He’s been so good with her that my fear is actually more about him hating me. I could’ve tried harder to find him and tell him about her. I never should have believed Paul when he told me Isaac knew. To Paul, this has always been a game, one I’m sure will come down to money. With Paul, there is no other reason for doing anything.
“I’ve got it,” Dasher says when he appears at the top of the stairs. He’s in sweatpants and a sweater that says Number One Dad on it. I’d smile if it didn’t feel like my whole world is falling apart. Isaac gives my brother a nod before he heads up the stairs with Rae in his arms.
“Get in my fucking office, Paul,” Dasher growls, storming down the stairs.
“You’re not the one with the power this time, Dasher,” Paul spits back, but he does as Dasher asks and makes his way toward my brother's office. “But I could use a drink.” He leaves the door open as he enters, and I hear the sound of glassware being moved around a moment later.
Dasher comes to stand in front of me. “Do you know Isaac has been in prison?” He drops the bomb right on my head. I suppose that might be better than him having some other family out there. “He’s been gone all this time because he was locked up.”
“Why?” It must not have been too bad because Dasher just let Isaac take Rae off to bed. He also didn't come track me down today and demand I get away from him.
“I’m not sure, to be honest. It’s a mess, and people aren't too happy that I’m asking questions about it either.” Dasher’s frustration shows on his face.
“We can ask him,” I suggest. It’s what I should have done already, but I kept putting it off. Clearly so has Isaac. My guess is he thought it might push me away, but nothing would.
“You could’ve told me yesterday he’s Paul’s brother,” he says softly, and I let out a humorless laugh.
“There are a lot of things I should have done.” Tears sting my eyes at the confession. “I’m a horrible mother.” I cover my face with my hands as Dasher pulls me into his arms, hugging me.
“You are not a horrible mother, Jillian. You would do anything for that little girl.” That only makes me cry harder. “Paul isn't her father?” I lift my head, trying to get myself together. I don’t want Paul to see that he’s gotten the better of me.
I shake my head, and it feels good to get that out there. “I never loved Paul. I married him because I thought it would make our parents happy.”
“Jill.” Dasher closes his eyes. “Always worrying about everyone else.”
“I’m sorry,” I rush to say.
“Don’t be sorry. I have no clue how this Isaac comes into play with being Rae’s dad, but thank fuck.”
“Did you just forget you told me he’s been in prison?”
“Yeah, and no one can seem to tell me why. Link that with Paul, and I have my own suspicions.” Disgust hangs on every one of his words.
“Oh god.” I cover my mouth with my hand.
Paul told me Isaac wanted nothing to do with me and that he called me a whore. He not only said those things to hurt me but to make me think no one else would ever want me since I had a daughter. He made me think I was lucky he was sticking with me.
The reality is Paul wanted to make sure I didn’t go looking for Isaac. It worked, and it was another reason for Isaac to hate me. What if I’d gone digging? Then maybe Isaac wouldn't have been in prison all this time. I’m inclined to agree with Dasher that Paul had everything to do with how Isaac ended up behind bars.
We both turn when we hear footsteps coming down the stairs. Isaac is no longer trying to hide his anger now that Rae is out of the room. He looks like he’s about to explode, and Dasher puts an arm around me.
“No one is going to hurt Rae,” Dasher says, trying to comfort me.
The worst part is that I’m pretty sure it’s me who has hurt Rae, and there’s no talking that back. What is done is done, and I can only hope that Isaac isn't done with me.
Ten
ISAAC
I storm down the steps, trying not to make too much noise as I glance over at Jillian and her brother. My lips are pressed in a tight line as I go straight for Dasher's office and fling open the door.
Paul is sitting in one of the high-back leather chairs with a tumbler of scotch in one hand. He’s swirling it casually like he’s got all the time in the world, instead of his time running out.