"No," he says harshly, then turns back to face Dallas. "You're the one I need to talk with right now."
"All right," Dallas said, sitting on the sofa and not bothering to offer Bill a chair. "You want to talk? Let's talk."
Bill glanced toward the bedroom, where Jane had excused herself, but not before shooting Dallas a worried look. He'd simply brushed a kiss over her lips, certain he looked passably nonchalant.
But while he'd had years of practice camouflaging his nerves, that didn't change the fact that right now he was worried. What did Bill suspect? More to the point, what could Bill prove?
"I'd rather talk somewhere else. Do you have an office? Is there a common area in the building we can use?"
"It's a one-bedroom apartment, Bill. In case you missed the memo, Jane and I recently saw the tide turn in our fortunes. But have a seat." Now he did gesture to the sofa. All things considered it probably made more sense to at least be cordial to the man. "We can talk here."
"It's just that Jane..." He drifted off, glancing toward the closed bedroom door.
"Is that what this is about?" Dallas leaned back, purposely not crossing his arms over his chest. He wanted to look open, not closed off. And most definitely not defensive. "My relationship with Jane?"
"No. Well, yes, in a way. I just don't think that what I have to say is something you want her to overhear."
"Bill, you're trying my patience. Whatever you have to say to me you can say to Jane." No worry here. Nothing to hide at all. "So come on. What's got you so worked up you came all the way up from Washington to see me? Frankly, I don't think there's been a day in your life where I was the man at the top of your list. Except that one time. What was that, again?" He pulled a frown. "Oh, wait, I remember. When you decided to investigate my kidnapping against my wishes."
"I remember that, too," Bill said, still standing. "I wondered why you were so intent on blocking that investigation."
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you were fucking around in my life without my permission?"
"Possibly. Or it could be that you were afraid that investigating your kidnapping would lead down all sorts of strange rabbit holes."
Dallas felt his stomach clench and told himself to just keep breathing. "If you're going to talk in riddles, Bill, you're going to have to come up with something cleverer. Or at least clearer."
"You want clarity?" He took two steps forward. If Dallas had been standing, they would have been nose to nose. "How's this? I think you didn't want WORR or the FBI investigating because you were afraid we'd learn about Deliverance. How's that for some fucking clarity?"
"Deliverance?" Shit, shit, goddamn motherfucking shit. "You're talking about that vigilante organization that Jane's focusing on in her upcoming book? What the hell does that have to do with me?"
"A lot, I'm thinking. And if you've dragged Jane down into any of your sordid shit, Dallas, I swear to god I'll--"
"What?" Dallas was on his feet, because as soon as Bill brought Jane into this, the gloves were off. "What the hell do you think I'm doing? And why the hell would you think I've dragged her anywhere?"
Bill actually laughed. "Are you kidding me? Do you think I haven't checked you out fully? Do you think I don't know who your real father is?"
"You son of a--"
"And then you stoop so low as to seduce your sister..."
"You have no idea what we are to each other." He ground out each word, a vile anger bubbling inside him. "No idea how we saved each other."
"I know you poisoned her," Bill countered. "Not physically, maybe, but you destroyed her all the same."
"No," he said. "No. I saved her. And whether you understand it or not, she saved me." He strode forward, getting in the other man's face. "She loves me, Bill, and that's what you can't stand. That you never really had her. That she was always mine, even when you called her wife."
Bill blanched, but otherwise didn't falter. "Maybe so. Maybe she doesn't love me. But that's too bad, because she damn sure picked the wrong man. What is she going to do when you're locked away? Because you will be, Dallas. I've been asking questions. Lots of questions. And guess what? I'm starting to find answers, too."
He took a step closer. "Think about that, Dallas." His voice was low. Threatening. "Because I promise you--I damn sure will be."
"You heard all that?"
I've stepped quietly from the bedroom and into the living room to find Dallas standing by the window. He hasn't turned to look at me. He's just standing, frozen, looking toward the roof of the next building over and at the tiny sliver of Central Park we can see in the distance.
I come up behind him and curve my arms around his waist, then rest my head on his back. "He can't prove anything," I say. "He's just guessing. Positioning. It's more about me than about you."
He turns, then kisses me tenderly before leaning back to look into my eyes. "That's true. But he'll be like a dog with a bone on this, because he knows he's right even if he can't prove it. Yet. And he'll keep digging and digging. He won't give up, Jane. He won't give up because of you."