Chapter Twenty-two – Cover Girl #2
“Unfortunately for Dawson and me, we disappointed him all the time. Dawson was seventeen when I was born, so we didn’t really have a relationship.
And my mom made sure she put up walls between him and me because she hated everyone in town knew Dawson was Dad’s kid by someone else.
I have vague memories, that are more feelings than actual memories, of the tension in the house when he was around.
I remember retreating into myself to keep out of the storm.
“When I was five, Dawson was involved in a boating accident where one of the kids lost an arm. I remember Dad going nuts. Again, it was more of that feeling of terror than the actual words. Dawson left town. He had a brother on his mom’s side who was in the Coast Guard, and he went to live with him.
Honestly, I would have probably forgotten all about my brother after he left if my dad hadn’t kept reminding me that I was as much of a disappointment as Dawson had been.
Dad hammered into me that the only chance I had to be something better was if I did whatever my parents told me.
Wore what they told me to wear. Went where they told me to go. Smiled when they told me to smile.
“So, I did. And yet, it still wasn’t enough. My hair was a disaster. My clothes weren’t right. My grades weren’t good enough. Something was always wrong. I was always wrong.”
The pain of a shattered childhood all but bled from her, and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I reached out and took her hand, twining our fingers and squeezing.
“When I graduated from high school, Dawson and his wife showed up at the ceremony. It was the first time I’d seen him in thirteen years, and he was so different from what I remembered—or at least different from all the things my dad had said about him.
Confidence oozed out of him. I found out he’d been with the FBI but had resigned to go into business with a friend.
They build luxury speedboats. It’s a billion-dollar business.
I was shocked. I’d been told repeatedly that my brother was a failure when, in truth, he was the epitome of resilience and strength.
“My dad was furious that he’d shown up. I think he hated that Dawson had flourished.
Hated that, in many ways, my brother was more powerful than Dad.
Dawson had money and connections my father could only hope to scrounge up.
They had a huge row, and Dad told Dawson to leave and never come back.
But before he left, Dawson pulled me aside, gave me his card, and told me if I ever needed anything—anything—I could call, and he’d come and get me.
“It probably sounds stupid to you, but it was the first time I started questioning my parents. I was eighteen years old and finally started to see that they were wrong. Not just about Dawson, but about me. I wasn’t a screw-up or a disappointment… They were the ones who were messed up.”
Andie finished the rest of her drink and poured herself another.
I hadn’t touched mine. I needed a clear head for this.
Except, my head wasn’t clear. It was already foggy with anger.
I’d seen enough parents like Andie’s in my job in LA.
Rich parents who only acknowledged their kids when it added to their follower count to do so.
Eden had been the same fucking way. Luca had to practically scream to be noticed.
And when he did, she just bought him off with another present, hoping bribery would be enough to shut him up.
“Some people aren’t meant to have kids,” I said firmly.
Her eyes widened at the sound of my voice, as if she’d almost forgotten I was there.
“You’re right,” she said. “Belinda and Dick definitely shouldn’t have had kids.”
A huff of a laugh escaped me. “Your dad’s name is Dick?”
Her lips quirked again, and the tightness in my chest eased a bit. Maybe we’d both survive her confession after all.
“Yeah. Believe me, Dawson and I have had many a good laugh about it.”
She withdrew her hand from mine, and I felt the loss brutally. I wanted to draw it back, to pull her to me, but I could also sense she needed to do this on her own. Needed to purge her soul after years of not speaking a word of what haunted her.
“The only way Dad agreed to pay for college was if I continued to live with them and played by their rules. So, I stayed, trying to pretend I was the same person I’d been before Dawson had ripped the blinders from me.
I lived in his house and commuted to school.
But I also couldn’t help rebelling in small ways.
I wouldn’t show up for one of their parties.
Or I’d show up with a friend they didn’t approve of.
We’d steal champagne and drink it from the bottle by the pool, making sure Dad’s friends saw his underage daughter with alcohol.
“One of my friends that Dad disapproved of hooked me up with a fake ID, and I started gambling at the tribal casinos around the lake. Most of the bouncers and pit bosses knew who I was, that I wasn’t supposed to be there, but no one stopped me.
Maybe they were afraid of making waves with my dad.
Maybe they just didn’t care because I was spending money.
All I cared about was that I’d found not only an escape but something I was really good at. The cards loved me.
“Right as I turned twenty-one, someone finally tipped Dad off to how I was spending my nights, and he went through the roof. He cut me off financially and stopped paying for school. I’d saved up enough money from my gambling that I could afford to move out, but I didn’t have enough to pay for my next semester, so I concentrated on earning it.
“My success at the tables drew the attention of one of the pit bosses, Jacy. He told me I could make more consistent money if I became a dealer. He put in a good word for me, and I turned my flair with cards into a job.
“And that was where I met Eddie Lark.”
She inhaled after saying his name, as if it physically hurt. She rubbed her chin, and I finally had both a first and last name to go with the bastard who’d hurt her. Whoever Eddie Lark was, he was going to wish he was dead.