Chapter 8
REGAN
Ithought I was past the walk-of-shame phase of my life, but apparently everything comes full circle after a vicious breakup.
Nobody’s downstairs when I creep in the back door.
My mother’s probably in the basement riding her exercise bike and I bet my dad already left for the office.
God, look at me, sneaking into my family’s multi-million-dollar townhome like a stranger.
I’m still in my clothes from the night before and my hair smells like a mixture of wine, whisky, and sex.
It’s a good smell, if I’m being honest, but I don’t want to run into my parents right now.
Not when they already look at me like I’m a failure.
How’d it end up like this? A few weeks ago, I had my whole life perfected.
A group of decent friends, most of whom ghosted after Kieren banged his whore and disappeared, a stable job at my father’s company, a man I thought was my forever.
We were going to have kids, meet other parents, fight to get them into the best daycares and private schools, and now—
I’m tip-toeing back to my childhood bedroom hoping my parents don’t realize I was out all night banging a total stranger.
Again.
Luckily, nobody intercepts me. I change, rinse off, brush teeth, throw on my work clothes, and check my phone. Running behind, but not too bad. I’m doing my makeup haphazardly when there’s a soft knock on the bathroom door.
“Regan? You in there? You decent?”
My father’s voice. I pause, surprised. He rarely comes to this part of the house, much less ever acknowledges me. I open up and squint at him. “Hey, Dad, what are you doing still home?”
He looks past my shoulder at the vanity and seems to consider me like I’m a radioactive ant. “I went to speak with you last night, but you weren’t home.”
Oh shit. A thousand worries burst through my brain. “I was out with friends,” I blurt before I can stop to consider if that’s the best lie.
Too late now.
Dad doesn’t seem to care though. He grunts, checking his watch, distracted, and slips his phone from his pocket. “I wanted to talk to you about this in private, but you’ll have to come to my office instead. Before lunch. Ten sharp.”
“What’s going on?”
“It’s important. Don’t be late.” He turns and walks off.
My typical father. Appear out of thin air, drop a bomb, and storm off without bothering to explain anything. Maybe there’s a reason I was attracted to Kieren to begin with.
Gross. Definitely not examining that.
I consider calling Dad back but I know from long experience that it won’t work.
He said what he said, and now it’s on me to obey.
I bristle, but in the end, I’ll do as he asked, because it’s better for everyone if my father gets his way.
I’ll continue meekly through the day, dipping my chin along, smiling sweetly, doing everything right, and maybe if I’m so perfect it’s excruciating he’ll deign to give me some small gesture of approval, a teeny-tiny crumb, like a drop of water in a desert.
Most likely he won’t though.
That’s the sick part: I’m pathetic and desperate for approval I know I’ll never get.
No wonder I’m unhinged enough to light Kieren’s car on fire.
I return to getting ready for work, rattled and obsessing about what fresh hell my father’s about to unleash on me.
Fortunately, I make it to work on time. I hit my desk by eight-thirty, brew coffee in the break room, and proceed to kill the morning on busywork. It’s close to nine-thirty when a surprise pops up at the edge of my cube.
“Whatever you did, Dad was not happy about it last night.” Luke’s voice is low and boyish, amused and accusing at the same time.
He comes around and props himself against the wall, his dress shirt askew, his tight khakis a touch wrinkled, but Luke still manages to look both good and professional.
I have no clue how he pulls that off. I can iron my slacks for an hour at the crack of dawn and still look like a mess, while my little brother basically rolls out of bed, spits in his hand to comb his hair, pulls on whatever he’s got on the floor nearby, and still looks fantastic.
He never took to the office the way Dad would’ve wanted, but everyone likes him and that’s a skill in itself.
Besides, he’s only twenty-four. Plenty of time to get it together.
Lord knows I can’t judge.
“How’d you know that?”
“He called asking where you were.”
That gets my attention. A sliver of fear spikes into my stomach. Since when did my father bother calling anyone about me?
“He’s got some mysterious conversation planned.” I click my pen rapidly. “Got any clue what it’s about?”
“None whatsoever. He sounded unhappy when I told him I didn’t keep tabs on your whereabouts.” His eyes narrow and he wags a finger. “Don’t tell me you were getting into trouble.”
I laugh awkwardly. “You know me. I don’t even know how to spell trouble.”
“Yeah, well maybe you should learn. After Kieren—“
“I don’t want to talk about him right now.”
“I get it, but Regan, fuck that guy. I never liked him.”
“That’s not true.”
He flicks a finger against his top button. “Okay, it’s not, but still. Fuck him sideways with a rusty knife. I can have him killed, you know. Just say the word.”
There’s a real edge to Luke and I don’t like it. “Cheating isn’t punishable by death the last time I checked.”
“Not yet.”
“I appreciate the gesture but it’s fine. I wish I knew what Dad wanted to talk to me about.” I check the clock. Time’s moving agonizingly slow.
“Good luck with that.” Luke peeks at his phone. “Ah, shit, speaking of which, I’m late for a call.”
“I swear, you’re perpetually missing something.”
“It’s part of my charm. Later, kid.” He raps a knuckle on my wall and walks off.
I watch my brother go. The way he talked about killing Kieren nags at me. Sometimes it feels like he’s spiraling in a direction I don’t like and can’t ever follow. I chew my thumbnail, trying not to take what he said too literally, but I also know the company he’s been keeping lately.
Men associated with the dark side of my father’s business.
I swivel away. Luke’s twenty-four, old enough to handle himself. I want to protect him from the trouble I’m sure he’s courting, but I can only do so much. I had hoped that Kieren might be able to talk some sense into him, but now…
I’ll worry about my wayward younger brother another time.
Right now, I have my own problems. When it’s time, I psych myself up in the bathroom before marching down to Dad’s office like I’m about to attend my own hanging.
His secretary waves me past, a genial older woman named Kim, and I find him seated at his desk with an annoyed glare as he taps away at his keyboard, a pair of cheaters perched on his nose.
He looks old. Not ancient and still in great shape, but old.
His hair’s white and there’s a wrinkled, sagging cast to his skin.
I pause before sitting, surprised at how hard it’s hitting me all of a sudden.
Since when was my father anything but the picture of vitality?
He’s always been so big in my head and it really bothers me that he seems shrunken somehow, but then he turns his perpetual scowl on me and I’m cowed into submission.
“What did you want to talk about, Dad?”
He takes off the glasses and rubs his nose. “I don’t have long. This won’t be easy so I need you to listen, understand what I’m telling you, and do as I’m asking. Can you do that for me, Regan?”
I feel sick. My feet are numb. That is almost exactly what he said to me years earlier when I was applying for colleges and didn’t know what I wanted to major in.
It’ll be accounting, Regan. The family firm needs someone it can trust, and that’s going to be you.
Lord, I hope you have the mind for it, girl.
No complaints. Fill out the paperwork tonight.
And that’s how I became a CPA.
“What’s going on?”
“Close the door.” He waits for me to shut it and sit back down. “There have been discussions recently. I had a plan for you, a plan that I felt would be beneficial for everyone involved.” His hand curls into a tight fist. “But then you went and fucked it all up, and now Kieren’s gone.”
I gape at him, distraught. I want to scream in his face.
It’s not my fault Kieren fucked someone else!
He banged her in our own damn bed! Don’t you get it?
! But that won’t make a difference. I bite my tongue hard to keep the lump in my throat from morphing into actual tears.
Crying gets me smacked. Tears are only more pain.
“It wasn’t what I wanted,” I say in a small, meek voice.
Dad only hardens. “Regardless, with Kieren out of the picture, you need a new path. I’ve always said that about you, Regan, without a firm hand and solid guidance, you drift.
I will not have my daughter wandering around, out of control, and directionless.
” He pitches forward. “This will be a sacrifice, but it will be good in the long run.”
“Sacrifice?” I clear my throat and struggle not to fidget. Another annoying habit Dad hates. Fidgeting is for children and the homeless. Which are you? Neither? Then stop it. “I don’t understand.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” He keeps watching me for a long, horrible moment, before he sits back and folds his hands together.
“In two weeks, you are going to marry a man named Liam Lankshear. It’s been discussed and agreed already among the family.
He’s an important member of the Whelan clan, and this arrangement will benefit everyone.
It will bring us closer to the Whelan organization, and it will give you a purpose.
I understand this is sudden and it is difficult to accept, but you will obey me in this, Regan.
You will not embarrass me, not when it comes to business. Do you hear me?”
My jaw feels like concrete. I try to open it, try to close it, but I can only gape, my tongue wagging in the air, searching for words that won’t flit into my head.