Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CLOVER
“Me?” I squeak like someone just stepped on a cat toy. “I don’t—” I shake my head so quickly my hair sticks to my lashes. “How would I know anything?”
“Your books,” Grant says cautiously. “The Vow series in particular. You wrote about vigilante justice. Your hero was…specific.”
“That was—I made that up. It’s fiction, Grant. None of it’s real. I would know, I wrote it. I sat for hours crafting that world. It’s not…I mean…”
“What are you saying?” Valen’s voice is deceptively calm, but I feel the abject rage permeating his every cell.
“Mom’s theory…” Chase steps forward, his jovial manner nowhere to be seen. “Was that you had knowledge of the inner dealings of your father’s work, at least on some level, and that you gained knowledge of how Terra corrupted it. She thought that’s the only way you could have such specific details.”
“How do you know this?” There’s a violence in Valen’s words now. “How long have you known, and why the fuck didn’t you say anything to me?”
“When mom got sick—” Chase’s voice cracks, and he shakes his head. “Her meds—they made her slip between past and present.”
“She asked him to read Clover’s books to her,” Sterling mutters.
“Details that he never shared until recently,” Grant barks.
“Oh, fuck off, Grant,” Chase fires back. “And were you so forthcoming with the information you unearthed? We all made mistakes.”
“I—I don’t understand.” But there’s something growing on a molecular level inside me. Something that’s bottling up the rage and the fear and the guilt I’ve carried my whole life and turning it into a force that can no longer be contained—an inner strength I’ve never known.
Roman steps closer, his expression blank as he silently orders everyone to get their shit together with a single narrowed gaze that hits each person before turning to me.
“Clover, we think that Roots of Salvation did begin as a sanctuary for rescued women and children. Those types of organizations operate in secret, even today.”
“But Terra got too greedy and wanted more power than the O’Connells would allow,” Grant says, studying me carefully. “When our mother was dying, she made references that coincide with your stories. But her details were specific.”
“You—you think I’m Calla O’Connell, the child of what? Some secret society members?” My voice is once again distant as images I thought I’d imagined while writing The Deadly Vow replay now, in terrifying color.
Except this time, the abducted child isn’t a little boy with black hair and blue eyes—the child is…me.
“Yes,” Grant drags out the single word. “We think your birth name is Calla O’Connell, and your father’s family has been saving people the world forgot about for generations.”
Just like in my books.
I pinch my arm. Hard. Hard enough to leave a bruise. Hard enough to ground me to this fucked-up reality.
“This can’t be happening.” Did I say those words out loud?
“She tried to kill me.” My words are louder now, anger pushing up through my chest with volcanic force and shoving the fear into a corner of my mind I try not to visit.
“Why do that after she went to such lengths to keep me for so many years?”
“Personally,” Roman says, “I think she has a deeply troubled one-sided connection to you, but she still needs you—your connections—the O’Connell name and money—and she panicked.
We’ve pulled communications from her location.
Most of the supporters who have helped her get to this point are running scared.
” I glare in his direction, and he nods, only once.
“We know who they are now, and we have men closing in on them.”
“Or with you and Valen gone, who would be left to contradict Terra’s story?
” Grant is back in bossy big brother mode, but it isn’t helping this time.
“You’re the last known living O’Connell heir, Clover.
With you and Valen gone, she could claim that our mother held her hostage for fourteen years—paint herself as the victim while using the O’Connell and Harrington names and wealth as leverage to gain everything she’s ever wanted. ”
“Because she’s technically my next of kin…” Valen bites out.
“It’s just about money and power for her,” I whisper.
“We believe our mother was covering up a lot of shit in the name of keeping you both safe,” Chase says, and I can see how much that pains him. These men thought their mother was a saint, someone who could do no wrong, and each lie they uncover leads them to a woman they never fully knew.
“Meaning,” Sterling says carefully, “our mother kept this information almost entirely to herself.”
“Terra believes she was owed this life,” I say slowly, the pieces clicking into place with sickening clarity. “If she can’t get it with me by her side, she’ll get rid of me to claim it.”
I tap my thigh, focusing on the rhythm while my mind sifts through the noise. “Brooks chose my mother over Terra. Vivi took Edward, then Valen. Every person Terra ever wanted chose someone else. In her mind, she’s not the villain—she’s the victim finally claiming what was stolen from her.”
I look at Valen, my stomach churning. “That’s why she’ll never stop. This isn’t only about greed. It’s not even about me or who she thinks I represent. It’s about revenge dressed up as destiny.”
The room spins.
“I can’t—” I stand, needing to move, to breathe.
“This is— I write thrillers.” Do I though?
Or am I simply regurgitating the horrors of a life I forced myself to fictionalize?
“I know how these stories go. The innocent person always gets caught in the crossfire. The shadowy organization eliminates loose ends.” I cast a pleading glance at Grant.
He must know this, right? “Are we loose ends?”
“No.” There’s not a millisecond of hesitation in Grant’s response.
“Whatever Aunt Vivi was doing,” Valen says, standing too, “it was to keep us safe. I know that in my heart.”
“While lying to you about your not-dead mother,” I point out, my voice rising as anger creeps in. “While keeping me away from you. How do we know she isn’t lying about this too?”
My anger curls like fire—the deadly kind. Except now I know what it is, this manic, angry force growing with each breath. It’s not hysteria, it’s power. It’s dedication. It’s fierce and just and ready to take control of my life for me—however it may happen.
I may have been a pawn for most of my life, but now I’m the queen who will control her story.
“Clover—”
I cut Valen off. “Your aunt allowed you to visit a mother she knew was dangerous.” The words explode out of me. “She had you writing in a fucking journal, spying, collecting evidence. That’s not protection, that’s—that’s—”
“Complicated, Clover,” Chief says quietly. He’s been silent this whole time, watching me with a pained expression. “The world ain’t black-and-white, kid. Sometimes good people do questionable things for the right reasons.”
“Or wrong ones dressed up to fit an agenda,” I counter.
“Perhaps,” he concedes. “But it worked. You’re alive. You’re here. And now we gotta figure out how to keep it that way.”
I bite my tongue so I don’t curse at his logic.
“Listen, kid.” Chief places his weathered hands on my shoulders.
“Parenting is the hardest, scariest job in the world. You always make mistakes. But when the stakes are this high?” He shakes his head while meeting my gaze with loyal truth.
“I’m honestly surprised Vivi didn’t make more.
The pressure she must have been under… Just remember, Clover.
Life is always told in three versions. His side, her side, and the truth.
From where I’m standing, it sounds to me like Vivi did the best she could in an unfathomable situation. ”
I sink back onto the bed. The anger swirling through me is still there, but so is exhaustion—a lifetime of it I’m finally ready to release.
If what they’re saying is true, Valen isn’t the only forgotten billionaire in the room, and I don’t know how to process any of that.
“What do we do, then?” I’m not whispering. I’m not shouting either. This, I realize, is my voice—clear and strong and here to stay. “Terra has resources we can’t begin to understand because she’s been scheming for years. How do we fight someone like that?”
The room falls into silence for a long moment, and Valen lowers himself to the bed beside me.
It’s Chase who speaks up. “We stop running.”
All eyes turn to him, and he shrugs.
“Think about it,” he continues. “We’ve been reacting. Running from safe house to safe house to get ahead of her. But she’s been a step ahead of us the entire time because she expects us to protect you—and she expects us to run to do it.”
“What do you want to do?” I ask. “Just sit here and let her have me?”
“No,” Grant says slowly. “You go somewhere she doesn’t expect. Somewhere we’ll have the advantage.”
“You want us to bring her back to Happiness,” Sterling says.
My lungs lurch into my throat. “No. Absolutely not. I won’t put my friends in danger. My town—”
“Is full of people who care about you,” Valen interrupts. The pain in his gaze cuts me to the quick. “People who would do anything to protect you.”
“Savvy’s got Grey and his family,” Chief adds. “Madison’s got that big inn with security and space. Elle’s got half the town’s gossip network at her fingertips. You got resources there, kid. Real resources. The kind Terra can’t buy or threaten away.”
“Community,” Roman says. “That’s what Terra has never had.”
“You think my friends would fight for me?” I know they love me, but when push comes to shove, I’m expendable, aren’t I?
“For fuck’s sake, Honeybee. They already are.” Valen tugs me into his lap, and I don’t object because his strength buoys my own.
“He’s right,” Grant says. “Madison’s been texting me and demanding updates every three hours like clockwork. I don’t even know when that woman sleeps. She’s even threatened various forms of bodily harm if anything happens to you.”