Page 30 of Hitched

“But this is a little extreme, don’t you think, Caleb? Threatening you? Forcing you to marry someone you hate?”

“To be fair, I didn’t hate you, until, well…you know. And clearly, we don’t hate each other anymore, Laney.” I say fairly.

“Caleb, you’re missing my point.”

I lift a hand. “I know what you’re getting at. Sure, my da is going to kick my ass from here back to Scotland, but that will have to wait until this investigation is over, Laney.”

I can feel her gaze on me, as I stare at my hands. My briefs lay on the floor. I reach for them and slip them on, and then I do the same with my pants, until I’m fully dressed. She watches me, not sure why. I suppose she’s waiting for me to say more, but I don’t. And then it comes. “Caleb, does your da beat you?”

I snort, like it’s the stupidest question, ever. “Aye. Since I was a wee boy, Laney. All the time. And believe me, it’s not like I didn’t need it, either. If da didn’t scold me, mama did in his place.”

“Like, they smacked you?”

“For my own good, aye.”

She’s confused. “So then, why were you so offended when I hit you?”

“I’ve never been hit by anyone that wasn’t da or mama, Laney. Even most of my brothers don’t lay a finger on me. Just Ethan does.”

“Maybe because they know what it’s like, assuming that your mama and da beat them, too.”

“Look, Laney, it’s the way it is. It’s the way it always has been.”

“And you’ve never defended yourself?” She looks me up and down. “God, Caleb, you tower over your da.”

“If I ever laid a finger on my mama or my da, I’d be banished from the family. And that, Laney, is worse than any other punishment I could ever receive in this lifetime, or in any other lifetime, for that matter.”

“So, you just sit there, and let him beat the snot out of you?”

“Essentially, yes. It doesn’t hurt anymore, Laney. I’m a man now. Sure, it hurt when I was a kid, but you said so yourself, I tower over him. It’s like hitting a boxer with a feather now.”

“Do you ever wish he was dead? Do you ever envy those Ford boys, because their da is long gone?”

I look at her, half pissed that she’d even suggest such a thing, but half thinking about how I once did wish da would drop dead, and how that’s changed. As much as Dougall Harris is a son of a bitch, he’s taught me everything I know, and it’s thanks to him being hard on me, that I’m so resilient. Think about it. Am I freaking out about being questioned in a murder? No. Am I sitting in the corner, crying because my da asked me to do something, and Laney won’t do it? No. Of course, the list of impossible tasks and strife goes on for days, but I’ve seen it all through and lived to tell. And all that is because of my upbringing. It sounds monstrous to an outsider, sure, but if you’re on the inside, one can see the determination in da. You will never meet another man like him, with ironclad goals, a clear mindset, and an insurmountable ‘don’t fuck with me or my family’ persona that literally the whole world has grown aware of.

That’s my da.

All the same, I can’t stand the look in her eyes. Is it pity? Compassion? I’m not sure. But I’ve never seen anyone else ever look at me like that before. I know that Laney doesn’t understand my da, as I don’t understand hers, and I don’t expect to ever be able to explain him to her any further, without her truly knowing him. And as I’m trying to find the right words to set her mind at ease, I hear my phone beep, and I pull it out of my pants pocket to look at it. “Shit.” I say, as Laney looks over my shoulder at it, and strangely enough, I let her. Normally, I’m very territorial about my phone, even with my family. Even with my da.

“What’s wrong?”

It’s a message from someone that nobody else knows about. But since Laney isn’t someone in my family or in business with me, I figure it may be safe to tell her who it is. “I was at this conference in Scotland a few years ago, and outside the venue where it was being held, this young bairn and her mama were sitting outside, begging for money. The bairn was like a little cherub, with long, blonde little curls, big blue eyes, and little pink lips. Her mama had been kicked out of the house, because of her apparent drug addiction. I had gone outside to take a call, while my da and two of my brothers were trying to get some tail with some lasses they met inside the conference, so I helped the mama out.”

She’s looking at me, listening intently.

“Anyway, Gretchen, little Peg’s mama, she’s sober now and they live in a little cottage that I pay for. She’s got a job and she never bugs me unless she needs money. Well, she sends me photos of little Peg, and stuff like that, but when she needs something, she tells me, honestly, and I go see her and give her cash, so that way nobody knows about it.”

“You mean you’ve been doing this for years and your da doesn’t know about it?”

I shake my head no. “You’re the only person I’ve ever told. My da would murder me if he knew. That’s one thing about Dougall Harris; he’s not the charitable type. And if he knew that I was messing with a former drug dealer, he’d kill me.”

“And the spies don’t even know?”

“Far as I know, no. They just think I’m fucking her, but I’m not. Never have. Gretchen’s gay. Peg was the product of a rape.”

She grabs her stomach. “God, what a nightmare.”

I nod. “Aye. I couldn’t not help her, you know. It tore my heart out. And Gretchen’s a real honest lass, you know. She’d never hurt a soul. She couldn’t have an abortion, either. It was too painful for her. Her story really hit home.”