Page 123 of The Risk Taker
One swift nod of his set jaw accompanies a single word. “Yeah.”
“She finally started speaking to you then, huh?”
“She did.” His eyes glint, the only indication that he’s smiling inside. Dad always told me he thought Sinclair would hit it off with Denver one day, if she just gave him the chance.
“Sullivan?” I ask.
“He’s engaged to Tate.”
“Tate,” I echo, soaking up the information. “And they have a daughter?”
Denver clears his throat. “Molly. But she’s not… Tate’s adopting her.”
I let that sink in. Molly must be Claudia’s. Sullivan was dating her when we went to Cape Town. The timing would make sense. Something obviously happened between them if they’re no longer together.
“And my father? Halliday?”
“She’s been good for him. Good for all of them.”
I nod, understanding my father choosing to marry again wouldn’t be a decision he’d have made lightly. We all saw how hard he and Mom tried to portray a united front to us, their kids.But even before I witnessed her arguing with her lover, I knew they weren’t happy together.
They didn’t look at one another like a couple who loved each other.
Not the maddening, all-consuming love that I feel for Jude. A love that makes you cross oceans on a fake passport, knowing that the only things waiting for you could be jail and a whole load of pain.
But I’d do it all again a billion times just to see her face one more time.
The thought of her waiting in her bed for me tugs at my gut. I’ve been gone hours but been too in my head to return sooner.
I clear my throat. “Uncle Mal? Aunt Trudy?”
I study Denver as he takes his time answering.
His expression turns grim. “Mal took it hard.”
My breath stalls. I’ve stopped myself from looking them up, too scared of how it would feel to see them living their lives without me that I never considered?—
“He’s never stopped searching for answers about what happened to both of you.”
I sag against the railing, relief flowing through my veins like a river. He’s still alive. I’m not responsible for another family member’s premature demise.
“And did he get any?” I ask, pushing a hand around my jaw as I stare at Denver.
It’s weird, it’s been three years, but talking to him now, I could believe it was yesterday I last spoke with him. He and I always got on well. He might have worked for the family, but to me I just saw a guy I liked and respected, who I called a friend.
“Some. We know Elaina saw Neil at the marina that day.”
My hands curl into fists at the mention of his name. The way Mom told him she loved him.
“But he wasn’t responsible for starting the fire,” Denver says.
“He went there to ask her to leave us all for him,” I spit.
“And she chose to stay,” Denver says.
“How do you know that?”
“Neil returned to New York. He followed Sinclair… He got close to her…” Denver’s entire bulky frame stiffens like the knowledge of someone getting close to my sister both boils his blood and terrifies him in equal measure. “He told her your mother chose to stay. That she said she’d never leave her family.”
