Page 119 of These White Lies
Ray holds his gaze. “Understood. I think, under the circumstances, I won’t tell Anna I’m bringing a plus one.” His eyes dart briefly to Brady, and I can tell he can’t help himself when he winks at me. “Sounds like we are going to have a memorable date, sweetheart.”
Brady surges to his feet, pulling me up with him, his hand locked around mine. “This isn’t a joke, Ray.”
Ray’s face is equally serious when he sets his glass down with a sharp crack on the coffee table and pushes to standing. “I know that, boy.”
Brady glares at him, and then without another word he practically drags me to the door.
“At least I’ll get to see my daughter at this party. She works with you, right?” Ray calls after us.
Brady moves so fast I barely register what is happening before Ray is slammed hard into the wall, and Brady is breathing fire into his face. The doors to the suite burst open, and Ray’s bodyguards are inside with their guns drawn.
An atomic bomb could detonate in the room, and I don’t think it would be enough to pull either man from the tense stare-down they are engaged in. Two similar faces, one etched with rage and the older version looking distinctly resigned.
Ray doesn’t make a move to defend himself or to remove Brady’s hands from where they have him pinned.
“Don’t you dare fucking speak to her,” Brady hisses, looking completely enraged.
“She’s still my daughter.”
“You gave up any right you had to call her that after what you did.”
Ray’s shoulders slump. “I know. I didn’t mean it the way it came out. I was trying to help.”
“Help?” Brady’s laugh is bitter, and with one last shove, he releases his father and steps back, his chest heaving. “She was traumatized. Healing not only from the attack but an excruciating surgery, and your only response was, ‘at least you’ve still got your brains.’”
Horror washes over me.Oh fuck.
“I was trying to make her feel better.”
Brady shook his head. “She was twenty-three, worrying about her future, and you poked at her biggest insecurity.”
His eyes heat, and I’m worried he’ll attack his father again. I place a hand on his bicep. The muscles underneath are trembling. This amazing, strong, brave man runs into dangerwithout hesitation, but his sister’s unhappiness brings him to his knees.
“Do you know that she almost never goes out in public anymore? And even when she goes out, she always covers herself in an inch of makeup and wears her hair down.
“She’s still a beautiful girl,” Ray protests, looking genuinely distressed.
“I don’t need you to tell me that!” Brady roars at him. “But she doesn’tbelieveit. She thinks she’s a monster. She would have been better off if you’d never come that day. Why did you? You never came for anything before? Not even Mom’s funeral.”
Oh god! This just keeps getting worse.
Ray exhales heavily and shoves his hands back through his hair in a move that is so reminiscent of his son it momentarily catches me off guard.
“I’m sorry. Honestly. I’m so fucking sorry.” His eyes go to me as if pleading with me to help. “I thought maybe… I wanted to come to Marianne’s funeral. You’ll never know how much… but I couldn’t.” His eyes implore his son to understand. “You know I couldn’t. Some pap or fan would have seen me and wanted to know why I was there. Then all those years I sacrificed being away from you and your sister would have been for nothing.”
The muscle in Brady’s jaw is fluttering frantically. “Sacrificed.” He shakes his head, but now, instead of furious, he only looks tired. “You didn’t make a sacrifice. You led the life you wanted to. Unencumbered by a family who might have made those late nights at the clubs and partying on the circuit difficult.”
“That’s not true.” But even Ray seems to hear the lack of conviction in his own voice. “Look. I was so fucking young when your mom got pregnant?—”
“When yougother pregnant.” Brady cuts him off. “There were two of you there. You were a year older than her.”
Ray nods slowly. “I know. But I was on the verge of my first semi-professional fight, and I wasn’t mature enough for that kind of commitment. I cared about Marianne, but?—”
“But you didn’t love her. I’m well aware. Even if she never could accept it.”
“I’m trying to do better now. I want to be here for you and your sister.”
Brady stares at him for a long moment and then sighs. “Well, then let’s hope this goes well. Because I promise you, if you don’t take care of Elizabeth at that party, I won’t just see you in hell. I’ll put you there.”
