“No,” I said, trying to sound as soothing as possible. “No one is saying that.”
Colin looked up then. “I’m sorry.”
I had no idea what to say. Colin didn’t really have anything to apologize about. Bryce did have his father’s eyes. He was almost an exact physical replica of his father, just like Joe was of mine. It happened. Genetics.
“Colin,” I said, “if you have more information for us, we need it. Now.”
“I’m trying. Sometimes my thoughts are all a blur.”
“I understand.” At least I tried to. He’d been through so much at Tom Simpson’s hands. He could hardly be expected to—
“Yes,” Colin said. “There’s something else.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Bryce
Marjorie’s touch helped calm me down a little.
But only a little.
“What?” I gritted out. “What else?”
Colin shrank back in his chair again, fear lacing his greenish eyes. I’d scared him, and I felt ambivalent about that. I was not my father, but the fact that I looked like him had to affect Colin. I understood, yet I didn’t. I wanted to separate myself from my father, wanted to cut every part of him from me.
At the same time, though, I didn’t.
I didn’t want to let go of the good times. The pleasant memories. My happiness as a child.
I had the best father in the world.
How many times I’d thought those words as a kid, even as an adult. He’d been so supportive when I brought Henry home, had doted on him, fussed over him.
My God, I’d left my son alone with that man.
Henry was fine. I had no doubt that my father had cared for him as much as he’d cared for me. I knew in my heart that he’d never been inappropriate with my son, as he never had with me.
So much going on in my head. I wanted to jump out of my skin to escape sometimes. I’d let go. I’d professed my love to Marj and committed myself to a relationship. I hoped I hadn’t succumbed too soon.
If I continued down this path of self-destruction and hurt her in the process…
I couldn’t.
I absolutely couldn’t.
“Start talking,” I said, trying to sound calmer than I felt.
“My dad told me something a while ago, right after Joe Steel rescued me.”
“What?” Marjorie asked.
“He said this wasn’t over. He’d find a way to make someone pay.”
“Your assailant is dead,” Marj said. “He’s already paid the ultimate price.”
Colin shook his head vehemently. “That’s not what I mean. That’s not what he said. He said he’d find a way to make someone pay. Someone. Not necessarily my assailant.”
“And you think he meant us?” Marj said.