Slayde’s face changes at once. His ice blue eyes cut to me. “Who is this Bennett?”
“I-I’ve never met him,” I say, truthfully, wishing at least Patrick were here to help me explain.
Slayde is on his feet, walking to where I stand, as Lainey pours us another glass of wine. “I need you to tell me,” he says.
Kenny follows, standing behind him, one hand on his waist the other holding his hand. She’s so tiny, but Slayde’s not quite six foot. He’s slim and muscular, and everything about him, from the way he moves to the way he stands, underscores his past as a fighter.
“You should probably hear this from Derek,” I say, holding his gaze. “I don’t know the whole story, and I’m afraid I’ll get the details wrong.”
“Just... try.” His expression is so intense, my chest clenches.
“Derek didn’t actually tell me,” I hedge. “He didn’t have time before... I got the story second-hand from Patrick.”
“Patrick knows?” Kenny’s brow lines, but Slayde cuts in.
“Melissa,” his voice urges. “Please.”
I take a breath and tell him what I know. “Bennett is a contract PI Derek used for cases here after he moved to Wilmington with me.”
“He’s from Princeton?” Slayde asks.
“I’m not sure. If not, he’s from somewhere near here.”
Slayde’s eyes wince. “Go on.”
“Derek didn’t know about this. Patrick was floored telling me the connection...” I try to remember the exact details. “Derek helped build the case against his son, who he called Shane.” Slayde’s eyes wince again, and my heart beats painfully hard. “He said Derek put him away with no mercy and he wanted Derek to suffer the same fate.”
Slayde exhales a long breath, and covers Kenny’s slim arm with his hand. I can’t help noticing the bold 21 inked near his thumb.
“Where is this Bennett?” he says.
“I don’t know.” Looking up at Elaine, she shakes her head. “It’s possible Patrick might be able to find him.”
Star and Mariska have slowly walked to where we’re standing, and now they join us.
“What’s going on?” Star says softly. “Do you know Bennett?”
“No,” he says not breaking eye contact with me. “Only one man ever claimed to be my father. He was the worst kind of lowlife.” His voice trails off, and Kenny’s arm tightens around his waist.
Turning back, a phone rings, and E
laine’s out of her chair, dashing to the guest bedroom. “It’s mine! It’s got to be Patrick.”
My head feels light, and I pull out a chair to sit. Mariska runs over behind me, placing her slim hands on my shoulders.
“Hey, babe, what’s the news?” We all lean forward listening. Elaine’s voice is unbelievably calm. “Okay,” she says. She frowns, and the room starts to blur. “Oh shit, Patrick, talk to Melissa. She can tell me what you say.” My best friend rushes toward me. “What?” She pauses. “Oh, right! Speakerphone!”
She pulls the phone away, touches its face, and sets it on the table in front of me. Then she drops to her knees beside me, taking both my hands in hers and holding them tightly. I can’t breathe waiting for what Patrick will say. Everyone in the room is huddled around my chair. Only the babies play on the carpet in the living room.
“I have great news and then... not so great news.”
I’m sure I’m going to throw up until Mariska shouts. “Good god, Patrick! Just tell us if Derek is free!”
“Yes—he is! The judge agreed with the prosecutor.” We all exhale in a united noise. Tears flood my eyes, spilling over onto my cheeks. I’m shaking as waves of relief rattle my insides.
Mariska and Elaine hug each other, and then we realize Patrick is shouting over the noise of our celebration.
“Hang on!” Elaine says, “Hang on, guys. What, Patrick?”