Legions (Georgia Smoke #7)

Thirteen

· ·

“At least let me get what I want out before you burn the place down.”

Capri

When I came out of my room the next morning, my mom was standing at the front windows, looking out with a cup of coffee. I saw her eyes check behind me before she came back to meet mine.

“I didn’t hear him leave. He’s quieter than you are.”

My cheeks warmed. I’d tried not to be loud last night, but it was hard with Thatcher. He’d slipped out sometime after he had woken me at six to slide inside me from behind. The bite mark on my shoulder just below the curve of my neck still held a slight sting. I reached up and touched it.

“Sorry about that,” I muttered.

She lifted one shoulder. “What’s listening to your daughter have sex several times in one night after finding out your husband hadn’t been screwing you because he had a thing for girls instead.”

I winced. She made him sound like a pedophile. I didn’t say anything though. It wasn’t the time to correct her. She was dealing with a lot of hurt and betrayal.

“I’d ask him not to come, but,” I paused.

“He would come anyway. I watched him looking at you. He’s got an obsession that is far worse than anything I’ve ever seen. You’re an addiction for him. Before, I’d have told you that was unhealthy. But seeing as your father has an addiction to sex with anyone other than me, I will instead say, lucky you.”

I found that I missed her words being filled with disappointment in me. The bitterness that now laced them stemmed from all she’d found out was something that I’d never wanted for her.

“I’m fine here,” she said. “You don’t need to stay and babysit me.”

I sighed. “Mom, you wanted me here yesterday. You don’t want to be alone.”

She stared out the window. “I don’t want a lot of things, Capri. I don’t want to be someone who the town pities. I don’t want the life I built to have it all been a lie. But right now, I think I might be better alone. Time to pack things up. Make some decisions.”

My gaze swung around the living room. What was she packing up? All the religious stuff maybe? I could help her with that.

“Let me stay and help you pack things up,” I told her.

She shook her head just before her entire body went rigid. Her eyes locked on something outside. I walked over to see what or who it was when I saw Esther getting out of the passenger’s side of her mother’s car. My mom turned and started back toward her bedroom. “Get rid of them,” she told me, and I waited until she slammed the door behind her before stepping out onto the front porch.

Esther’s eyes met mine, and the puffiness from hours of crying wasn’t lost on me. I was just shocked her mom was here. Which meant she had told her mother. I hadn’t expected that. I’d thought she’d go into hiding for a while. Hoping she wasn’t called out.

“I’m sure y’all both understand that my momma isn’t up for a visit,” I drawled, crossing my arms over my chest. Just yesterday Esther had given me a dressing down for not being here for my mother. I had for a moment believed she was the better daughter, person. Had it been her guilt that had made her act so high and mighty? She’d been here filling the daughter role, thinking it would make up for the fact she’d slept with my dad. Just… gross.

Rosette, her mother, took a step forward. “I know what she did was awful. The loss of her virginity is one we’ve known about since she came home pregnant and refused to tell us the daddy. Until yesterday I had thought it was some one-night stand. I had no idea it was,” she paused and took a deep breath. “A much greater sin than I could have imagined.”

“Wait, what pregnancy?” I asked, afraid more secrets were about to burst open.

“I… I didn’t go to visit my fictional aunt that you’d never heard of in Florida for a month five years ago. I went to have an abortion. Then, I stayed with friends of my mom’s until I was emotionally ready to come back.

We stood there in silence. She’d been pregnant… with… my dad’s baby.

“He, he likes virgins,” she said the words as if she were going to be ill. “He… does things. Leads up to it, then takes their virginity. He’s done after that. He moves on.”

I held up a hand to stop her.

“I can’t hear any more of this.”

My father was a sick pervert.

“I’m sorry,” Esther blurted.

I wasn’t ready to hear that. Seeing as she’d been twenty-two when this happened. She hadn’t been a child. She’d known what she was doing. Grown up in this house. Around my father. Nope, I was going to be sick.

“Just go,” I said, turning to go back inside and locking the door. If there were any more confessions today, I didn’t need to hear them.

I stood in the living room with my arms crossed over my chest. Fighting the horrors that played out in my head. How many had there been? Had they all been over eighteen? I doubted twenty-two-year-old virgins were easy to find.

My phone rang and I pulled it out of my pocket to see Thatcher’s name.

“Hey,” I said, unable to hide what I was feeling from him.

“What happened?” he asked, and it sounded like he started walking.

“Esther came over with her mom. I didn’t let them in, but she said… she said he got her pregnant, and she had to get an abortion. He likes them to be virgins,” I stopped as bile burned my throat.

“Where are you?” he bit out.

“At Mom’s,” I replied.

“Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”

“No, she needs me,” I told him, although I wanted to see him. I wanted him to make all the bad in my head go away.

“She just called and asked me to come get you before I called you. She’s ready for me to move the money into an account with her name only, and she’s got the best divorce attorney in Atlanta on his way to the house to meet with her.”

I stared at her closed door. “She does?”

“Yes. She asked me to get her someone that could get it done.”

I let out a long breath. What would he not do for me? I was sure there was nothing.

The sound of a door closed, and an engine started up. “I’m on my way,” he told me.

“Okay.”

Ending the call, I turned slowly in the living room that held so many family memories. All tainted now by the secrets that had been hidden right under our noses. It felt as if someone had used an eraser and taken those years away from me. Gone. No longer real. No longer mine.

I walked to the bedroom and took the folded note from my father. This was more lying, something that meant nothing. Taking it to the kitchen sink, I found the lighter my mom used for candles. I lit the edge of the paper, watching it burn until I had to drop it.

The smoke detector went off, so I turned the water on to put out the embers. Then, I got a towel to fan the smoke away so the alarm would shut up.

Mom was standing there watching me when I turned around.

“At least let me get what I want out before you burn the place down,” she said.

I dropped my eyes to the sink. “I was burning the letter,” I admitted.

“If only it were that easy.” Her response held a darkness. One I understood.

Being back at the stables with Thatcher helped me feel more at ease as if my life had some stability. However, when King walked into the lounge, I wasn’t sure we needed to be here. King looked like he was about to say something he was debating. I wanted to raise my hand and request that he not. At least let us get through today before any more shit happened.

King glanced at me before turning his attention back to Thatcher. “This may not be the best time to bring it up, but we need to make a decision on Zephyr’s jockey for Kentucky,” he began. “Bloodline wouldn’t have come in second at the Breeders without Capri.”

Thatcher tensed beside me, his hand tightening his grip on my shirt that he had fisted at my back the moment King walked into the room. Had they been discussing this without me? I’d tried not to think about it over the holidays, but the closer to Spring, I had been battling bringing it up.

With everything else that had been happening, it had slipped further back into my importance meter.

“Not now,” Thatcher replied.

King gave me an apologetic look then nodded. Normally I would be on board to push this, but I was doing good to work through everything I thought I knew about my life changing overnight.

“You need help with anything?” King asked Thatcher, then his eyes seemed to be asking more than that as they looked at each other. As if he knew something already. Since my dad had been doing shady deals for the family nine years ago maybe he did know. They might all know.

“Not sure yet,” Thatcher told him.

King nodded once, then gave me a smile that was more sympathetic than anything before. He left the room. Thatcher pulled me closer to him, inhaled, and pressed his nose to my head. “He doesn’t have the details,” he said in a low voice. “Just enough.”

I nodded, relieved. I didn’t want the others to know the sex addiction my dad had or that he’d gotten my former best friend pregnant and left her to figure it out on her own. The more I thought about what he had done the more I wondered how many others there had been.

“Maeme’s cooking tonight. Want to go eat with the others, or would you rather just go home?” he asked me.

We hadn’t been home since he picked me up from my parents’ house earlier. He had brought me here, and I watched Rog take out Sword and Nemesis. Their times weren’t bad, but I knew they could do better. He wasn’t reading their tells and I needed to work with him on that. It had distracted me. Given me something else to think about.

Facing the family seemed to be more than I could handle tonight.

“I would rather just be with you,” I told him.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” he replied. “Let’s go home.”