Freed (Steel Brothers Saga 18)

“Six, Dad. You saved six lives.”

He smiles. “So I did.”

“Those six people sure think you’re a hero. Donny and I think you’re a hero. If you had died in Iraq, no one would have rescued us.”

He nods. “That’s true. For many reasons, I’m very glad I didn’t die in Iraq.”

“I am too.”

“My point is, I had just as hard of a time dealing with what I’d been through as you’re having.”

“Well, your father didn’t start the process.”

Dad sighs. “As a matter of fact, Dale, he did.”

I stare at my father. His countenance is serious. He means what he says. I open my mouth to ask for an explanation, but only silence emerges.

I have no idea what to say to him.

“Your mother and I, along with the rest of the family, decided to keep our history buried as best we could,” Dad says. “We wanted to protect you. Protect your brother, sisters, and cousins. I wonder now if maybe it was the wrong decision, given what you and Donny went through. At the time, though, we thought it best, and if there’s one lesson I’ve learned during my long life, it’s never to second-guess yourself. It only leads to heartache because you can’t change the past anyway.”

I nod. The what-if game. I’m pretty familiar with it.

“At any rate, the decision was made then, and nothing can change it. I don’t talk a lot about my parents, and now you’re probably beginning to understand why. It’s a long and complicated story, but suffice it to say that my father played a significant role in my abduction and abuse.”

“Yeah? I’m sorry about that, Dad. I really am. But did he sell you for five thousand dollars?”

Dad shakes his head. “No. He paid to have it done. And he didn’t pay five thousand. He paid five million.”

My jaw drops.

“Like I said,” he continues, “it’s a long and complicated story. He didn’t realize he was paying to have me abducted and tortured, but that’s what ultimately happened.”

I shake my head, ready to puke. “I can’t hear this.”

“I understand. I don’t like thinking about it. But I can’t change it. And this is where your choice comes in, son.”

I scoff. “What choice is that again?”

“There is a choice, and it’s an important one.”

“I’m listening.”

“You sent Ashley away.”

“Of course I did. She shouldn’t have to deal with any of this shit.”

“But you love her, and she loves you.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“She makes you happy.”

“Dad, nothing can make me happy now.”

He smiles again, and again I want to punch him in the nose.

“Dale,” he says, “you have to live with this no matter what. What your birth father did to you and Donny. With the results of the fire. What you did. All of that is yours to live with.”

“I fucking know that!” I tug at my hair. “See? No fucking choice.”

“But there is,” Dad says calmly. “It’s like the poem says. You can choose which road to take.”

“My father and that damned poem!”

“He marked it for a reason—a reason we can only surmise. But you found it. Let it speak to you. Think about which choice to make now.”

“Neither changes what I’ve been through.”

“You’re absolutely right, Dale,” Dad says. “You have to live with all of it. That’s not part of the choice. Your choice is—do you want to live with it with Ashley? Or without her?”

Chapter Fifty-Four

Ashley

The next morning, I force myself out of bed. I didn’t sleep. I seriously don’t know if I’ll ever sleep again.

I’m going home to LA.

Home to my mother. We can commiserate together. We’re both basically in the same situation—the end of a short relationship with men we loved. Except her man didn’t leave her by choice.

No. I can’t cry about this anymore. I just can’t.

I traipse into the small bathroom.

Ugh. I’m unrecognizable. My eyes are still bloodshot and swollen, my nose nearly raw from crying and blowing it into the sandpaper tissues this hotel provides.

I can’t stay here. I have to go as soon as I can make arrangements. I need a car. Or a plane ticket and a trip to the airport. A plane ticket will be easier. I take a quick shower and then fire up my laptop. The sooner I can escape Colorado, the better. I’ll call a cab to take me to the airport. It’ll cost a ton, but I have a credit card.

I’ve stopped caring, anyway.

I’ll go home. Finish school. Get my degree. Get a job.

I’ll go through life the way I always thought I would.

Except now it’s no longer enough.

I inhale deeply. Doesn’t matter. It is what it is. The words I said to Jade yesterday.

It is what it is.

The travel site opens on my computer, I plug in my destination, and hit search.

I jerk when someone knocks on the door.

Housekeeping, most likely. “I’m still here. Please come back later,” I yell.