“You don’t realize the power he holds, Sabrina,” he says, talking to me as if I’m a child who can’t possibly understand. “I don’t know what you think you’re going to do to Alan Montgomery, but it won’t work. There’s a reason he’s the man people go to when they’re desperate. He wields more power than anyone else in Hawthorne. He could destroy me. He could destroy you.”
Believe me, asshole, I know.
I’m about to give him examples of all the ways I’ve seen Alan flex his power, but my mother interjects before I can even open my mouth.
“You’ll do it, Charles. You’ll help her.”
His face contorts with irritation as he turns to his wife. “Maria, you don’t understand—”
“Oh, I understand plenty.”
Her voice is calmer now, full of a sort of dull blankness that tells me she’s forcing down her churning emotions, pushing them away so she can function. I recognize that tone all too well.
“Alan Montgomery—”
“—deserves to pay for what he did,” she says, cutting Charles off again. “And you’re going to make sure he does. You’re going to help Sabrina expose him. Help her show the world what he’s done. If you don’t, I’ll expose all of the things that you’ve done.”
Her husband’s eyes widen. “Maria, you wouldn’t—”
“Yes, I would.” She sneers, disdain spreading across her features. “I know plenty about your business, including the less than legal things you’ve done to get ahead. I tried to live with it, to tell myself it was just the cost of success, a price every businessman had to pay. Because I thought there were some lines you wouldn’t cross. But I was wrong. And I will tell the authorities everything I know if I have to.”
For a second, Charles looks like he wants to slap her, but he doesn’t. His face goes placid and calm, but I know it’s just a mask.
“Are you threatening me, Maria?” he asks coldly.
A small smile tilts her lips, but her hands are still curled into half-fists, as if she’s itching to scratch his eyes out with her nails. “I thought that was obvious, dear.”
I can’t decide how to feel about this. The last thing I expected when I walked through the front door was to find someone in this house on my side, and I’m not sure how to react to my mother’s support.
Fury finally breaks through Charles’s mask of indifference as his gaze snaps to mine.
“Fine,” he says. “Fine. But what I did was for all of us, even if you can’t see that. I’m not a monster. It was never supposed to get as far as it did, never supposed to get that bad.” His eyes meet mine, and my stomach twists at the conviction I see in them as he adds, “I was only trying to take care of my family.”
22
Family.
The word hits me in the chest like a bullet to my heart.
This man isn’t my family. He gave up the right to call himself that the day he handed me over to Alan. I’ve made a new family for myself, one that doesn’t include people like the fucker standing in front of me trying to defend his actions with shitty excuses.
But Maria…
I look at the woman currently glaring at Charles, her features contorted with rage and tears streaming down her cheeks. She looks psychotic, like the women who used to lurk on the streets I grew up on, addicted to crack or heroin or booze. There’s barely a hint of the polished, groomed woman who walked into the room just minutes ago.
My lips press together as I look at her. If what she says is true, she had no idea that I was traded away. But does that mean I can trust her now? Really trust her?
I don’t know, but that’s not a question I can deal with right now. Maybe later, when I don’t feel like Alan and Cliff are constantly waiting for a chance to kill me or trap me again. Maybe after things get better and I can sit down with her and catch up on all the things we missed, the years we never got to have because of the man standing in front of me.
That’s for another time, though.
I turn to my pathetic excuse for a father, lifting an eyebrow. I refuse to show him how emotionally fucked up this meeting and the knowledge of their existence has made me.
“So?” I take a step toward him, and the Sinners all step with me, an overwhelming force bearing down on Charles. “What do you have for us? Tell me every-fucking-thing you know about Alan. I want details.”
He hesitates, his pissed off expression growing a touch wary, maybe even scared. “Alan is powerful. It’s not just about money anymore. He’s the wealthiest man in California, but his reach goes far beyond that. He’s virtually untouchable because of the network he’s created for himself, the people he keeps in his pocket. He’s very careful, always covers his tracks—or when he can’t, he makes sure he has enough people on his side to keep the truth from getting out.”
I glare at him, baring my teeth. I hate the sound of Charles’s voice, so proper and elegant even at a time like this. I hate everything about him, and I don’t want to prolong this conversation unnecessarily.