Page 147 of Burning Daylight
The truth is staring me in the face.
I think about how cagey Paxton has been on the phone with me and how ever since I got back, I’ve barely seen him at all. I think about how Lance has been lurking around bars in the HillPoint and implying I should stay out of town. I think about how my father claims to love me but is letting my mother use me as a tool by linking me up with Preston, simply because it puts another powerful player in their pocket. How he tried tomurderinnocent children to further his agenda; whatever the hell that even is.
My eyes track Beverly back and forth as she flits from spot to spot.
“Bevie,” I call out.
My voice is sharper than I intended, but it makes her pause, peeking around the corner from my large walk-in closet and peering at me.
“What do you know about the Montgomerys?” I ask.
Her face grows serious, and she places down the clothes she was in the middle of hanging up on a nearby chair and moves to where I’m sitting, her face anything but calm. “The same as anyone else, I’d assume, child.”
“I’m not a child,” I snap. “Despite all of you constantly treating me like I am one.”
Her face blanches, and she smooths down the nonexistent wrinkles in her shirt before staring at me for a few long moments.
“All I know is that after Marcus’s wife died, he…well, he was grieving for a time, I guess. Your father took advantage.”
My spine stiffens. “Took advantage how?”
“There were rumors he took over some of the dealings in the HillPoint, and that Marcus either doesn’t know about it or doesn’t care.”
Surprised, I lean back. “Bevie, is my father the villain here? Is he really as bad as those spray paintings imply?”
Everyone knows they’re about him. Aboutus. There have been people protesting outside of Calloway Enterprises, demanding transparency. The number grows every time Roman paints something new.
Her cheeks pale. “Lord if I know, Juliette. Why does it matter? Would it make you love him any less?”
“It doesn’t matter, I guess.” I’m not sure if that’s true.
“Everyone’s a bad person to someone. You just have to figure out whatyou’rewilling to accept.”
“What if the people I’ve been told to hate are the ones I want to love the most?”
Roman flashes in my mind again, and I choke on the thought of having to defend him to Tyler. Toanyone, really. If they cared about me, wouldn’t they just want me to be happy? If Felicity were here right now, she’d tell me to get my shit together and come to live with her. To say fuck you to the people who would put conditions on how I’m supposed to live.
And maybe she’d have a point.
Beverly watches me closely and then glances behind her at my closed bedroom door before sitting on the chaise next to me. “Did you know your balcony has cameras?”
“What?”
Panic infuses every nerve when she says it, my mind flipping through all the times over the years I’ve done things I shouldn’t have. When I’ve snuck out with Lance and Tyler—or more recently, when Roman climbed over the railing.
“Beverly…”
She presses her lips together. “Unfortunately, shortly after you came back from college, they stopped working. Nobody has had the time to fix them yet.” She hums, swiping her hands along one of my shirts that’s in her lap, smoothing over the fabric. “Peculiar, don’t you think?”
My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, and I speak even though it suddenly feels like my vocal cords are scratching on sandpaper. “Thank you,” I whisper.
She reaches out, pats my hand, and lowers her voice. “I’d watch out for your phone, too. Never know who might be able to tap in and see things.”
I swallow and nod.
“Do you hate Marcus like my father does?” I ask.
“Seems silly to hate a dead man.”
