Page 109 of The Weight Of Falling

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He bows his head. “I read once that nobody is only a hero or only a villain, that we have it in us to be both. But I don’t believe that about Roy Bellings.”

I notice Joel is careful never to call himfather, onlyRoy Bellings. I don’t blame him.

“No matter how hard I looked,” he continues, “I couldn’t find a single heroic thing in him.” His hands clench and unclench. “Even keeping me alive wasn’t a kindness. He liked having someone small to pick on.” His voice catches. “Not once did he ever tell me he loved me. But he used to say, ‘We’re blood. The only thing that matters is blood.’”

Tears blur my eyes. I’m filled with a mix of fury and fear. Fury for the boy who only wanted his father’s love. And fear that Joel will believe the words of a father who never loved him over the woman who loves him with all her heart.

“You do not live in his shadow,” I say urgently. “You’ve stepped out of it a long time ago. The only shadow left is the one in your mind.”

Joel closes his eyes, like he needs to get himself together. “That’s not the end of it,” he says bleakly. “It gets worse.”

45

Ice creeps down my spine. Worse? How could it possibly get any worse than this?

“The women he killed,” Joel continues. “He had a type. Blonde. Delicate. Beautiful.” His voice is flat, emotionless. But I know better. He’s so full of emotion, he can’t let it out. “He made their last days on earth absolute hell.” And then he says the words that match the haunted look in his eyes. “You look like them. The women he killed.”

My stomach heaves in horror. “Is that why you kept your distance from me?”

He holds my gaze. “It’s one of the reasons.”

“I thought you didn’t like me,” I whisper. “That you weren’t attracted to me.”

He lets out a harsh laugh. “I was attracted to you from the first second I saw you. That’s why I stayed away. That’s why I told Kate no when she tried to set us up. You were everything I couldn’t risk.”

It hurts just to look at him. I don’t have words comforting enough for what he’s lived through. I don’t have a measure for the pain he carries. All I can do is hold his gaze and let him see that I’m here.

“There’s another reason I stayed away from you,” he says after a long, uneven breath. “In Roy’s eyes, I did the unforgivable. I turned on family. He swore that because I betrayed him, he’d pay me back. If he can’t have his freedom, then I don’t get a life either.”

I stare at him in horror. “How do you know this?”

“A couple of years after the sentencing, I got a letter,” he answers, his voice low. “It basically said,You took what I loved most, my freedom. Now I’ll take everything you love.”

Cold seeps through me, right down to my core. Joel was right. It does get worse. “But he’s in prison,” I manage. “How can he still hurt you from there?”

“That’s what I thought,” he says bitterly. “But you’d be surprised what you can do from inside. It turns out, serial killers have fans. Whole communities dedicated to them, where they’re treated as aspirational figures.” He grimaces. “A lot of the fans are women, but some are men. And then there are the copycats. They want what Roy had—the power, the attention, the feeling of being feared. He knows exactly how to manipulate them. And because the world has enough evil in it, he’ll never run out of willing hands.”

My breath rises and falls too fast. I can’t comprehend this world. I don’t want to. I’m suddenly grateful for how sheltered I’ve been, and so unspeakably sad that Joel wasn’t.

“How does Roy communicate with them if he’s locked up?” I ask. “Aren’t letters checked?”

“They are. Or they’re supposed to be. But he somehow seems to find a way around the system. I suspect he uses other inmates with less stringent jail conditions to receive and pass on messages.”

“Have you gone to the authorities?”

He nods. “More times than I can count. But he’s clever. He covers his tracks.” His jaw tightens. “Now they think I’m paranoid. That I’m obsessed with my father and seeing patterns that aren’t there.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper again, the words nowhere near enough.

“I learned the hard way not to love anything,” Joel says, staring at his hands. “Not to let anyone get close. Anything I care about, he’s determined to take from me. Friends ended up inaccidents. Girlfriends too.”

Suddenly I remember Joel’s dog, the way his face changed when he mentioned him.

“What happened to your golden retriever.”

“Flash.” He swallows. “He had him killed.” His throat works. “He knew how much I loved him.”

My chest seizes so hard my ribs ache. “Oh, Joel.” I swipe at the tears in my eyes. After a moment, I ask, “How do you know it was your father?”