Page 59 of Firethorne
He reached for the water again, took a sip and put it back down. I waited, eager to hear what else he had to say.
“I made enquiries about you at your university. They told me you were a first-class honours student, that they had high hopes for you. You were a deep thinker, a hard worker. They had nothing but praise for you. So, I put a plan in place to try to get you to stay there. Does The Earnshaw Scholarship ring any bells by any chance?”
I cast my mind back, and with a hesitant shrug, I answered, “Maybe. I’m not sure.”
It didn’t.
“I set up a fund. That fund was called The Earnshaw Scholarship.”
“You created a fund for the university?” I frowned, not understanding what he was saying.
“I created a fund...for you,” he replied. And I had to catch my breath for a moment, as memories came flooding back to me. “The fund would’ve covered all your expenses for the remainder of your course. Tuition fees, too. You could have stayed there, and it wouldn’t have cost you a penny. I’d have made sure you were safe there, Maya.”
I remembered my tutor telling me about a scholarship, he even gave me the papers. And like a fool, I threw them in the bin, thinking it was pointless.
“But you left the university without even applying for a money pot that had your name on it. You left before anyone could stop you.”
“I didn’t know—” I spoke up, but he butted in.
“You didn’t trust that something good could happen to you. I get it. Your father had fucked up his life, not yours. But you carried the burden of his betrayal. It wasn’t your wrong to put right.”
“He’s the only family I have,” I said by way of a feeble explanation, but he ignored me, carrying on with his story.
“So, I moved to my next plan. I had Trent follow you on the train down to Firethorne that night. He delivered the first message to warn you. We knew by this point you weren’t going to back out of anything, so we figured we’d prepare you.”
“Trust no one,” I said, recounting the first message I’d gotten that was thrown into my lap by the man on the train. The man who disappeared into thin air.
“Exactly,” Damien replied. “And you did well with that. You didn’t trust anyone...at first.”
“And so, you decided to leave me a dead fucking rat,” I added, spearing my gaze on him.
“I used the shock factor.” He shrugged. “It got the message across. They were all liars. Lysander was pouring God knows what kind of shit in your ear, and Miriam had her claws out, ready to sink them into you. Beresford was an asshole, so there’s no change there, and my father scared you. You tried to hide it, but I could tell. I think I did too, in a way. You held yourself well, but you were never going to win. Not against them. You’re too kind, too thoughtful. You were the perfect candidate for them to walk all over.”
“I’m not a fucking pushover,” I snapped.
“I never said you were. I said you were kind and thoughtful. There’s a difference.”
“Not to me there isn’t.” I took a breath then hissed, “And then you broke into our cabin like a fucking stalker, writing on the bathroom mirror and scaring us both half to death.”
He laughed at me then.
“Scaring youboth?Really?” He shook his head like he was mocking me. “Do you even remember what that message said, Maya?”
“Of course I do,” I barked. “It said ‘he’s the devil’.”
“And did you never stop to think who the devil was?”
“Your father, obviously.”
Damien’s head shot up, eyes blazing with fury as he hissed, “No, Maya. Notmyfucking father... YOURS!”
The adrenaline that hit me like a ten-tonne truck made my stomach swirl and my brain want to shut down.
I knew.
At the back of my mind, I knew things weren’t as rosy as I wanted to believe they were.
But I’d always hoped in my heart that it wasn’t true.
