Chapter 18
Penny
Penny felt sick as she and Rhys walked up the hauntingly familiar driveway of her childhood home.
It had always been picturesque, a thatched cottage on a narrow street on the outskirts of London.
The first thing she noticed, strangely, was how much the climbing rose bush had grown.
It had been beneath the kitchen window the last time she’d laid eyes on it, but now it was closing in on the upstairs windows.
The bush was alive with scarlet roses, their sharp thorns hiding out of sight.
She jumped slightly as Rhys wrapped his hand around hers. It broke her single-minded focus on the cottage that held all of her nightmares within. She looked down, realising that she’d been absent-mindedly picking at her nails.
“You’re going to draw blood if you’re not careful,” he chided her softly.
“Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologise to me, Pen.”
She sent him the best approximation of a smile she could muster. Thank you, she wanted to say, but the words kept getting caught in her throat.
They needed to talk. After last night, they definitely needed to talk. Was it a one-off? Was it simply an inevitable consequence of them being alone together for an extended period of time? Or was it something he wanted to keep doing? How did he feel about her? How did she feel about him?
Penny didn’t know. They were all questions she would have been asking herself if she hadn’t woken up to Elaine’s call. After that, Penny hadn’t had room for anything except apprehension, especially now they were here.
There would be time for questions after.
The gravel crunched beneath her as she approached the front door. It was a sound she’d long since forgotten, her memories blurring with the passing of time.
With a steadying breath, Penny knocked on the door.
The sound of hurried footsteps emerged from within, and she already knew who would be opening the door. Elaine. Penny lifted her chin, ready to face the woman.
Elaine swung the door open. Her lips thinned when she saw Penny. “You took your time.”
Ten years, she thought. It had been ten years since she’d last crossed this threshold, and it showed.
For some reason, she was expecting Elaine to look just as she had, but the years had taken their toll.
Her short blonde bob was now grey, accompanied by deep lines across her forehead.
Aged webs spread from the corners of her reddened eyes.
The changes were a reminder of how much time had elapsed—and the life that Penny had carved out for herself. She supposed her own appearance must have changed, too. The last time Elaine had set eyes on Penny, she had been a dejected, tear-stained girl hoping to carve out a life for herself.
“Where is he?” Penny asked, remembering she was no longer that scared little girl.
Elaine’s disdainful focus pinned itself to Rhys. “Dining room. Who’s this?”
A business colleague whom I’ve hated for years, but we’ve spent some time together recently, and he’s actually wonderful. And fantastic in bed.
Penny decided to simplify their relationship. “A friend.”
Elaine let out a harrumph, stepping aside to let them in.
She took the first door on the left, passing beneath the heavy beams on the living room’s ceiling. Everything was almost identical to how she remembered it, even the smell. It was strange to think of how much progress she’d made in her life—her career—whilst the cottage had remained unchanged.
Penny stopped in her tracks as she opened the door to the dining room, her heartbeat hammering hard and fast at the sight of the entrance to the cellar next to the huge inglenook fireplace.
Get out, her instincts told her, roaring back to life after a decade-long lapse.
Get out, get out, get out, before Joseph shuts you in.
Her only relief was that Joseph was precisely where he belonged: prison.
She reached for Rhys’s hand. It was the only safety she could find in this wretched house.
Drawing in a steadying breath, she returned her focus to the dining room, expecting to see the same old rectangular table in front of the fireplace.
Where the table once stood was a bed.
She barely recognised the dozing man who lay in it.
He was almost lost amongst the heap of snowy white blankets and pillows, his skin almost as pale as the fabric.
A ghost of his former self. He was thin, far thinner than she’d ever seen him, his cheekbones as sharp as scythes.
The changes to Elaine’s appearance were natural, but Dad had aged millennia in ten short years.
A sideboard that used to hold Elaine’s expensive dinner set was now occupied with a host of medical paraphernalia: creams, boxes of medication, a stack of pulp bowls, folded blankets, swabs, and pads.
Padded chairs were clustered on either side of the bed.
Penny forced herself to walk forward, ignoring her body’s reluctance to go anywhere near the cellar.
She took a seat on the left side—away from the cellar door—and Rhys took the one next to her.
Dad’s eyes opened, but his gaze travelled over them as if they weren’t there.
As if he wasn’t there.
A heaviness settled over her chest as she looked at the man who had once been her father. She’d come here today for…what? An apology. An explanation. An acknowledgement of his wrongdoings, of the pain he’d caused her.
One look at him told her she wouldn’t be getting any of that.
Was that why she felt an uninvited burning in her eyes? She was grieving because she realised she wouldn’t be getting any of the answers she sought? Because some part of her still cared for the man dying in front of her? Or perhaps she was grieving for the father she wanted?
“Dad?” Penny whispered, touching his hand.
Slowly, those hazy eyes found hers. For the first time, he saw her, his lips curving into a fond smile. “Jin.”
Penny’s body went cold at the mention of Mum’s name. Jin-hee.
“Missed you,” he mumbled, his fingers curling around hers.
He thought she was her mother.
The few memories Penny had of her—of the three of them as a family—threatened the dam holding back her tears. Before Dad had started drinking, back when he was a person and not just an addiction. Her bottom lip trembled. “Did you love me?”
He gave her a dazed smile. “Course.”
“Did you love Penny?”
“My girls,” he slurred, his eyes closed.
Penny couldn’t hold back her tears then.
They fell from her as easily as raindrops falling from the sky, peppering the fabric of her skirt as Rhys pulled her against him.
Dad had loved her once. That fact had her shoulders shaking with sobs.
She saw hints of what her childhood may have looked like if Mum hadn’t died, if Dad had never met Elaine, if he had never become an addict.
Happiness. It looked like happiness.
It didn’t absolve him of everything that came after.
The petty crimes, the addiction, the prison sentences, leaving Penny to the mercy of Elaine and Joseph.
She didn’t forgive him—for any of it. God knew he didn’t deserve forgiveness, but the man who’d failed her so completely was gone.
It would do no good to unleash her fury onto the dying man in front of her.
When she was sure he was asleep, Penny slid her hand from Dad’s and got to her feet. Her attention landed on the cellar door for a brief moment before she slipped away. With Rhys close behind, she passed a teary Elaine on the way out.
Their eyes met for a brief second. Penny expected to see the shrew from her worst memories, the woman who’d allowed Joseph to terrorise her. In Penny’s angriest moments, she’d always wanted to confront Elaine, as she’d wanted to confront her father.
Once again, she discovered her appetite for it had spoiled.
The only thing she saw when she looked in Elaine’s eyes was the bottomless grief of a woman losing her husband of twenty years.
Penny looked away, feeling the comforting warmth of Rhys’s hand around hers. With her head held high, she left her childhood home for the final time.
Silence fell between them as they walked back to the car, broken only by the crunch of the gravel driveway.
The noise disappeared as they turned onto the road.
It was lined, as it always had been, with parked cars—something that had been an almighty headache for her back when she bought her first car and needed somewhere to park it; the gravel driveway only had space for Dad and Elaine’s cars, relegating her to the road.
She had to admit, she was a tad jealous when Rhys parallel parked on this godforsaken road with infuriating ease. It was perhaps the most masculine thing she’d seen him do, including the fight at the shepherd’s hut.
“Nice of you to finally show your face.”
The bottom dropped out of her stomach at that voice. Penny blinked away her thoughts as she realised the monster from her memories was a few short feet away, walking down the pavement. “Joseph.” She swallowed, feeling sudden tension shooting through Rhys. “You’re supposed to be in prison.”
Joseph’s beady-eyed glare felt like insects crawling over her skin.
“Been keeping tabs on me, have we?” He was shorter than she’d remembered, only a few inches taller than her.
Like Elaine, the years had taken their toll on him.
His mop of blond hair had receded into almost nothing, his scalp shorn smooth.
“I’m out on compassionate day release. Someone has to look after your dad whilst he’s dying. ”
The barbed jab slid right off her with a shrug. “He was more of a father to you than me.”
Joseph’s nostrils flared, looking past her towards the house. “I hope you were kind to my mother.”
A laugh burst from her before she could rein it in. “Why? Are you worried I was as much of a bastard to her as she’s always been to me?”
Joseph moved towards her, his gaze bright with anger—
Rhys stepped in front of her. “I wouldn’t,” he warned.
“Yes,” Penny hissed. “I was kind to your mother. Unlike the two of you, I have a shred of decency.” She lowered her voice, squeezing Rhys’s hand. “Let’s go.”
Rhys didn’t move immediately, glaring at her stepbrother with so much venom it was almost tangible, but after a protracted silence, pulled her towards the car.
She didn’t look back as she opened the door, but Joseph’s snort of laughter had her turning.
“That’s your car?” Joseph’s arms were crossed as he watched them with a cruel smirk. “Good to see you’ve landed in the gutter where you belong, bitch.”
Rhys slammed the door he’d just opened shut, turning on his heel and storming towards Joseph. Joseph’s smirk grew with lazy confidence. Her stepbrother turned slightly, shifting his weight onto his rear foot.
The moment Rhys was within range, Joseph drove his fist forward in a single powerful swing. Penny’s heart was in her throat, but Rhys dodged it with unexpected swiftness, grabbing Joseph’s arm and holding him still as he drove his knee between his legs so forcefully she winced.
Joseph stumbled backwards against a neighbour’s hedge, grasping at the branches to hold himself up.
Rhys said nothing as they got into the car, locking the doors and casually reaching his arm over the passenger’s headrest to look behind them.
It was the same move from earlier—when she thought he couldn’t get any more masculine than he already was. And somehow he’d managed it.
This time, she didn’t bother to hide the fact that she was watching him. Her eyes were soft, a dark pool of devotion and thankfulness and desire.
Rhys caught her gaze. In one rapid move, he crossed the distance between them to capture her lips in a feverish kiss.
She gasped into his mouth as he tipped up her jaw with a soft touch, so at odds with the violence she’d just witnessed.
His stubble rasped against her, but his lips were as soft as silk, coaxing a sigh from her chest.
He sent her a rakish wink as he pulled away, flicking on the indicator before pulling out of their tight parking space.
As he turned onto the main road, Penny reached across to take his hand, feeling as light as air. She cradled his palm with both of hers, resting it on her lap. A smile kept trying to spread across her face, but she held it at bay, just as she ignored the fluttering in her stomach.
It was nonsensical. She’d just said goodbye to her father—and come face-to-face with Elaine and Joseph. She should feel drained. Sorrowful. She certainly shouldn’t be feeling like…this.
Like something she’d waited all her life for had just slotted into place.