After what seems like an eternity, her sobbing turns to soft weeping. “It must have been so horrible,” she whispers. “When I think about how scared and hurt he must have been…”
I closed my eyes and sigh. Yes. It must have been terrible. I’m sure whoever did it didn’t spare her father a moment’s pain. He would have been lucky to catch a shiv to the kidney when the guard turned his back, but something tells me his death wasn’t that merciful—not after what he did. Men like him don’t receive the benefit of mercy.
“You can’t think about it,” I soothe, stroking her hair while she continues to cling to me. “It will only hurt worse the more you think about it. If he was in pain, he isn’t anymore. You can’t let yourself imagine it.”
“How can I not? He was my dad! I know he was wrong. I know he did bad things, but I still…”
“Go on,” I murmur, my lips close to her ear. “You can say it.”
“I loved him.”
“I know. Even when we hate our parents, we can’t help but love them.” I should know. Here I am, lying in her bed, doing everything I can to help her keep it together, and all the while, I know my father is responsible for this. At least, I seriously suspect it. Who else has the pull or the resources?
To say nothing of the grudge he held. We held. It was always going to end this way. The more I think about it, the more surprised I am that it took this long.
“I know you’re only pretending to care.” She presses her face against my shoulder, but nothing could muffle the bitterness in her voice.
“That isn’t true.”
Finally, she lifts her head, hitting me with a look of disgust. “Come on. You hated him. Everybody did. Don’t pretend you aren’t glad he’s gone.”
Why does she insist on putting me in this position? Isn’t it enough that I’m here, holding her, doing everything I can to provide comfort when so few around here would? Haven’t I already proven how much she means?
“Don’t you know two things can be true at once?” Using my thumb, I catch fresh tears as they spill over her lashes. “No, I won’t pretend I liked him or agreed with what he did. He was still your father, and that means something, too. I’m not an entirely heartless bastard.”
“I know you aren’t.” She buries her face again, trembling. “I’m still so ashamed to say I loved him. Love him.”
“I know. I’ve been ashamed to admit the same thing about my own father. If there’s one man who doesn’t deserve it, he’s the one.”
“I can tell you love him. You get a look on your face sometimes when you’re around him. You and your whole family.”
“I didn’t know we were that transparent.”
“You can’t hide love.” She might as well be talking about us. A part of me thinks she might be.
Her grip on me tightens until she practically squeezes the air out of my lungs. “What am I going to do? He’s gone, and Mom is still missing.”
“Still?” It doesn’t come as a surprise. I’ll play along for her sake, even though I doubt Mrs. Mather will show up any time soon. If ever.
“I don’t have anybody anymore.”
“That isn’t true.” I shouldn’t say it. It’ll only make things worse. How am I supposed to allow her to continue this way, feeling so alone? “You have somebody. And not only me, remember. You have Brittney. Lucas seems to have taken a liking to you. My mom and sister love you.”
“Your dad hates me, so I think he cancels them out.”
“He doesn’t hate you. He wouldn’t have let you step one foot in our home if he did. You’re not alone.”
She goes stiff. “I want to know who did it. Who killed him? I need to know. And Mom. I need to know what happened. I can’t go the rest of my life without knowing.”
I would warn her of how sometimes, not knowing is for the better. I would advise her not to kick the hornet’s nest. To leave things where they are and do her best to build a future since knowing the truth won’t change anything, but I can’t do that because I love her, even if I can’t say it out loud. I know what she needs to hear.
“I’ll find out for you. I promise.”
She looks up at me, and there’s that trust again, shining in her eyes. She trusts and needs me. “You will? You’re sure?”
“If it’s what you need, yes. Whatever it takes.” I hate the sense of writing a check I can’t cash, but it’s too late now. I’ve already committed.
“Thank you.” She exhales in relief. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”