Jonathan Wade isn’t who you think he is, son. Be careful.
I swallowed. “What does this all mean?”
“It means”—he cleared his throat—“she’s likely to dissociate again.”
Epilogue
Brad
Present Day…
The guard clanked his key against my cell. “You have a visitor, Steel.”
“It’s not visiting day.”
“What can I say? He made it clear he had to see you.” The guard pointed to his pocket.
Of course. Money talked. How well my father had taught me that lesson.
It had to be Talon. He was the only person who ever visited me, and I hadn’t seen him in over a month.
I held out my hands to be cuffed—one of the prices I’d paid so those who’d helped me over the years could go free. No minimum security for Brad Steel. I was treated like a serial killer, except I didn’t have to wear a Hannibal Lecter mask and be rolled around on a dolly.
The guard led me to the visitor area and cuffed my left hand to the bar so my right was free to use the phone.
I picked up the receiver. “Talon,” I said.
I jolted when the voice on the other end spoke back.
“It’s not Talon.”
Only then did I focus my gaze on the person on the other side of the glass.
Jonah.
My firstborn.
Like looking in a mirror twenty-something years ago.
The son for whom I’d created my legacy—my legacy that had turned to nothing more than smoldering ash.
Oh, the money was still there. My family was set for many lifetimes.
But at what cost?
“Joe,” I said simply.
“I’m here for only one reason,” he said, “and it’s not to make peace.”
I cleared my throat. His attitude didn’t surprise me, and I’d given up hope long ago that my firstborn would ever forgive my indiscretions. Not even a glimmer of hope remained.
“Understood.”
This time he cleared his throat. “I just had an interesting conversation with my mother.”
I lifted my eyebrows at his use of the word interesting. I’d taken care of Daphne since her complete break with reality over twenty years ago. Conversations with her were always the same, centered on her two sons away at camp—even though we’d never sent our children to camp—and her baby, Angela, which was Marjorie’s original given name until we changed it after she defied all odds and lived—not becoming an angel—despite being born prematurely.
I said simply, “Interesting?”
“Yes. Very interesting.”
“I assume you didn’t come here only to tell me it was interesting.”
He paused a moment. Then, “I debated coming at all. I almost didn’t.”
Did he expect me to commend him? Tell him I was glad he’d come? I was, but what was he truly after?
“Just say what you came to say, son.”
He winced when I said “son.”
Too bad. He was still my son, and I was still his father. That would never change, nor did I want it to.
“Sometimes Mom seems to come back to reality,” he said.
“She has a minute of lucidity every once in a while,” I said. “Unfortunately, they never last long.”
“Marj and Talon have seen them a few times. I’ve only witnessed one, and it happened today.”
I nodded. “And you’ve come to tell me about it.”
“Yes. It was…troubling.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He cleared his throat once more. “She said she’d been keeping a secret. A big secret. One that was destroying her.”
I widened my eyes. Daphne had never said anything to me about a secret before. “Did she say what it was?”
“No. She faded out into her own little world before I could get any more information.”
“I see.”
“You say she’s had moments of lucidity in the past.”
“Yes.”
“Has she mentioned a secret?”
“No, she hasn’t.”
“What kind of things has she said?”
“Usually she recognized me and got angry for things I’d done in the past.”
He rolled his eyes. “There was certainly no shortage of those.”
I couldn’t fault him for his not-so-subtle dig. He was right.
“Through everything, I always loved her,” I said. “I still love her.”
“You had a strange way of showing it.”
“Everything I did was for—”
“Her protection. I know. I’ve heard it all before. I didn’t come here to rehash old news. I came here to find out what you’re still hiding.”
“I’m not hiding anything,” I said.
“Bullshit.”
“All I have is my word.”
“Your word sucks.”
“I’ve lied in the past. I’m not lying now.”
“That’s what a liar would say.”
“For Christ’s sake, Jonah, do you really think I’d be here, rotting in prison for the rest of my life, if I still had any lies left in me? I’m paying the price for my sins, and it’s no less than I deserve. But I did it all—”
“For us. Spare me.”
“Think what you want. I have no control over you. I haven’t since that bastard Tom Simpson first taught you how to handle a gun.”
“I’m no fan of Tom Simpson. He was a psycho degenerate, but at least he taught me. It’s been a useful skill over the years. For the life of me, I never understood why you wouldn’t.”