“Don’t be dramatic. She’s right outside this office.”
“You killed her soul. And in my eyes, it’s the same thing.”
Baylor sighs. Still not convinced he’s in any danger. Even though I’ve very calmly spelled it out for him.
“I called her father,” I say, deciding it’s time to put this sick fuck out of his misery.
“I’m her father,” he growls.
“No,” I say. “You’re not. You blackmailed him to make him leave, didn’t you?” He opens his mouth, presumably to lie, because that’s all this asshole does. But I stop him. “He was a broken man back then. Penniless. Barely able to feed his family and then you came along and made… what’s the name for that?” I stop to think for a moment. “Oh yeah. An indecent proposal. You bought them both, didn’t you? He never forgave himself. He told me he tried to make contact a few years after he took the deal and you had him framed for attempted murder and assault. He spent most of his money on lawyers and a retrial and eventually the facts came to light and he was set free. He contacted Lyssa’s mother, used the rest of his money to buy that apartment and put it in Lyssa’s name when her mother died. He gave her an out and she took it. She was better. She was thriving and then you found me and told me to break her.”
I’m so angry now, I’m shaking.
“You hired me to bring her back here because you and your friends were done waiting.”
He doesn’t even bother to deny it. But he’s still not convinced he’s done yet. There’s still a slight glimmer of hope in his eyes that there’s a solution to this little snag in his plans.
“What are you trying to say?” he says. “You’re calling the police? You’re going to get me arrested? For what? Playing sex games with my stepdaughter? It’s not even illegal. She’s twenty-five years old.”
“Yeah, let’s just get to the point. I’m walking out of here with Lyssa right now. And you… well, you’re going to be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life. Because her real father had no idea this was happening, but now that he does—”
Baylor laughs. “Now that he does… what?” And that last part definitely comes out as a threat.
I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this. That maybe, deep down inside, this man had some decency.
But it has, and he doesn’t.
So I say, “You know what? Forget about him. Forget about all of that. I sent that whole text stream to a friend of mine—she’s actually here, covering the wedding for the paper.”
“What?”
“Yeah. So. You know. If you don’t let Lyssa leave with me right the fuck now my friend is gonna post that shit all over the internet. Forget about the police, and jail, and morals, and the right thing, and how one raises a daughter, and people coming after you another day. Because Baylor—you’re about to have a fucking PR nightmare on your hands in less than thirty minutes.”
His chest falls. Like he was holding his breath and he just let it out.
The saddest part of this whole confrontation is that he’s worried about his image. That’s what changes his mind in this moment. He’s worried about what people will think of him. How they will talk about him. He’s worried about Twitter headlines and talking heads on the news. He’s worried about stock prices.
Not her.
Not Lyssa.
When I look at her she’s still standing at the bottom of the steps. And even though she’s all the way across the room I can tell she’s crying.
I turn back to Baylor and say, “I’m walking out now. And I’m taking Lyssa with me. And if you ever come near us I will—”
“You’ll what?” he growls, mustering up one final act of defiance.
“You know what? Never mind that either. Feel free to come near us. Because then I’ll make sure you get what you deserve.”
I turn my back to him and open the door. Walk over to Lyssa and take her hand. She said something that first day that comes back to me as I do this.
So that’s what I say to her now.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX – LYSSA
When I come down the stairs in my disgusting wedding dress I hear nothing. My world is blessedly blank. People gather around me, attendants fixing my hair, or my dress, or my makeup. They rush around with mouths opening and closing. Expressions on their tired, stressed faces. Exasperated at my lack of… involvement.
But they too, are all silent.
I can’t hear any of it.
“Lyssa!”
But I hear that.
I turn my head to find Mason pulling open the door to the office. But my father quickly slams it closed again. Leans down into Mason’s space and begins to talk.
I want to reach out to Mason. Tell him everything. Make him understand. But he’s locked up in that office. Being told what to do, and what will happen next, and that’s it.