Page 78 of Where He Ended

- Epilogue -

Dominic

Watching my fatherbeing marched through a crowd of news crews with flashing cameras is surreal. I was sure he could never look worse than he already did. But six months of investigations and trials have shrunken away the last of the flesh from his cheekbones and jaw line.

But it's the difference in his eyes that really hits me.

There's no shine to them. Not a flicker of light can reach his dark pupils. They sit inside his cavernous eye sockets like two crabs hiding in the shadows, cold and unfeeling. He was never a kind man, but his eyes had a powerful way to them. They froze me on the spot so often while growing up.

For them to become so hollow, so defeated . . .

It tells me that he's truly lost everything. I know it before the newspapers begin printing the headlines.

“Bradley Banks Shut Down”, proclaims one. Another has tried to coin the phrase “Broke Bradleys”. It all means the same thing, though - the company is gone. My father's empire has fallen.

Staring at my phone, I scroll through the live chat comments. People are rejoicing in my father's arrest for fraud, among other things. Everyone loves watching the big fish get fried. I should be happy, too. And I want to be, but the top feeling I reach is justrelief.

There was a chance he would try to drag me down with him. Even with Joseph's intel, the FBI did its own research. My biggest safety net was how little regard anyone in my family or the company had for me. I was never on the payroll. I spent my time working in secret with Joseph.

There were no obvious strings to tie me to the downfall of the banks, or any of the back end programming or hacking. I'm getting away clean, and my father is going to be in prison for a long time.

The same goes for most of the top level shareholders; men who didn't know exactly how my father was taking over and creating his success, but who knew enough to know it was illegal as hell. Twelve men in total ended up with federal crimes, fraud charges, and more.

Scrolling deeper, I glance at the similar articles being pushed at me on the sidebar of the website. There's an interview with Franklin that makes my skin crawl. I grip my phone harder as I scan that one—sounds like he's claiming he always suspected my father's company was a big scam.

I notice how worked up I'm getting just seeing that man's face. Quickly, I slide my browser so the article vanishes. I'm greeted with new faces that don't make me feel any better. Miles and my uncle, Vahn, stare at me in their mug shots. Kidnapping and a murder plot have given them an even bigger spotlight than my father.

“Dominic?”

Shoving my phone in my pocket, I turn to find Kara standing behind me. The sun is high in the sky thanks to June's oppressive presence. It's why I moved to stand in the shade of the trees; it's the only spot where I can watch the men working on the cabin, while also preventing enough glare so I can browse on my phone.

She rocks side to side, one hand tracing her opposite arm. “Can we talk?” she asks.

I stand taller when I hear her question. I've been around her multiple times since she was reunited with her family. In spite of that, she's maintained the same aloof attitude in my presence. This is the first time she's cornered me alone since . . . well, since she warned me to keep away from Laiken. I cast a look at the men on the roof. They'll be fine without me watching to make sure they put all the solar panels in correctly. “Yeah, let's go for a walk.”

Kara twirls away, marching toward the distant bridge. I expect her to stop there, but she walks down the sloping grass, bringing us to the river. Her hands are folded behind her back, her fingers rubbing together. “Did you know that when Laiken was five, she fell in the water here?”

My lungs shrivel at the very mention of Laiken being in danger. The memory of performing CPR on her is still very fresh. “No. I didn't know that.”

“She always wanted to do what I did. I wasn't much bigger than her, but I was just the right amount of taller that I could make the jumps between the rocks that she couldn't.” Kara looks down the river, her mouth fading to a thin frown. “She nearly died. She would have, if I wasn't there to pull her out.”

“Thank you,” I say, meaning every word.

She turns her head so she can consider me. “I should be thanking you. I lived the fear of losing my little sister. I swore I'd never let anything happen to her again, and then when the time came to stand up and keep my word, I broke down. I let her offer herself up to your family. I owe her an apology, and I owe you one, too.”

She turns fully; I can tell it's a struggle for her to meet my eyes. “You don't,” I say quickly.

“Of course I do. Dominic, the things I thought about you—the things I said about you! I was sure you were some kind of terrible sociopath. So set that I didn't take the time to look inside myself and ask why Bernard's deathhadto be your fault.”

“Kara . . .”

“Please, let me finish.” Her mouth is set in a determined line. But I can see tears welling over her blue irises, making the color darker. “Suicide. When Laiken told me, it made a terrible kind of sense. It was easier for me to imagine you shoving him over a cliff, than to think he'd rather die than live in a world where I existed.”

“Kara, no. He loved you.”

“I know he did.” The tears spill over; she sniffs. “That's what makes it hurt so much. I knew he loved me, and it still wasn't enough.”

For a second she reminds me too much of Laiken. That's what makes me act, but once I grab her in a firm hug, it's our old friendship that keeps me holding her close. “You can't think like that.” A ripple of pain rocks my muscles, making me crush her harder. She gives a small sob. “I punished myself for years because I was sure of the same thing. That if I'd been a better friend, if he'd actually cared about me he wouldn't have killed himself. But it was never about that. He ended it because he thought we were all better off without him.”

---