She smiled at that. “I like to think so.”
“Did he ever hit Melissa?” Ian asked.
She shook her head. “They fought often and loudly but…he just seemed to keep himself in check somehow. I think he knew Melissa would go to the cops.”
“Your mom never did?” he asked, but he already knew the answer.
“I begged her, but…no. She wouldn’t.”
“So what happened?” Because something had tipped the precarious balance. That much was obvious.
“Alcohol happened,” Riley said in a disgusted voice. “He was always a heavy drinker, but living with Melissa, suppressing his rage, it got worse. And one night, Melissa was working the late shift. He expected me to have his dinner on the table. Not only didn’t I do it, but I talked back and…he slapped me. Hard across the face.”
A building fury like he’d never felt before filled Ian, making him want to lash out. But his more rational self understood that anger was the last thing Riley needed to see, and he clamped down on his simmering emotions.
“Whenever you’re ready,” he said in a gentle voice he barely recognized.
She nodded. “I tried, but I couldn’t hide the red mark on my face. The next day, Alex saw, and he went berserk. Part of me was surprised he took it so badly. I mean, in my mind, a slap was nothing compared to what he’d done to my mother, though I hid that from Alex as much as I could. Looking back, I thought I was getting off lightly, but Alex was furious.”
“Good for him,” Ian muttered.
“He cornered my father. He had his hand around his throat, literally cutting off his air supply. He told my father that if he ever touched me again, he was a dead man.”
Ian closed his eyes, grateful to the half sibling he’d never bothered to get to know. The man he was irrationally jealous of.
Riley’s harsh laugh recaptured Ian’s attention. “My father threatened to go to the cops. Can you imagine the irony? Alex told him to go right ahead. Then he followed up his words with a knee to my father’s groin and warned him that was just a preview. He said I was off-limits, and he dragged me out of there.”
She shook her head, obviously lost in the memory. “I know my father believed his threats, because at seventeen, Alex was massively huge from working out for football.”
“What happened next?” Ian asked.
“I called Melissa at work; she came home immediately. She refused to stay with him after that. Alex stood watch while we packed. Melissa told my father I’d be living with her until I was eighteen and if he had a problem with it, to take her to court. With Alex looming over him, he backed off. That was the last night I saw him or heard from him until I got back from Arizona.”
Ian narrowed his gaze. “Which brings us to now.”
She nodded. “There have been hang-ups on my home answering machine. I never thought it was my father. Then I returned to work to find out he’d left a message while I was away. He said I owed him. And then Friday night, after I got home from shopping, the phone rang, and the person was breathing into my ear. I hung up, and the phone rang again. I answered it yelling, and it was Alex. He wanted to know what was going on. I said it was nothing. He didn’t believe me…so I told him.”
“Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you trust me enough to let me in before now?”
He forced himself to remain calm, not to yell or show her just how frustrated and angry he really was. Not now, when he finally realized that if he flipped out in any way, he could very likely lose her for good.
“It wasn’t a question of whether or not I trusted you, it was humiliating, admitting I grew up that way. Besides, I’d put him so firmly in my past, I never thought about him, talked about him, or wanted to revisit those days.” She glanced away.
Once again, he gently redirected her with a touch of his hand. He wanted them communicating, not shutting each other out.
“Do you think I want to deal with my family history? But it’s between us, thanks to Alex. I’m trying with him. Because of you.”
If he was going to make that kind of effort, he needed to know she’d reciprocate in kind.
“What do you want me to say? I should have told you, and I didn’t.”
“Because you have trust issues.” And here, he’d thought those issues were all his.
She blinked in surprise. “I suppose I do.”
Part of him understood, as he was still working through his own. Another part wanted her to know she belonged to him. That she could come to him with anything, would come to him first, and know he’d give her everything she needed.
Him.