Chapter 20 #2
"I have contacts, Kelly. It's not unusual for a father to look out for his daughter."
It was unusual for this father, unless it was about control. He was all in on that one.
"I'm a grown woman, Dad. I don't need you running background checks on the men I date."
Her father placed a hand on her shoulder. There was no warmth in her father’s touch. None. Just a coldness that could sink into her bones if she let it.
"If you’re all grown up, then I can assume you already knew that his father is Sheriff Seth Reilly, who helped put Wade Bryson and then later his son Jake Bryson behind bars? He told you, of course? Because you’re an adult and don’t need anyone."
Kelly fought to keep her expression neutral despite the shock that rippled through her.
She hadn't known.
Ben had mentioned his father was a sheriff, but nothing about famous cases or dangerous criminals.
Nothing about the Brysons. Of course, she knew that story.
She was a true crime podcaster, for heaven’s sake.
The Bryson story was legendary, and they’d even tried to make a movie about it a few years back.
She hadn’t known, and Ben had never mentioned it. He knew what she did for a living, and he’d never said a word.
But she'd be damned if she'd give her father the satisfaction of catching her off guard and letting him have this win.
"Of course he did," she lied, her voice steady despite the sudden racing of her heart. Sadly, she’d had years of telling her parents little lies to whoppers to keep them from having a cow when she was a teenager. "Ben doesn't keep secrets from me."
Her father studied her face, clearly searching for signs of surprise or confusion. Kelly met his gaze evenly, years of practice at hiding her true feelings from her family coming in handy.
"Wade Bryson was a serial killer," her father continued, as if she didn’t have a clue. "His son Jake went after Logan Wright’s friends and family years later. Tried to kill Wright’s daughter.
He’s been in prison ever since. Do you understand what I’m saying here?
Someone wanted your friend’s father dead. For revenge, Kelly.”
Kelly had read every word she could get her hands on about this, including the book by Ava Wright and Kaylee Mitchell. She knew all the nasty, awful details, including what had happened to Brianna Wright, being taken hostage as bait to kill her father.
If that poor girl wasn’t messed up in the head after all of that….
"I'm aware of their history," Kelly said, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "What's your point, Dad?"
Her father leaned closer, his voice dropping.
"Trouble seems to follow that family. You could get hurt."
The irony of her father suddenly caring about her safety after dismissing her concerns about Lori's case for years was not lost on Kelly.
"So what are you suggesting? That I stop seeing him because his father did his job and caught dangerous criminals?"
"I'm saying you should be careful. These connections have consequences."
Kelly's patience, already thin after an evening of family scrutiny, snapped completely.
"Are you saying I'm going to get murdered if I stay with Ben?"
Her father didn't flinch at her blunt question. His reply was equally direct.
"You might."
The coldness in his tone shocked her more than the words themselves. This wasn't paternal concern; this was David Bateman trying a last-ditch effort to wrest control back regarding her life. He was hoping to scare her enough that she’d run to him for protection.
But he’d never laid that groundwork her entire life. He’d never been the one she’d run to when she thought there were monsters under the bed or when kids at school had teased her for wearing glasses and reading books. If her life was truly in danger, he’d be the last person she’d go to for help.
He’d simply never been there for her. Ever.
Then she thought of Ben's warm hand at the small of her back, his patient listening, the way he'd stood calm and collected in the face of Rob's condescension. His assertion that he’d take all the slings and arrows from her family so they’d leave her alone. He’d shown her more care in less than a month than her father had in thirty years.
This is so sad.
"Well, hopefully his family will find my killer, unlike Lori's," she retorted, the words cutting through the air between them. “They won’t give up or blow it off as her own fault.”
Her father's face hardened, the blow landing exactly where she'd aimed it. The Batemans, like most of Bergen, had moved on from Lori Powell's murder with indecent haste, urging Kelly to do the same.
"This isn't about your friend," he said, his voice tight with anger. "This is about you rushing into a relationship with a man whose family has dangerous enemies. A man who, despite your protests to the contrary, I bet hasn't been honest with you about his background."
That last part stung because it might be true. Kelly's mind raced with questions. Why hadn't Ben mentioned any of this? Was he hiding other things from her? She hated the fact that her dad could still get under her skin this way.
"I appreciate your concern," she said, not meaning it at all. "But my relationship with Ben is my business, not yours."
"Kelly," her father began, but she cut him off with a raised hand.
Surprisingly, he did stop talking.
"I need to get back to the table. Celia will be upset if I miss her toast."
She turned to leave, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin in a show of defiance she didn't entirely feel. Her hands, she noticed with distant annoyance, were trembling slightly. She curled them into fists, willing them to steady.
"Kelly," her father called after her. "We're not done discussing this."
She didn't turn around, didn't acknowledge his words. The old David Bateman tactic, acting as if a conversation wasn't over until he decided it was. But she wasn't seventeen anymore, unable to leave until dismissed.
Kelly walked away, her steps measured and deliberate despite the storm brewing inside her. She would deal with her father later.
And Ben... she would deal with him too.
She needed a minute to collect herself, to process this new information about Ben. But Bergen had never been a place that allowed the luxury of privacy or reflection.
"There you are," Celia's voice cut through her thoughts as her sister materialized beside her. "What were you and Dad talking about?"
Her sister's smile was fixed in place, a perfect wedding rehearsal mask, though her eyes were hard with annoyance.
Don’t take up poker, sis. You suck at hiding your feelings.
“It’s not important.”
"You're making a scene," Celia hissed, her perfect bride smile never wavering as she steered Kelly toward an arrangement of flowers near the wall. "I could see you and Dad talking."
"We were just talking," Kelly repeated. "No big deal."
"It looked like an argument from here," Celia insisted, her voice low but sharp. "You had that look on your face, the same one you always get when you're about to start trouble."
Trouble? I’m trying to keep away from it.
"I'm sorry," Kelly apologized reflexively, the words coming out automatically after years of practice and conditioning.
Then she caught herself. Why was she apologizing? She wasn't the one who had started this. She didn’t see her dad being sorry about anything. Ever.
Celia pressed her lips together into a thin line, a sure sign of being pissed off.
"Everything is so calm until you show up. Then everybody is upset. Mom's been checking her blood pressure all day, and Rob had to take an antacid after lunch. Can't you just try to blend in for once?"
Kelly felt a familiar weight settle on her shoulders, the burden of being the family disruption, the problem child who couldn't conform.
She had carefully planned this weekend: fly in, attend the wedding, fly out. Minimal drama, minimal interaction. She hadn't counted on shocking revelations or her dad complicating everything.
I am so tired. Just so very tired.
"Then maybe I shouldn't even come to the wedding tomorrow," Kelly said, the words slipping out before she could stop them.
Celia's expression hardened, the bridal glow momentarily eclipsed by genuine anger.
"Do whatever you want."
The dismissive tone, the implication that Kelly's presence or absence was immaterial to her sister's happiness, stung more than it should have. Years of feeling like the family afterthought crystallized in that moment.
Kelly's patience, already stretched thin by her father's revelations about Ben, snapped completely.
"You should take your own advice,” Kelly said as her sister turned to go back to the party.
Instead, Celia stopped in her tracks, an expression of genuine puzzlement on her face.
"What do you mean by that?" Celia asked.
This was a mistake. Kelly shouldn’t even have brought any of this up, but she was simply exhausted. Just a few days with her family, and she was worn down to the nub emotionally.
There was also a part of her who didn’t have many fucks left to give. Her family didn’t care about her and clearly thought she was a nuisance. They were all happier when she wasn’t around.
"I mean that you don't make your own decisions," Kelly heard herself reply, stepping closer to her sister.
"You just give in to what everyone else wants.
Mom chose your college major. Dad picked your first apartment.
Trevor's mother selected your wedding colors.
When was the last time you actually decided something for yourself? "
Color flooded Celia's cheeks, bright spots of pink against her carefully applied foundation.
"That's not true,” she hissed,
"Really? This entire wedding has Mom's fingerprints all over it, from the venue to the menu. I bet she even helped pick out your dress."
"You have no idea what you're talking about," Celia said, her voice rising slightly before she caught herself. "Just because I value my family's input doesn't mean I don't make my own choices."
"Input is one thing. Letting them run your life is another."
"Unlike you, I don't think everything is about me," Celia snapped, the perfect bride mask slipping completely now. Her sister was angry, and in a way, Kelly was thrilled to see it. At least it was an honest and real emotion. "Some of us care about making other people happy."
The implication was clear. Kelly was selfish for wanting autonomy, for living her life on her own terms. It was the same criticism her family had leveled at her for years, packaged in different words but carrying the same message.
Be smaller. Want less. Accept what we give you.
"Being yourself isn't selfish, Celia," Kelly said quietly. "It's honest."
Something flickered in her sister's eyes, something that might have been understanding or even envy, but it was quickly replaced by anger.
"Save the self-help talk for your podcast," Celia said coldly. "Some of us have a real wedding to prepare for."
Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away, her back rigid with indignation as she rejoined her fiancé at the head table. The perfect bride once more, serene and untroubled.
Kelly stood alone for a moment, fighting the familiar ache in her chest. Why did she do this to herself? Deep down, she’d known they’d never change.
But I have hope.
Cold comfort when I’m all alone.
She scanned the room for Ben, needing his steady presence, his calm amid the storm of her family dynamics. She spotted him across the room, chatting easily with Trevor's father. They were laughing about something, Ben's head tilted attentively as the older man spoke.
Watching him, so at ease in this social setting, Kelly felt a new emotion surge through her.
Ben had been so supportive, so understanding about her investigation into Lori's death.
But he had never mentioned his father's famous cases.
Never told her about the Brysons, about the danger his family had faced.
She knew what it was like to live in a small town with a notorious local crime. She would have understood. But he hadn't trusted her with that information, hadn't volunteered it even as they'd grown closer.
Maybe she trusted him, far more than he trusted her. And that hurt.
After last night, she’d thought they might have something special between them.
Maybe Ben Reilly wasn’t so different after all.