Page 41 of Our Lips Are Sealed
“What the hell does that mean?”
Liam pushed down the resentment that always came. His father’s lifelong work had saved so many, yet nearly destroyed his own family. “They like to impress the Doc,” he replied. “That’s what they call him. As if he’s their friend.”
“You don’t cut up your friend’s wife.”
Six hours.
Rodney Mayhew, better known as the Red River Killer, had held his mother captive for six hours in the New York brownstone Liam had grown up in.
“I read about what happened when you first arrived at Haven House,” Samuel said after a long stretch of silence. “Your mom’s name is Bernadette?”
“Yeah, but she goes by Bernie. Why?”
“Call her that,” Samuel said with a shrug. “When you talk about what happened, call her Bernie so she’s not mom, but a woman who you can partially distance yourself from. The disassociation helps strengthen your voice, body placement, and all that. Then, when you’re discussing what happened with people, they’ll unconsciously read the signals and ask less questions.”
“Jesus, you have been in therapy.”
“Lots.”
Liam thought of his mother’s beautiful face and how she would carry the scars from the attack on it for the rest of her life. “Mayhew said Bernie would be his greatest masterpiece, and that he thought the Doc would appreciate the gift.”
“But your father got there in time.”
“He shot him.” Liam stabbed an index finger to his forehead, pulling the imaginary trigger. “Right here. My dad didn’t hesitate.”
“Did you expect him to do something different?”
“Dr. Cohen doesn’t believe in killing the animals. He’s not into rehabilitation or anything. He knows they’re all sacks of shit who can’t be helped,” Liam scoffed. “However, if he could put them in glass cages and create his own psychopathic menagerie, the man would be thrilled.”
“I take it you don’t feel the same way?”
“I work at the Bureau as a field agent for a reason, much to the disappointment of my dad.”
“All sons disappoint their fathers, Cohen.” Samuel hit the gas, rocketing them around a semi-truck. “You’re nothing special.”
“And they, in turn, disappoint us. I’m sure you told Ben the same thing during those therapy sessions.”
“No, I never told my dad he disappointed me. I said something worse. I told him I missed him,” Samuel said, keeping his eyes on the road. “Fairweather Holdings is what it is today because, since Laura Jean’s death, my father has destroyed himself, making it into this unbelievably profitable thing.”
Liam wasn’t surprised. Ben probably threw himself into the business as a distraction from the pain. “There are worse outcomes for men in his situation. And yeah, I’m nothing special for being a son who disappointed his father, but you’re nothing special for being a rich kid who misses their parents because they’re overworking themselves to provide you with a prosperous future.”
“When I said I missed him, I didn’t mean because he was overworking himself and not spending time with us,” Samuel replied, swerving as a wayward minivan lost on the interstate attempted to make them roadkill. “No, me being me, I was very specific. I told him I missed the man who existed when Laura Jean was alive, and that I would trade all of what he’d achieved to have that man back.”
Liam kept his face neutral, but inside, he was thinking the worst. “How did he respond?”
“He tried to kill himself a few days later.”
“Oh.”
As if losing Laura Jean wasn’t enough, the thought of losing his children was the push that sent Ben over the edge. Liam considered the ways a white collared male who loved his family would have done it. Something clean, with no connection to the nightmare they’d already lived through.
“Overdose?”
“I found him,” Samuel confirmed, his entire body going ridged. “I’ll tell you, that was hell. He was almost dead when the ambulance arrived. They took him to the hospital and the staff couldn’t get Selah and me to leave. For days we sat and stared at him, scared shitless that the fucking beeping on the monitor would stop.”
“That had to be awful.”
“It was, and it fueled a fear in me that I should never have allowed to take hold, because it cost me what I wanted most in life.”
