wouldn’t. I wouldn’t risk it. It’s not who I am.”
Somewhere in the restaurant there is a baby crying, screaming the way babies do when they need to communicate their pain without words. “Are they pressing charges?” I ask.
“No, they said if I left voluntarily, they wouldn’t. But they promised me they could prove it, they showed me evidence . . . it’s fake but even to me it looked real. These people, they know me, they trained me, promised me a future. They know I’m being set up . . . and they don’t care. The club I used to belong to? They revoked my membership. They won’t tell me why. These were my friends . . . I thought they were my friends.” He looks down at his hands folded in his lap, the burrito carnitas mangled and unappealing on a paper plate. “Help me,” he whispers again.
I shake my head. I feel dizzy. Robert couldn’t be responsible for this. Would he even have that power?
Of course he did. It’s like Mr. Costin said, Robert sits on the boards of many of the city’s major businesses and is a major stockholder in the rest. He was able to get women from several of the companies that contract with my firm to make false accusations against Tom. Why couldn’t he do the same thing to Dave? It fit the pattern.
And for the first time I realize that this is probably a pattern that started when he saw similar things done to his father.
But would he do it? What would be the point? Even if he didn’t share in my compassion for this man, there are still other things that would stop him, right? After all, Robert knows I don’t want Dave talking to my parents and although Dylan Freeland must know something about what went down by now I really don’t need Dave filling in the details. If Robert had stripped Dave of everything he cared about, it would leave me vulnerable to his attacks . . .
. . . which leads me to another realization.
“You didn’t tell,” I breathe. “You had every reason to betray me and you didn’t.”
He laughs; it’s an ugly sound, heavy with misery and derision. “Don’t mistake me for something I’m not. I haven’t learned benevolence in the time we’ve been apart. I went to Dylan.”
“But that’s not possible; Mr. Freeland would have—”
“Dylan Freeland has always been like a father to me,” Dave says in a frightening monotone. “He’s always been there for me. I love him, Kasie.”
His voice shakes at this last part. I almost reach for him but stop myself, unsure if our history makes such intimacies prohibited. So instead I just nod sympathetically. “I know,” I say.
“He’s broken. I don’t know what your Mr. Dade has on him—”
“Wait, you’re saying it’s more than just the threat of losing business—”
“Does he enjoy it?” he asks, cutting me off. “Diminishing Dylan like that? Making him feel so weak that he can’t even make decisions for his own company? So weak that instead of helping his godson he tells him to keep quiet. He basically told me that if I know what’s good for me, I’ll tuck my tail between my legs and slink off before more of Robert Dade’s wrath is brought down. So does Mr. Dade get off on the dominance?” He hesitates only a moment before adding, “Do you?”
I keep very still, unwilling to react to what might be a lie. And it could be; Dave has always been a liar. Still . . . there’s something to this story. . . .
Why hasn’t Mr. Freeland been at the firm for a while? Tom being fired, my promotion . . . Mr. Costin had scolded me for it, he was willing to take that risk, but not Mr. Freeland. I cheated on his godson and he hadn’t so much as sent me an angry e-mail.
Why?
Dave is telling you why, my angel says, you just don’t want to hear.
My throat tightens. “Have you told my parents? I understand if you did. I—”
Again there’s the humorless laugh that prickles my heart. “I won’t tell your parents. Believe it or not, I value my life, what
Somewhere in the restaurant there is a baby crying, screaming the way babies do when they need to communicate their pain without words. “Are they pressing charges?” I ask.
“No, they said if I left voluntarily, they wouldn’t. But they promised me they could prove it, they showed me evidence . . . it’s fake but even to me it looked real. These people, they know me, they trained me, promised me a future. They know I’m being set up . . . and they don’t care. The club I used to belong to? They revoked my membership. They won’t tell me why. These were my friends . . . I thought they were my friends.” He looks down at his hands folded in his lap, the burrito carnitas mangled and unappealing on a paper plate. “Help me,” he whispers again.
I shake my head. I feel dizzy. Robert couldn’t be responsible for this. Would he even have that power?
Of course he did. It’s like Mr. Costin said, Robert sits on the boards of many of the city’s major businesses and is a major stockholder in the rest. He was able to get women from several of the companies that contract with my firm to make false accusations against Tom. Why couldn’t he do the same thing to Dave? It fit the pattern.
And for the first time I realize that this is probably a pattern that started when he saw similar things done to his father.
But would he do it? What would be the point? Even if he didn’t share in my compassion for this man, there are still other things that would stop him, right? After all, Robert knows I don’t want Dave talking to my parents and although Dylan Freeland must know something about what went down by now I really don’t need Dave filling in the details. If Robert had stripped Dave of everything he cared about, it would leave me vulnerable to his attacks . . .
. . . which leads me to another realization.
“You didn’t tell,” I breathe. “You had every reason to betray me and you didn’t.”
He laughs; it’s an ugly sound, heavy with misery and derision. “Don’t mistake me for something I’m not. I haven’t learned benevolence in the time we’ve been apart. I went to Dylan.”
“But that’s not possible; Mr. Freeland would have—”
“Dylan Freeland has always been like a father to me,” Dave says in a frightening monotone. “He’s always been there for me. I love him, Kasie.”
His voice shakes at this last part. I almost reach for him but stop myself, unsure if our history makes such intimacies prohibited. So instead I just nod sympathetically. “I know,” I say.
“He’s broken. I don’t know what your Mr. Dade has on him—”
“Wait, you’re saying it’s more than just the threat of losing business—”
“Does he enjoy it?” he asks, cutting me off. “Diminishing Dylan like that? Making him feel so weak that he can’t even make decisions for his own company? So weak that instead of helping his godson he tells him to keep quiet. He basically told me that if I know what’s good for me, I’ll tuck my tail between my legs and slink off before more of Robert Dade’s wrath is brought down. So does Mr. Dade get off on the dominance?” He hesitates only a moment before adding, “Do you?”
I keep very still, unwilling to react to what might be a lie. And it could be; Dave has always been a liar. Still . . . there’s something to this story. . . .
Why hasn’t Mr. Freeland been at the firm for a while? Tom being fired, my promotion . . . Mr. Costin had scolded me for it, he was willing to take that risk, but not Mr. Freeland. I cheated on his godson and he hadn’t so much as sent me an angry e-mail.
Why?
Dave is telling you why, my angel says, you just don’t want to hear.
My throat tightens. “Have you told my parents? I understand if you did. I—”
Again there’s the humorless laugh that prickles my heart. “I won’t tell your parents. Believe it or not, I value my life, what
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