Chapter 35
MAYA
Seeing Paul Knight has been a huge shock to my system.
Fleur is worried about me. Katherine still sends me emails, even though I’m off sick from work.
I’m not physically sick, just mentally drained. I’ve been in a state of inertia. So much so that by the middle of the week, I still can’t face the thought of returning to work.
This isn’t like me. I love what I do, and it’s been easier since I started working on Zach’s mini-project … and yet, I can’t face him. Seeing him will bring up all the emotions I don’t want to face.
I’ve been thinking a lot about my mom and I feel bad that I haven’t gone to see her.
I used to call her regularly, but ever since Zach and I got together, that has slipped.
But now, ever since the night of the party, I’ve been calling her every day because I’ve needed to hear her voice.
It grounds me. Talking to my mom makes me know that she’s okay, despite what she went through at the hands of that man.
If she’s okay, I will be, too.
I decide to give myself one more day at home, and tomorrow, I’ll go into work. I spend the morning flicking through magazines, reading, and watching TV.
It’s midday, and I’ve just had lunch, and am ready to get back to my psychological thriller when Zach sends me a text.
Zach: I’m in Boston, would you believe.
Boston? I wonder what he’s doing there. He’s been checking in on me daily, and throughout the day.
I don’t always reply. Lately, I’ve started to have doubts about us.
It would hurt him to know that. So I haven’t always replied to him, even if I always read his messages.
Maybe him seeing that I’ve read them gives him some sort of reassurance that I’m okay.
I decide to reply.
Maya: What are you doing in Boston?
Zach: My dad sent me here on business
That sounds vague, but I’m not particularly interested in the details.
He’s obviously doing whatever his father asks.
I wonder if Paul Knight ever asks anything of the other sons, or if he just asks Zach each time?
Watching the dynamics on the night of the party, I noticed the distance between him and his other sons. They barely spoke to him.
My mom and I are so close, that I can’t relate to the dysfunctional family Zach comes from. But then I wonder, is it so odd, given what I know about the man? If anything surely Zach’s behavior is even odder?
While he doesn’t know about what happened with my mom, he knows his father cheated on his mother, and had a secret family in another country, on another continent. Wouldn’t that make him think that his father was deceptive? As well as being a liar and a cheat?
What kind of son would look up to a man like that?
Zach’s relationship with his father, as messy and as complicated as it is, is the only thread he’s still holding onto. He wants to believe in a man who isn’t worthy of that faith. And I need to let him.
I’m about to curl up on the sofa with a good book when I hear a knock on the door. Zach? Hope flares inside me. Maybe Boston was a ruse. He’s not there, he’s here, at my door, surprising me.
I rush to the door, pausing for a few seconds to still the giddying butterflies in my stomach. Being apart has given me time to think, and I’m excited to see him again. I open the door, reining in the smile on my lips when—it’s not Zach I see.
It’s his father.
My body freezes. My mind shuts down, and paralysis freezes me into inaction. I barely breathe. “Wh-what are you d-doing here?”
“I want to talk. Nothing more.”
My legs start to shake and I stumble back a few steps. To my complete shock, he walks in.
Into my apartment
My vision narrows and the room feels even smaller, the air too thin. I consider running, pushing past him and escaping, but my legs are too weak. “Y-you can’t come in.”
I hate myself for stepping back. I hate that my voice sounds too small. I hate that I feel so powerless.
“Too late, but don’t worry. This needn’t take long.” His voice is clipped, and he’s the same monster as ever. Perfectly groomed, controlled and powerful, with a hidden evil agenda. And he’s staring at me like he can do anything he wants.
Like I’m at his mercy.
I shiver.
This is how my mom must have felt. Only it was worse for her because he laid his hand on her.
The bastard.
“You shouldn’t be here.” I try to sound loud and brave, but I’m failing miserably. What’s happening to me? I’m stronger than this. Better than this.
A faint smile curves his mouth. “I could say the same about you.”
“I live here.”
I catch a whiff of overpowering cologne, and I’m fifteen again, heart pounding, skin crawling, and trapped. “I’ll call the police.” I walk backwards, not taking my eyes off him, glancing over my shoulder to see where my cell phone is.
“I didn’t come to argue with you. I came to resolve a sticky situation.”
“There’s nothing you can say that I want to listen to.”
“Don’t be foolish.”
I pick up my phone, about to make a call, but who would I call? Zach’s not here. He’s in Boston after all.
My finger hovers over the keypad. Who do I call? Who can help me?
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Paul threatens. For the first time ever, I detect a hint of panic. It’s enough to fuel something inside me. I don’t call. I press record on my voice recorder app.
“What are you here for?” I ask again, feeling confident, emboldened, even, by my actions.
“Zach is special, to both of us.” He shoves his hands in his trouser pockets, casual and laid back, everything I’m not.
I stay silent, because I don’t know where he’s going with this.
“You seeing him after all these years, complicates things.”
His words embolden me more. “For whom?” I dare to smile, because I now understand what this fucker is talking about. He silenced my mom by making sure she couldn’t work in New York, and now he’s here, thinking he can silence me.
“You don’t want to ruin his life over something that happened years ago.”
“Who says it was only years ago?”
His Adam’s apple bobs. “You understand how damaging this could be. For everyone involved.”
That’s it. That’s his subtle threat, wrapped up in a smile and politely spoken words.
“Damaging? How. I don’t understand.”
His eyes narrow dangerously. “Quite the feisty little thing, aren’t you? I can see why Zach finds you entertaining.”
“Oh, I’m more than entertainment for your son, believe me.”
His lips twitch at that. He doesn’t like what I’ve just said.
“Such a diva, with your tendency to dramatize,” he says. “Just like your mother.”
His words snap something tight inside my chest—fear, restraint, all of it pulling at once.
“Get out,” I hiss, gritting my teeth together.
He steps closer instead.
My pulse skids and every instinct tells me to back away, to put distance between us, but I force my feet to stay planted. My hand curls into a fist by my side, nails cutting into my palm. I lift my chin, even though my throat feels too tight to swallow.
I won’t show weakness. I won’t.
His gaze sharpens. “I can make this easy for you. You walk away, quietly, and I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of. How does fifty thousand dollars sound?”
I laugh once, sharp and twisted. I can’t believe my ears. Can’t believe that he thinks he can do this again. Can’t believe the audacity and arrogance.
“It sounds like a dirty little bribe. You can’t buy me off. I don’t care who you think you are.”
A muscle along his jawline jumps. “Don’t dismiss it. Think about it.”
“You’re a despicable man. You’re a liar and a cheat, and the saddest thing, apart from your wife dying by suicide, is how Zach can’t see how ugly your heart is.
” My heart pounds so fiercely in my chest, it makes me dizzy.
I can’t believe I’ve said those words to him, neither can he, judging by the withering look he gives me.
“Don’t you dare talk about my—”
“Your wife? The one you cheated on? You had a mistress. You fathered another family. At least, those are the ones we know about.” I don’t know where my strength has come from.
On some level, a level I don’t care to examine right now, it feels wrong to bring up Zach’s mother, and the mistress and innocent children, but this vile serpent of a man isn’t holding back, and I don’t intend to, either. “Are there more? Do you even know?”
“Shut your filthy little mouth.”
“Does the truth hurt?”
His lips twist and he steps towards me, like he’s going to lunge for me. This man is the devil dressed in a designer suit, and right now he could do anything to me. I suddenly feel scared and quickly look around for something, a weapon, a shield, anything.
His nostrils flare, hands fisted deeper in his pockets like he’s trying to control himself. “Blood always wins. You’re playing a pathetic little game.”
“By being with Zach?”
“It’s just sex. All men need it.”
I feel sick.
I don’t move. He’s the lowest of the low. How is Zach even related to him? Somehow I manage to say the words I think might hurt him. “Zach loves me. And I love him, and if he knew the truth about you, he would hate you forever.”
He snorts. “Love? This is just teenage drama and angst that you’re mistaking for love. You don’t even know what the word means.”
“I know exactly what it means. You, however, have no fucking idea.”
“Careful.”
I’ve hit another sore nerve. No one has challenged this man before, or rarely, and so every truth I throw at him lands like the verbal grenade I intended it to be.
“You love money, but when you die, you can’t take it with you. You will realize what a wasted life you’ve lived. Not even your sons want to breathe the same air as you.”
I channel every scrap of pent-up hatred I’ve carried for this man over the years. My mother’s face appears in my mind’s eye and it’s the only reason I find the courage to say what I’m saying.
“You whiny little whore.”