Page 95 of One Little Lie
“I isn’t a baby, Uncle Ash. I’ll help ya.” Happiness radiates off Sadie like lightning.
He glances back and forth between Sadie and our mom. He knows he can’t say no, so he sets his jaw. But I see the subtle nod of his head. A silent thank you for not allowing our mother to witness his meltdown.
“Good. Now that that’s settled … Sadie, dear, why don’t you hop down and start collecting the rocks you need for your pets?”
Ash and I watch on, thoroughly confused.
“We’re gonna make a pet garden, Uncle Ash. I gots paints and everything.” She wiggles out of his arms, and he lowers her to the ground.
“Don’t go near the dumpster, and stay on this side of the trailer. There might be nails and stuff over by the construction site,” he says softly.
I raise my brow. “And you don’t know how to babysit?”
“I don’t want her to get hurt,” he grumbles softly. His voice is still weak but not quite as raspy today. I hope that’s a good sign.
Sadie grabs a basket I hadn’t noticed my mother holding and runs to the dirt pile to start digging. It’s funny to see all the pink tulle of her dress bouncing around in the dirt.
“Now,” my mother says in a tone that has my hackles rising, “we need to talk.”
Ash and I exchange a glance that says ‘oh shit.’
“Ashton. What have you done?” she asks without preamble.
“What I needed to.”
I bite my tongue, but I know that answer isn’t going to fly.
“You’re not your father, Ash. This doesn’t have to be your fight. It should never have been your fight. Envision was supposed to go to Ryan, and everything else dismantled if anything ever happened to your father. I may not have known the details of his day-to-day, but I do know there was a plan in place should anything ever happen to him.”
“There was.”
Staring at my baby brother, I realize it’s like I don’t even know him. How many secrets can he possibly keep? My mother must realize Ash has no intention of expanding on his answer because she tries another tactic.
“What could Pacen have given you that sent you into such a tailspin?” She nods toward the dumpster. I should have known better. Nothing gets past my mother.
“Everything I need to bring her father down. Proof of all his crimes, corruption, everything from when he first contacted Dad to when he tried to steal GG’s mountain. She found proof of it all and gave it to me.”
“No shit,” I grumble. “So, you can stop him?”
Ashton’s jaw tightens. “Eventually. I can cut off his attempts at the mountain by bringing in Fontaine, the town accountant, but I need to follow Macomb for a while. I need more information on …” He breaks off on a cough. “I will take him down. Just not yet.”
Our mother stands between us, and I don’t dare say a word.
“Ashton, you know Daddy’s death was not your fault,” she says with an air of authority he doesn’t question. “You also need to know that you are not responsible for keeping this family safe. You are not our protector. Whatever secrets you’re keeping from us, and I have a feeling there are many, they aren’t yours to carry.”
She turns to me, and my neck gets hot.
“Honestly, how could you have both blamed yourselves for Daddy’s death for all these years, and I never knew? Am I that blind to your needs?” A single tear falls from her left eye. Ash and I both step forward on instinct.
“No. That’s not it at all,” we both promise.
“He was just like you both. You know that, right? He never kept a secret in our marriage. I wouldn’t have allowed it. But his work was another story. If he thought he had to protect us, he would do whatever he needed to. Even if it hurt him in the process. Please don’t hurt yourselves on our behalf. Let us in. Let us help.”
My throat is uncomfortably tight, and I have to work multiple times to swallow.
“Your dad thought he was Bruce Wayne sometimes, but he was never Batman. Remember that, Ash.”
Ash and I stare at her like she has three heads, but where I’m thoroughly confused, Ash seems taken aback. When he nods, I realize there is so much more to Envision than he’s letting on. I also realize until he’s ready to talk, he’ll be a brick fucking wall.
