Secrets & Submission

“There were some records of her father’s abuse, all sealed and don’t ask me how I got them.”

I nod and tell him, “I won’t ask Silas either.”

“Good. But the records only contained statements and evidence of his abuse toward his first wife, not his second. She tried to press charges once, but they were dismissed on the grounds that she was mentally ill and filed a false report. When she died by suicide, no one questioned it at first.”

“Suicide? I thought—”

“Evidence came to light years later on that. The allegations that Ella’s mother was responsible. It wasn’t suicide, it was murder.”

“Do you have the records of what the evidence was?”

Damon nods his head. “I can send you the file, but keep it to yourself.” He meets my eye. “It was also sealed and it looks like …” He struggles with what to say next. “Whoever sealed it didn’t want it found, is all I’m going to say.”

“So whatever he did to his first wife, he might have done to the second?”

“Potentially, although she never hinted at abuse herself and she certainly had a reason to speak up when she was tried for murder. She also … died by suicide in her cell before the trial was over.”

“Suicide. Ella’s mother committed suicide. Do you think there’s a genetic—”

“Ella’s on antidepressants. But more than that … with what’s in that file, I would be surprised if her mother really killed herself.”

My friend shrugs off his jacket, getting off his stool to hang it up by the door. “The court cases mostly focused on Ella, from what I can see. It’s like she was used as a distraction in some ways.”

“To garner sympathy for her mother?”

“No.” He frowns. “Sympathy for her father.”

“That’s … interesting.”

“Everything that’s documented is odd. Half of it doesn’t appear to even appear to be legally relevant.”

My gut churns. “How old was Ella?”

“The trial lasted two years and started when Ella was only seven.”

Damon grabs a mug and gets his own cup of coffee, stirring in some sugar. Then he goes to the fridge and adds milk before coming back and taking his seat. “Cases involving the wealthy are generally pretty calculated.” He tests his coffee, then looks over the mug at me.

“Anyway, I thought I should mention it since you asked me to look into … whether he’d hurt Ella or not, or rather the extent of it.”

“What do you think?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him.”

The air turns stale between us as we each drink in silence. Glancing at my phone, I turn on the security app and check to see Ella, still sleeping soundly in bed.

“You’re not supposed to have that anymore.”

I peek up to find Damon tipping his coffee mug toward me.

“Do me a favor, and pretend like you didn’t see.”

He doesn’t respond to that request, although he doesn’t comment on it anymore either. “How are things going between you and Ella?”

Damon did just watch us fuck last night, I contemplate reminding him just to fuck with him. But there’s more to it and we both know that. I don’t know what to tell him. I have feelings for her. Obviously I do. But I’ve also been gentle with her, too much perhaps. I’m aware that she’s still grieving and coping with things that have happened to her as well as how she’s handled them. It’s heavy. With her, it feels easy, but everything surrounding us is troubled.

“She said she’d live with me,” I tell him.

His brow shoots up higher than they did when he first walked in. The surprise is genuine on Damon’s face. “You’re moving in together?”