Chapter 80
Trips
Mattie must have come running the second she heard the elevator ding, because she grabs me before I take two steps down the hallway, dragging me to a small sitting area tucked between patient rooms. “Thank God you’re here,” she whispers, even though there’s no one here to hear us.
A lifetime of habits won’t die overnight.
“I don’t know what to do.” Tears glisten in her eyes, and the urge to protect her becomes so damn strong I have to keep my fists clenched instead of giving her the hug she probably needs.
“Tell me what’s happening,” I say, panicking at her panic.
“It’s Father, and Bry, and Mom, and the cops, and it’s all so much.”
Clara comes to my rescue, sitting next to Mattie and taking her hands. “I know it’s hard, but can you start at the beginning?”
She nods, taking a few deep breaths, getting control of herself like all of us Westerhouse kids learned to do practically in the cradle.
“I found this tacked to the door of the condo we’re staying at.
” She pulls out an envelope, and the three of us share a look, knowing exactly what’s inside.
My sister’s hands are surprisingly still as she pulls out a card, ‘With deepest sympathies’ scrawled across the top.
Inside is familiar handwriting. ‘Lost innocence, lost safety, lost little girl. One chance. One call and I’ll come. Otherwise…’
Mattie hands it to me, and I want to fling it into the embers where our home used to be.
“I knew it was from Bry, but I didn’t know what to do.
Mom found me freaking out about it, and she cursed up a storm, but said we should take it to Father, because if anybody can make someone disappear, it’s him.
Only when we got there, there were people digging up the rose garden, and Mom lost it.
She rushed in, angrier than I’ve ever seen her.
Only Father was unconscious on the floor in their bedroom, so we ended up here.
And I don’t know what’s going on anymore.
Mom is so mad, she’s vibrating, Father’s hooked up to all these machines, and Bry is out there, watching me.
How else did he know which unit we were staying in?
” Mattie gets a little quieter with every word, falling back on the silence we survived, her grip on Clara not loosening.
RJ steps closer, his phone in hand, tapping out something, likely digging into one of his back doors into the investigation on the elder Westerhouse. “The people digging, were they cops?”
“I don’t think so. They were wearing green uniforms.”
He looks at me, but I have no better idea of what’s going on than he does.
“We can all agree that it’s not normal to be digging up a garden in the middle of winter. Do you think your father knows the cops are closing in? What could he have hidden there?” RJ asks.
Clara looks at Mattie. “I don’t know if you’ll want to be here for this conversation.”
“I’m not a kid. Not anymore. Tell me. I can take it.”
My heart aches, knowing that whatever childishness my sister had is gone.
“I bet it’s more bodies,” Clara says, treating my sister like the adult she’d always wanted to be seen as.
“More?” she clarifies, pulling her hands from Clara’s grip.
I glance down the hallway, glad we’re alone. “Yeah. More. Father’s got his own graveyard at a cabin out West. A torture shed and everything.”
She reads more on my face than I’d wanted to share. “Did you—”
“Yeah. I’ve been sent out there since I was your age.
But luckily, sometime before me, Father stopped dealing with his own disposal, so I’m clean.
” I don’t add that Clara’s clean, too. Mattie saw my wife kill a man.
There’s a reason she’s keeping her hands in her lap now.
Her brows furrow as she glares at the ground, before she follows the line from RJ’s dress shoes up to his head, blinking a few times as she takes in our formal attire.
“Why are you all dressed up? You stink like smoke,” she says, running from her problems for a moment.
Clara takes this one, her anger vibrant, glinting nearly as much as her crown. “It’s RJ’s birthday. And Bryce burned down our house.”
Mattie grips the card. “Otherwise…”
I will make that man suffer. And I’m going to love every moment. “Don’t worry about the threat, Sparkles. We won’t let anything happen to you.”
RJ looks up from his phone. “It’s definitely not the cops.”
Mattie shakes off her fear, but I can’t tell if she believes me.
She ignores RJ’s information, none of it meaning anything to any of us right now.
“I was hoping I could stay with you guys, but I guess you’re homeless now.
Maybe I can get Mom to pick a nice hotel with good security.
” She stands, tugging on her sleeves. “I always thought Father was invincible, you know? But he doesn’t look good, Archie.
Not at all. I don’t want to be here, but until Mom’s done yelling at him, I guess this is where I’ll be. Walk me back to the room?”
I leave Clara and RJ in the sitting room, Mattie quiet as she leads me down the hall.
The steady beep of a machine grows louder as we approach, and I hate it for what it represents—my father, alive, surrounded by care he’s never been able to give.
It’s sick that he gets taken seriously, while Clara and Mattie are left fencing with shadows that make them bleed.
When we enter, Mattie’s mom is leaning over Father, her face furious and covered in tears.
I barely catch her words before she notices us at the doorway, something that sounds like ‘you promised, you bastard. How dare you,’ hissed between clenched teeth, before she strides to a corner to collect herself, Mattie and I lingering awkwardly half in and half out of the room.
“Archie!” My father’s surprise and joy feel like half-dried blood dripping down the back of my neck. Remembered torture and current pain. “My boy. I’m so glad you came. I have some important information to pass on, if your stepmother is ready to head out.”
The implied command has my stepmom spinning away, dragging Mattie from the room, the angry clack of her heels against the linoleum floor echoing until the elevator dings at the end of the hallway. Which leaves me in the room with my father, the last place I want to be tonight. Or ever.
He looks small, weak. I could break his arm in two, his eyes and skin yellow like he’s turning into the snake he was born to be.
The urge to hurt him, to snap him like a twig, dances over my skin, and I can’t help the sick grin that seeps out at the thought. He thinks it’s for him though, his answering smile relieved.
“I know we haven’t left things on the best terms, but in case a liver doesn’t show up soon, I have information you’ll need.
Your childish tantrum has reduced my hold, but there are still ways to get back to the top.
I’ve hidden the key in my office, tucked between The Prince and Influence. ” He grins, like I’m in on the joke.
My non-response makes his grin fade. “You don’t have to agree with my methods, Archie, but know that everything I’ve done is for this family. For its stability, power, and continuation. I did this for you, your brother, and your sister.”
I scoff. “See, you say that, but I don’t believe it.
Not for a second. You did this for your own ego.
All your kids ever wanted from you was a bit of attention without pain.
Maybe for you to throw the ball around the yard, to take us fishing, you know, normal dad stuff.
Instead, we got tortured, then taught to torture.
Or at least, that’s my story. Who knows what story Trevor would tell.
” I turn away, not wanting to see him anymore, but knowing there’s more to say.
Things I hate to admit. But I’m not going to lie. Not to myself, and not to him.
“You ignored Mattie because she was born a girl, even though she would have been the best candidate to take over your empire had you taken a moment to get to know her. She’s got your charisma, intelligence, and a surprisingly fluid morality.
It’s a pity you didn’t notice.” Moving toward the door, I slow my escape, not wanting to seem weak as my father’s anger fills the space where his body used to be.
But his body is practically bound to the bed by wires and tubes.
He’s not a threat to me. Not anymore. “I hope you die alone, in pain, knowing your legacy is dead alongside you. I won’t be back. ”
Clara waits a few feet away, RJ standing guard beside her. She reaches for my hand as my father’s angry shouts of my name chase us down the hall. But he can’t catch us. And God willing, he never will again.
I’m not a Westerhouse. Not anymore. There’s no reason for me to hover next to his deathbed.
RJ catches my eye over Clara’s head, his nod of approval sinking into me like a healing balm. We’re not where we were. But we’re family. A real one. One that forgives instead of punishes. And I look forward to learning what that’s like over the next sixty-plus years.
It’s got to be better than my last twenty-two.