face him.
There's a fat big grin on his face that leaves a huge hole in my gut.
He knows something.
He laughs and then shrugs before he stretches a hand to take one of my cookies. I slap his hand away.
“I see you're as greedy with food as you are with saving a life.”
How dare he say that to me?
“You have no idea what you're talking about!” I snap.
He nods and looks at me for a few seconds before he shrugs. “Maybe I don't know what I'm talking about. I mean, why would a daughter refuse to save her own father?” he asks dramatically, painting it like I'm a terrible person and raising his voice while at it.
“Keep your voice down!”
“Should I? Well, maybe I should, given the fact that I'm about to give you a good reason to save our father and it won't matter what made you change your mind in the first place.”
At least he's finally saying why he's here. What he doesn't know is that nothing can make me change my mind about saving Neville. It's not in my hands anymore.
“Peter, I?—”
“Kyle Austen.” He says the name arrogantly, that stupid smile back on his face.
I can't help the gasp that leaves my mouth.
There's no way he knows!
“I see I'm getting somewhere. Are you going to save our father now, or do I have to fast forward to the point where I tell you I'm going tell Kyle that you have a daughter with him, and you've been hiding her existence for over ten years?”
If I've ever wondered what it feels like to have a rug pulled out from under my feet and to fall flat on my face with no help in sight, what I'm feeling right now can't be worse.
“Peter…”
“Save it! You had the chance to do what was right, but you refused to because you're still angry that he left you for us all those years ago, and you want to make him pay.”
What?
He thinks I'm doing this for revenge?
“That's not true,” I protest.
“Then what is true? Were you not in a relationship with Kyle Austen twelve years ago? Did you not use his power and influence to sell your silly books and then run away a year later without informing him that you were pregnant? Or did you think your relationship with him was so private no one would find out?”
All I can do is stare at him as he rages on. Ian was right. This is a man I never should have underestimated.
If he goes to Kyle with this, I'm dead. Not only that, Olivia's life may as well be over. Kyle will taint her.
No way I'm ever letting that happen.
“What do you want?”
“You know what I want!”
“Well, I can't give you that.”
“I think you're still confused about who's in charge here. I don't care what you can do. You will save my father from dying, or I will tell Kyle Austen about his daughter that you've been keeping away from him all this while.”
His father?
He just doesn't get it.
Does he think I wouldn't save the man if I could?
He's just too clouded with emotions to see reason. Maybe if I appeal to his humanity, he will see things my way. Of course, I'll have to tell him the truth, though.
Can I trust him with that?
I guess I don't really have a choice here.
Drawing in a deep breath, I start to speak, mustering my most pleading expression.
“Peter, I know you think I didn’t save our father out of anger, but that's not true. The reason I had to back out is because I'm pregnant, and the doctor told me if I go ahead with the bone marrow transplant, I'll lose the child.”
By the time I'm done speaking, the pissed look that was on his face is replaced by surprise. For a few minutes, I am convinced he's going to help me. That is, until he speaks.
“You have twenty-four hours to decide whether you want to keep your daughter away from her criminal father or you want to put a child you haven’t had over the one you already have. Make no mistake, Sarah, my father is not dying because of that thing in your belly. So even if you do decide to call my bluff, I will still find another way to come after you.”
Fuck.
There's no getting out of this, is there?