Page 37 of It Was Always You

“My father was a pathetic excuse for a man. He got a huge power kick out of hurting women and children. He beat Mum for the entirety of their marriage, and he would rant and rave about how she was just a stand-in. He was mixed up with a lot of scumbags who had more money than morals, and eventually, someone came up with the idea of hosting these auctions. Which was the worst idea ever if you ask me. That led to him attempting to kidnap Helen and later selling Mum off.”

“Did you ever manage to find her?” The last I heard, he was hell-bent on finding her, but the look of devastation on Logan’s face answers me before he shakes his head.

Cursing, Jonathan paces the room, a clear sign he’s trying to process this messy state of affairs.

Jack asks, “How does my daughter play into this?”

“Some still have Angus’s way of thinking. They believe I’m a fool to have killed him, that there’s no way a twenty-five- year-old bachelor would have a clue about what he’s doing. I’m hoping that by getting married they’ll settle down long enough for me to reform the whole Clan, and in return, I think the best way forward is for us to merge.”

Merging would mean submitting to Jonathan, something I never imagined someone as headstrong as Logan would want to do. Sure, he’d have control over the Clan, but at the end of the day, he’d have Jonathan to answer to and would essentially be another branch of the Four Points. In other words, he gains a bride, and we gain a whole army of men.

Jonathan asks, “What’s in this for you? You can’t want a bride that much.”

“Resources. I have a hunch that could be explosive if true, but so far, I’ve had no luck proving it. I’m going to need the help of one of your Butcher brothers and Owen for it.”

“Well, come on, man. Spit it out.” My patience these days is non-existent. Every second I spend away from Cora is a second too long.

“I have reason to believe that the hit-and-run that killed Helen didn’t actually kill her. The driver was on our take and a close friend of Angus’s, who mysteriously disappeared afterwards. From what I understand, when Cora had to identify the body, there was too much burn damage from the car explosion, and they had to use dental records?” At Jonathan’s nod, he continues, “Leaving ample opportunity for it not to be her.”

As Jonathan remains frozen, my mind races. Cora never actually saw the body. No one did. It was a closed-casket funeral. And if no one saw the body, then there’s every chance it wasn’t her. Dental records are all too easy to manipulate, after all. Meaning she could be alive.

“We can’t tell her,” I rasp, drawing their attention to me. “If we tell her and it turns out not to be true, it’ll destroy her. I’ll work with you. I’ll do anything it takes to get to the bottom of it, but we can’t breathe a word to Cora until we have concrete evidence.”

Locking eyes with Logan, it’s clear he understands what I’m not saying. Just because she might not have died in the car crash doesn’t mean she didn’t die afterwards. And to tell Cora her mum might be alive only to later find out she did, in fact, die, would be beyond cruel.

With that, we all share looks of understanding before down- ing our drinks and getting signatures on the contracts, cement- ing both this marriage and the merger.

Chapter 31

Adjusting to being home was more difficult than any of us could have expected. While I know logically that I’m safe and this place is locked down better than Fort Knox, a part of me is still stuck in that cell, surviving out of sheer stubbornness alone. This has resulted in a lot of hyperventilating and lashing out at any loud noise or sudden movement.

It’s as if once the shock of being here wore off, my mind went straight back into that fight-or-flight mode and refused to calm down. Owen and Dad have been patient and did everything they could to reassure me and make me feel safe, but nothing helps silence the demons screaming in my head.

Damaged.

Useless.

Pathetic.

When he knows how weak you are, he won’t want you.

I know this is breaking both their hearts if the haunted look in their eyes and permanent frowns are anything to go by, and the way they’ve been walking on eggshells is both endearing and frustrating at the same time.

I refuse to let those bastards haunt me from their unmarked graves any longer. After shooting a text to Abbie about needing her help, I turn to Owen who’s working on his laptop at the desk they moved in here a few days ago. When he said he wasn’t going to let me out of his sight, he wasn’t exaggerating. Other than attending a meeting with Logan, he hasn’t left this room for longer than it takes to heat up some food.

“Owen?” He swivels round to look at me, a soft expression on his face as his eyes catalogue every inch of me as if something could have changed in the half-hour since he helped me eat some tomato soup and bread for lunch.

“What’s up, baby? Do you need anything?”

“No. I’ve decided enough is enough and the first step in my self-imposed ‘fuck you Angus’ mission is having some girl time with Abbie. And then later there’s some stuff I should probably share with you.”

“Fuck yeah, that sounds great, Cora. There’re a few errands I can run while she’s here to give you girls some privacy. Do you want me to grab pizza for dinner?” Every time I think I couldn’t love and appreciate him more, he does something sickly sweet to prove me wrong.

“That sounds perfect, O.” He comes over and kisses me on the forehead before there’s a knock on the door, and my redheaded best friend appears. But that’s pretty much all that’s familiar about her. Normally, Abbie wouldn’t be caught dead without her armour of makeup, perfectly curled hair, and a smile that could break a million hearts. However, the girl in front of me is like an echo of the one I know and love.

Her hair is piled on top of her head, the sweats and hoodie she’s wearing are drowning her to the point that if I didn’t know better, I’d think they belonged to a guy and she’d borrowed them. But most concerning is her red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes, which have never looked more haunted.

Owen quietly slips out with a squeeze to her shoulder, and within seconds, I find myself with a ball of Abbie curled into my side as she clutches me so tight it’s a wonder I can breathe. “Babe, I was so worried for you,” she cried into my shoulder, “and then Owen told me you’re pregnant? They were starving and beating you while knowing you’re pregnant?”

---