His jaw tightened the way it always did right before he lost patience. I’d seen it a hundred times, and I knew an explosion was imminent. But then something shifted in his posture, and he appeared to age ten years in a few seconds. He walked to the window, faced the skyline, and spoke with his back to me.
“This isn’t just about your image anymore.” He paused, staring through the glass with a clenched jaw and a distant look that didn’t match the sharp confidence he’d walked in with. I stayed still, reading every inch of his back as he stared out the window, and I watched his reflection in the glass. Then he turned, and his eyes were steely.
“There are things buried in your past that can’t come out, Dominic. Things, that if they got out, would be career ending, forboth you and me.” I hated that he was right, but the way his eyes narrowed on me felt more like a threat than a friendly warning of what could go wrong.
I kept my expression still, refusing to let him see how close he’d come to hitting a nerve. Because the way he said it sounded like a trap. Or maybe he was baiting me for a reaction.
“Montauk,” he said, and my pulse slammed to a stop.
My chest locked up before I could speak, and for a long moment I stared at him, calculating whether he’d come here to threaten me or destroy us both. He knew what he was doing, naming that place, dragging it out of the dark. The air in the room seemed to thicken around me, threatening to suffocate me with every word we hadn’t spoken since that night.
“We said we’d never bring that up again,” I growled, now on the defensive.
“I didn’t,” he said. “You did. Then you dragged Savannah into this circus and let the cameras follow your every move. You have no idea what it might do to her future if she’s wrapped up in your mess when it all unravels.”
I stood so fast my chair almost tipped over. He really was threatening me. “There was no body,” I hissed, narrowing my eyes at him, and I recounted the very moment that car jumped and rocked. I’d been drinking; so had he, but we both decided he was way too far gone. I took the risk. Now he used it like a death warrant only he could sign.
“Exactly,” he snapped. “And you think it’ll stay that way forever? You think no one’s looking for whoever it was that vanished? I’ve kept the lid on it—kept it quiet for years because I believed you had enough sense not to light a fuse while standing in a pile of dynamite.” David stalked closer and leaned in, almost in my face.
Then he lowered his voice more before he spoke again. “But if you keep this up—if you don’t walk away—I will go public. I’llspin it how I need to in order to ensure it doesn’t blow back on me at all. Leak just enough…”
I let out a short, humorless laugh, because it was the only thing keeping me from putting my fist through the wall. He thought he could threaten me into submission, dangle that night in Montauk over my head like it was still some kind of leash. But what he didn’t understand was that I’d already paid for it. I paid for it in every sleepless night, in every woman I kept at arm’s length, in every time I looked in the mirror and saw the man I swore I wouldn’t become.
I met his gaze with the same detachment I’d honed over years of building walls no one could scale—and not caring if the rest of the world finds out. “You’d bury me to save your seat at the table.” Sliding my hands into my pockets coolly, I let my chest puff out a notch and relaxed my shoulders.
“To protect my daughter,” he said tightly.
“Bullshit. You’ve never protected her. You’re not doing this to shield her—you’re doing it to get ahead of it before someone else does. This isn’t about protecting Savannah. It’s about making sure when it all comes out, she hears your version first and the general public sees you as the victim and not the bad guy.” I was seething, hands fisted deep in my pockets where he couldn’t see them, but I willed myself not to show it on my face.
His eyes darkened to the color of the midnight sky. “You think she’ll forgive you when she finds out what you did?”
I stepped closer, shortening the space between us until he had no choice but to hold my gaze. His collar was stiff, and his shoulders locked back like he was trying to project strength, but the flush in his face had drained. His jaw clenched tighter with every second, and I watched his chest rise in uneven bursts, like his body was catching up to the weight of his words. He’d rehearsed this moment, but now that it was here, he was unraveling under it.
“She deserves the truth,” I said. “And I’m done pretending she’s better off without it.” Maybe the truth had to come out one way or another, and maybe I wasn’t quite ready for it, but David Bennett was not going to intimidate me into backing off on this PR campaign because of my past. Graham and I had some work to do to make sure this didn’t come out in a way that would destroy me, but it would be my job to make sure Savannah knew the real truth.
I wanted to stop and fix it back then. It was David who said to keep driving. I was an idiot to listen to him, and I’m an idiot now if I let him push me around.
He stared at me for a long beat. Then he turned for the door. “You’re reckless.”
“And you’re a coward,” I said after him.
His hand was on the doorknob when he paused. Over his shoulder with a very sharp voice he said, “She’ll hate you when she finds out what kind of man you really are.”
Then he was gone.
And I didn’t move.
Because part of me already knew he was right.
19
SAVANNAH
Cal clutched his book with both hands and stared up at me with wide, pleading eyes. “Just one more chapter? Please? The sea monster hasn’t even gotten to the ship yet.”
“Cal, we’ve already read three chapters,” I said, brushing his bangs off his forehead. “It’s way past bedtime.”
He shook his head stubbornly and pulled the covers tighter under his arms. “But I need to know if the crew makes it out. It’s important.”