26

MARGO

Sitting in the passenger seat as Slade drove, I gave myself a mental talking to. Seth was the last person I wanted to see, but he’d clear things up. He’d confirm that he was my actual dad, and then these three would give it a rest. And then I could go home.

Except it wasn’t that simple. Nothing was these days.

That conversation I would have with my father? It would the first in my adult life. I hadn’t seen that bastard in eighteen years. Ever since he dumped my mother and me, he pretended we didn’t even exist. Even if he wasn’t my real father, he’d been married to my mom. That had made me his stepdaughter, kind of. Would it have killed him to stick around?

But to Seth, I was apparently a big, fat zero. Something meaningless. Worthless. A nuisance of some sort. Someone he walked out on when she needed him the most.

During that long drive to Queens, I considered discussing all of this with Slade. He wasn’t always in full-on seduction mode. Sometimes he actually seemed to listen and be an understanding guy.

Still, I hadn’t forgiven any of them for the kidnapping last night. Plus, I didn’t trust them. Okay, so I believed that they wanted to keep me safe, but that wasn’t the same as trusting them.

The only one I could count on was myself, so I kept my thoughts to myself. Besides, he’s spent almost all of his childhood in group homes and with foster families. He’d likely never known what it was like to be held by an adult who loved you more than life itself. He never saw a parent walk in the door, smiling, happy to see her child after a hard day’s work.

At least I’d had my mother growing up. It would have been a lot better to have my father around, too, but Slade hadn’t had either parent. Despite his flaws, that hurt my heart, and I was hesitant to talk too much about my childhood when it had clearly been less traumatic than his.

Much later, he pulled up outside of the address he had for Seth. My hands shook so I clasped them in my lap as I looked at the modest, single-family home. A touch made me look down. Slade placed his large hand over mine and squeezed.

The warmth in his gaze offered me a tiny amount of courage. I didn’t tell him, but it was somehow what I needed to get my butt out of his car.

At first glance, Seth seemed to have done well for himself. The house wasn’t new, but it wasn’t in bad shape. There was a blue, pickup truck parked upfront and a white Toyota.

“You’ve got this,” Slade said as we approached the house.

“Jesus…” I whispered, running my fingers through my hair. “I haven’t seen him in almost twenty years. I don’t even know where to start.”

“You had hours to brainstorm that with me on the way over,” Slade pointed out, but not meanly. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because I knew I’d get emotional,” I attempted an explanation. It wasn’t a good one, judging by his frown. “I’m sorry.”

“It won’t be easy, but won’t it be better to know where things stand? Be strong, Margo.”

“I’ll try,” I promised.

That was easier said than done.

I sucked in a deep breath and headed toward the front door, but the sound of running water made me realize I didn’t have to knock. A man emerged from the side of the house carrying a hose.

Slade stepped in front of me like a bodyguard. “Seth Harper?”

The man flinched slightly while I stared at him, looking for something I remembered.

“Yes?” he said. Well into his sixties, he was actually in pretty decent shape. He had a pair of faded jeans on and a black t-shirt, white hair gracing his head. Beyond him, a sprinkler was watering a rather narrow patch of lawn.

I moved to Slade’s side. “Hi, Seth.” My voice shook.

“Morning, miss.” He let the water from the hose pour onto the ground as he looked at me. “May I help you?”

“Take a good, hard look at me,” I demanded, coming to halt just five feet from me. “Then, you’ll understand if you can help me or not.”

“I’m sorry, I—” He stared at me, his face turning white. “Margo?”

I nodded.

“Jesus, you look like your mother. Not the coloring, but your face, your eyes… Jesus. What are you doing here?”

“Surprised to see me?” I asked. “Clearly you didn’t think that would happen when you ran off.”

“You were a child,” he said, color rising in his cheeks. “You have no idea what was going on.”

“I know you left,” I said.

“With good reason,” he said, still angry. “Look, Margo, I know you were just a kid, but you had no fucking clue—”

Slade took a menacing step forward. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Seth asked.

“A friend,” I said quickly, placing my hand on Slade’s chest to stop him. “Let me handle this,” I pleaded.

Then I turned back to the man I was increasingly sure wasn’t my actual father. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“He’s one of them,” he spat out, eyeing Slade.

“One of who?”

“You know what I mean.” Seth’s attention returned to me. “I may not know who he works for, but I know the attitude. I’ve seen this shit before. Did you bring him here to scare me or beat me up?”

“I’d be glad to do either,” Slade said, anger darkening his gaze. “So, I suggest you start talking before I lose my temper.”

“What do you mean, you know the attitude?” I asked, hoping Slade would behave himself.

“The whole wise guy attitude,” he emphasized, bringing his gaze back to me. “I thought I’d never see it again, but here you are. Your mom wanted you to stay away from guys like him. I’m very disappointed in you, Margo.”

“Disappointment from the man who abandoned us,” I said in a voice full of sarcasm, but his words had hurt. From the tension in Slade’s body, he knew it, too.

“I didn’t abandon you.“ He shook his head. “They made me leave. When I met your mother, she was working at a restaurant in lower Manhattan. She was already pregnant with you. I didn’t mind—I was too infatuated with her, I guess. We got married, and you were born. Things were normal for a while. We didn’t have a lot, but we were happy enough for four years. Then one night, some mafioso and his henchmen dropped by the shoe store I managed. He said he was the father of Sheila’s child. I didn’t buy it—she’d fed me some bull about how the man who’d impregnated her had been killed in a car accident. But then he showed me pictures. She was in a maid’s uniform at his house—he was there in the background. And I… I believed him.”

Slade nodded. “So then what happened?”

“He told me to leave Sheila alone. That I’d be in a world of pain if I didn’t. And then he let some of his men prove it to me.” Unconsciously, he touched an old scar on his cheek.

“Why didn’t my mother tell me any of this?” Slade put his arm around me.

“She didn’t know why I left. I’m not proud of it, but I just told her it wasn’t working out and took off.”

“Just like that?” There was an edge to Slade’s voice.

Seth looked down at the grass. “As I said, I’m not proud of it.”

“She could’ve told me you weren’t my biological father, though. That might have made it a little easier.” Possibly. But it still would have been crushing. And possibly more than a four-year-old could face. But she’d had decades after that to tell me the truth.

“She was probably just trying to protect you,” Slade said.

Seth took a step closer, but one look from Slade had him backing off. “So you took off and a woman and her young child all alone,” he snapped.

“A woman who whose child was from another man,” Seth said quietly. Then he sighed. “Those guys scared me, okay? I’d never encountered anyone like them. I told myself that it wasn’t worth my life.”

The tears flowed harder. Would Seth have stayed, if my real father hadn’t threatened him? It would’ve made all the difference in the world to my mother. To have someone help with the childcare after those first few years. To have two incomes. To have some support.

“I’m sorry, Margo,” Seth said.

Slade squeezed my shoulders, steadying me. “Let’s get out of here, sweetheart.”

I looked at Seth, but I couldn’t think of what to say. In a way, he’d been a victim, too. A victim of the awful world that Rocello, Jumaine, Slade, and apparently my biological father had inhabited. But the pain was too much. I was dealing with too many of my own feelings to focus on Seth’s.

The best I could give him was a nod. He gave me a small smile in return. Then I let out a sniffle and walked away. As much as I wished I could say more to him, the person I really wanted to speak to was my mother.

She’d lied to me, and she’d lied to him—or at least she never warned him about the dangerous world my biological father inhabited. And she had to have known. She cleaned his house after all. A shiver ran through me. Had she ever washed blood—his or someone else’s—out of his clothes?

Seth had left us, just like she said. But now I knew that he had a reason. He’d done it in order to protect himself. Apparently, he hadn’t cared who would protect us.

I couldn’t stop crying once I was back in the car. Not even Slade’s hand, reassuringly patting my leg, helped.