Page 77 of Endure the Pain

“They got in through Brody’s office. It’s the closest to where the staff park their cars and it has a window. They were in Stefan’s office for over an hour without anyone knowing because whenever anyone called into control with the radio, Blake claimed to be taking over for Josh. You should keep watching, though,” Jamie said and fast forwarded the video a little. Blake pulled out a piece of paper, unfolded it, and held it up to the camera. It read, “They have my kid. They’re going to kill me after this, but please save him.” On the very bottom of the paper was an address.

I pushed the computer away. “Were we able to save the child?”

“We found him tied up and alone at Blake’s condo, but it took a while. We didn’t know if it was a trap or not. That’s why we didn’t get to the hospital right away. As for Blake…his body was found down the street from the house. According to a witness, the people in the car with him made him pull over, shot him in the back of the head, and tossed his body out of the car before one of them hopped into the driver’s seat and took off. The cops came straight here after they figured out who he was and who he worked for. By that point, we had discovered what had happened. Jameson and I took off just before the cops showed up and shut down the manor, preventing anyone from leaving. They questioned Stefan and interviewed all the staff here. It took hours, which was also why he couldn’t get to you right away,” Louie explained.

Well, now I felt like an asshole for biting their heads off. “Fine, I’m a tiny bit sorry for being a bitch.” I looked to Stefan. He didn’t look good and was staring off into space. “That woman was with me when you called me,” I said.

Stefan’s eyes flicked to me. “I know. I heard her.” He threw back the last of the whiskey left in his tumbler.

“You know her,” I said as I studied him. I hadn’t seen him this unkempt since I’d been raped. “I guess that explains how she knew my name because I didn’t tell her.”

Stefan plopped his empty tumbler on the table and the sound of it clanking on the wooden surface echoed in the room. He looked at Jamie and Louie. “Leave us.”

Jamie and Louie stood and left the room. Stefan put his elbows on the table and ran his fingers through his hair again. “I’m really surprised you haven’t figured it out,” he grumbled, locking his eyes with mine.

“I took you to see a therapist once when you were nine. They said that you had traumatic suppressed memories. I was relieved and saw it as another chance for us to move on again. Then you told me about your nightmares, and I knew that I’d eventually have to tell you the truth. I was hoping it wouldn’t be so soon because once I tell you the truth, I’m going to lose you.”

I stood only to sit in Jamie’s chair, so I could be closer. I grabbed his hand, to offer comfort to him and myself because I had a ball of dread rolling around in the pit of my stomach. “Daddy, you’re rambling.”

He squeezed my hand. “Everything I’ve done has been to protect you.”

“Just spit it out,” I snapped.

“Your dreams aren’t nightmares, they're suppressed memories. That’s why they feel so real and make you cry.”

I let go of his hand. “You said she died in a car crash when I was six weeks old.”

He nodded. “Would you believe me if I told you I lied to protect you from the truth?”

“That depends on what the truth is.”

“Your mother was addicted to cocaine, no thanks to my brother and father who bribed her with it so she would spread her legs for them,” he said angrily. I was horrified and I had no doubt that it showed. “I shouldn’t have told you that.” He sighed frustratedly. “Your mother never wanted you. All she cared about was her next fix. When we found out she was pregnant, I thought I had a chance to save my wife from spiraling or possibly overdosing one day. I thought you would be the saving grace she needed to get over her addiction and she would realize that too once she was sober.

“I checked her into a facility to help her detox and stay clean for the duration of her pregnancy. She hated me for it and never saw that I was trying to help her. She never wanted to get better, or so she told me, repeatedly. I tried to visit her every day and took her to every doctor’s appointment. After she gave birth to you, she didn’t want to have anything to do with you. She wouldn’t hold you and would get hysterical every time you cried.

“When she came back to the manor, I had her things moved into a separate room and kept you in mine, away from her. In less than twenty-four hours, she was high again. I’d given up on helping her stay clean at that point and focused on taking care of you instead. She didn’t like that. She turned belligerent, like a spoiled child not getting the attention they wanted, and voiced how she wished you never existed. I didn’t think she would act on her jealousies, but I was wrong. When you were around two weeks old, I came home to find your nanny’s throat slit and your mother in the bathroom with you. She said she wanted to give you a bath. The tub was almost filled to the brim, you were fully clothed, and I walked in just as she dunked you all the way under the water. I snapped. For the first time in my life, I raised a hand against my wife. I hit her hard enough to render her unconscious. I was angry enough at what she intended to do to youthat I broke my promise to my mother to never harm a woman I cared about. Like my father repeatedly did to her and my sister.

“To punish her, I checked her back into the medical facility for another month and didn’t visit. I’d hoped it would show her the lengths I’d take to protect you and she’d realize what she had done was wrong. It didn’t. She returned home when you were six weeks old and, somehow, she snuck out of the house with you in the middle of the night. She tracked down a dealer and offered you up as payment for drugs. The dealer knew who she was, because in the time she had spent in the facility, I had put word out that if anyone sold to her, I’d kill them. Despite my threat, he sold the cocaine to her and brought you back to me, explaining what had transpired. She didn’t return to the house for three days and when she did, she acted like you never even existed. I played along with her because in those three days I’d come up with the best solution for us. I didn’t want to kill my wife, but I couldn’t trust her to be near you.

“I asked her for a divorce. I offered her a million dollars to sign the papers right then and there, and then to leave. I told her I didn’t care where she went, so long as she didn’t return. And if she did, I would kill her. She refused me at first, but as soon as I asked where you were,she lied poorly, saying you were at a playdate. I played along again and asked for the address, so I could go pick you up. She rambled off a random address as she quickly signed the divorce papers, then grabbed the money and took off.”

“But she came back,” I mumbled.

He nodded. “Twice. The first time, you were four, and she tried to snatch you at a park. While I was at work, Brody had taken you to the playground there to play. You were playing in the sand and had asked him for juice. He turned away from you to retrieve it from the lunch he’d packed, not thinking there was any risk, especially with our security nearby. In the seconds it took him to grab the juice and turn back around, she had scooped you up and run. Brody tackled her to the ground before she could get away and our security took over. That was the last time you were ever allowed to go to the park.”

I slumped back in my chair, shocked.

“I had every intention of killing her, but as soon as I saw her again, I couldn’t. She begged me not to and my guilt ate at my resolve. I had failed her as her friend, her husband, and she was still your mother. I asked her what it would take to make her disappear. She told me three million. I paid her, even though I knew deep down I should have just killed her.

“She returned again when you were almost nine. She didn’t attempt to kidnap you, but went about taking you in a different way. She showed up in the middle of the night with a lawyer, or so she claimed. She said she was taking you, that you were her daughter and she had rights to you. I invited her and herlawyerto my study to talk. I decided to play along with her ruse and listened to her go on and on about how she wanted to be in your life, she was clean, and that she wanted to take you back to Ireland to live with her. Little did she know that she had signed away her rights when she'd signed the divorce papers. And I had been keeping tabs on her since the last time she'd tried to take you. She had gotten mixed up with one of the Mexican cartels. She and her new boyfriend, who was pretending to be her lawyer, blew all the money I paid her and still ended up owing money to the cartel. She didn’t want to be in your life. She came to use you to get more money out of me.

“I refused her. The boyfriend pulled a gun on me and told your mother to go find you. I already had a gun in my hand, hidden behind my desk. He made the mistake of looking at your mother and I took that opportunity to shoot him. He bled out on my floor while she sobbed pathetically over his corpse. That was when you showed up. Seeing you there put me in a rage because all the time,money, and energy I’d spent in protecting you from the burden and pain that was your mother had all been for naught. I had failed you.

“I didn’t want her to hurt you and knew she’d try to sink her claws into you as soon as she saw you. So I had to show her that you were mine and that she would never be able to use you against me. Like in your dream, I did pull you into the room. Her hair wasn’t dyed black, though, and you knew who she was immediately. But you didn’t shoot her, Maura, I did. I gave you the gun and I did ask you to choose between us. You chose me, but you were shaking so much the bullet missed your mother when you fired the gun. But you pulling that trigger served its purpose and showed her that she’d never be able to sway you against me. I took the gun from you and shot her in the chest. I had our security dump her at the hospital. It was my last show of mercy because I was done caring whether she lived or died. I got a message to the cartel she owed money to and told them where they could find her if she lived. I called the hospital the next day and found out that she had survived, but had disappeared less than an hour prior. I assumed the cartel had gotten ahold of her because she disappeared without a trace.”

I was at a loss for words. Stefan stared absently at the table and I could see the shame in his eyes. I grabbed his hand again and squeezed it. It hurt that he had lied to me. At the same time, I knew telling me had been really hard for him and hearing about the lengths he'd taken to protect me from her and the pain of knowing her, even if I ended up hating him, showed me how much I meant to him. Maybe actions really did speak louder than words. I ached to hear him say that he loved me, but if actions were all that he could give me, then maybe I could accept that.

“I wish you had been honest with me about her, but I understand why you weren't, strangely. I have a feeling it’s because I’m about to become a mother,” I said, then released his hand. “It’s extremely fucked up that you tried to make me shoot her. I was eight and I don’t know how or if I can forgive you for that.” I stood from my chair. “I’m tired and I don’t want to know anymore tonight. We’ll finish talking about this tomorrow.”