Page 52 of Winter's End
I reached to shake his hand out of habit. “Do you have five minutes to chat? It’s about Winter.”
I was about to overstep here in a way I’d never overstepped before, and Kellan and the boys, hell, probably even Winter was going to kick my ass, but we needed real answers, and I was tired of living my life with this anvil hanging over my head.
“What’s this about Winter?” Darren questioned as he settled into a large office chair at the head of an intimidating board room table.
Nervous energy rocketed through me as I threw myself off the cliff.
“First of all, I love your daughter, which is why I’m coming to you like this.”
Darren nodded, the unsettled look still all over his face.
I had to be careful here—Kellan had made it clear they were monitoring WAQ, so I couldn’t risk hidden microphones catching anything they shouldn’t.
What a weird life I was living.
“Winter knows that you grew up in Cascade Falls. We were going through old yearbooks recently, and we saw the picture of the Shambala Society. Mom was in the picture, so I asked her what it was about. She told us about your friend group, and how you were in foster care and usually crashed at Emmett’s place.”
The words came out in a rush, but I managed to say them all without given away anything else incriminating.
Darren’s face molded into a mask of calm, the confusion melting away into a carefully crafted neutral expression. What I wouldn’t give to hide myself from the world like that.
“The reason I’m telling you this is that Winter is really hurt and is struggling to come to you herself. I’m definitely overstepping here; I’m going to have to meet the consequences for that later, but for the sake of your relationship with your daughter, I think you should talk to her about it.”
“I see.”
Gone was the friendly man who had made us supper in his home, replaced by the stoic presence of a protective father. His sharp eyes, almost identical to the woman I loved, assessed me critically as he leaned back in the imposing chair.
Good; Winter’s weird, dissociative relationship with her parents made it impossible to predict how Darren would react to my random ambush, but I was pleased that he was showing some sort of fatherly care.
Might as well push the envelope even further.
“Did you know Carson Baker is back in town?”
Darren’s eyebrows shot up. Apparently not.
I didn’t remember seeing Carson or Wyatt at the wedding, but that meant nothing. With hundreds of people there and my focus mostly on our own group, I could have missed their presence easily.
“It’s bringing up a lot for Winter, and she’s having to work through it all over again. We know about your history with Wyatt, and that’s probably a good conversation to have with her, too.”
I was bluffing here. Other than Logan’s cryptic comment and a newspaper clipping about a scholarship, I had no idea what Darren’s history was. But since I was a gambling man today, I might as well go all in on red.
Darren leaned over in his chair and scrubbed his palms over his jaw, his usually bright and youthful face looking far older in the time we’d been talking.
Well, I’d been talking.
He straightened suddenly, stood from the chair, and stuck out his hand.
“Thanks for dropping by, Drew. I’m afraid that’s all the time I have for today.”
I shook his hand, searching his eyes for any sign of resolution, but found nothing but a cool, emotionless blue.
“Thank you–sir.” I tacked on the respect, hoping my attempt would soften the blow of my unannounced semi-demanding visit.
I left the building dutifully dismissed, but with a lightness I hadn’t felt in weeks. I knew Darren loved his daughter; it wouldn’t give us all the answers, but maybe enough to find a few more leads elsewhere.
It was a risk, but I could only hope it would pay off. Could we fall much farther down the rabbit hole than we already were?
I didn’t actually want to know the answer to that question.
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