Chapter 37
THIRTY-SEVEN
PRESENT DAY
Ian
Sam’s words wash over me. Please don’t go to the police.
Dad’s death wasn’t an accident. This man killed him. I take a gasping breath as my gaze turns to Josie.
This man killed him with good reason.
More than anything, I want to go to her, to pull her into my arms. To protect her from anything bad that could ever happen to her again. But it turns out that the only thing she really needed to be protected from was my father. And I wasn’t there. I had no idea.
My gaze shifts to Sam and my knees nearly buckle. His sister died because of Dad. I can barely breathe from the weight of that reality sitting on my chest. If Sam didn’t kill him, how many more women would he have assaulted? How many more would he have driven to the brink?
I step toward Josie, but I can’t bear to touch her.
Why would she ever want me to touch her again?
The son of a rapist. The son of the man who assaulted her.
“Josie, I’m so sorry. There aren’t enough words to tell you how sorry I am.
When I think about what my dad did to you—” I turn Sam.
“And to your sister. I want to murder him myself.”
And then a thought hits me like a train.
I’m partly to blame for this.
I kept my dad’s secrets for so long. What if I’d confronted him years before I finally did? What if I’d told my mom about the affairs?
Rationally, I know it’s not my fault. I was a kid, and although I knew about the affairs, I didn’t know he was a sexual predator.
But maybe if I’d spoken up, maybe if I’d let my mom and the people on this island know who he truly was, maybe they wouldn’t have held him in such high esteem.
Maybe it wouldn’t have enabled him to single out young girls and get them alone.
If I’d spoken up and let people know who he was, maybe he wouldn’t have had so many opportunities to hurt girls like Josie and Sam’s sister.
And with that thought, a memory comes back to me of a young woman and my dad by the pool.
I recognized her from the country club. I was maybe fifteen at the time, and she didn’t seem that much older than me.
I was supposed to sleep over at Leo’s house, but he got caught smoking weed and his parents grounded him, so I went home.
Dad liked to invite women over, but they were always clients of Langley Capital.
But that night, I recognized the woman as a server at the club.
She was younger than a lot of other women I’d seen him with.
He poured her a drink. She was giggling, and I thought they were having fun.
I went to my room and blasted the loudest rock music I could stand so I wouldn’t have to listen to them together.
Now I hear that giggle in a completely different light.
Was she nervous? Was he getting her drunk so he could take advantage of her?
Was I home while Dad was assaulting young women?
I should have known a girl that young would be vulnerable.
Even if she wasn’t technically underage, it was wrong for a man like Dad to be with her. I should have seen it.
But I didn’t want to think about it. And even worse, it got to the point that when Mom was out of town, I’d leave the house so I wouldn’t have to witness his affairs.
I scan my memories, trying to piece together those days.
How many others were there like Jeanine and Josie?
By protecting myself and my mom, I was providing Dad with the opportunity to do whatever he wanted.
I grab the railing to keep myself upright and take deep, heaving breaths so I won’t be sick. “Of course I won’t go to the police,” I tell Sam. “If you hadn’t—” I can barely choke out the words. “If you hadn’t done what you did, who knows how many other women he would have hurt.”
“Thank you,” Sam whispers, relief softening his features.
And then I turn to Josie. “I don’t know how you can even look at me. The son of that monster. No wonder you took off all those years ago.” A thought hits me like a bullet to the heart. “Oh God, I asked you to come to his funeral.” It just gets worse and worse.
“Ian…” She reaches out a hand, and I don’t know how she could even want to touch me. “You didn’t know…” she says. “You’re not to blame.”
But maybe I am, at least partly.
“No.” I back away from her touch. “You shouldn’t be consoling me.
You shouldn’t even have to be near me.” I resemble Dad.
I have his eyes, his cheekbones, his hair.
Does Josie see him every time she looks at me?
Does she relive the trauma? It all makes so much sense now.
Why she avoided me, why she didn’t want to stay with me when she came back to the island.
I thought it was because she didn’t want to stay with a guy she hadn’t seen in a decade.
But really, it was because she didn’t want to stay with the son of a monster.
The only thing I can possibly think to make this even a little bit right is to leave her alone so she never has to look at me again. “I’m sorry, Josie,” I whisper. And then I turn and head for the stairs down to the beach, the fastest way I can get out of her sight.