Page 109 of Backlash

Emotion swells my throat, preventing me from speaking, and Felix sighs.

“I suppose I have no business giving anyone else relationship advice,” he admits.

“I’m no expert, but that seemed like decent advice. Maybe you should call Maria,” I say meaningfully.

Felix’s eyes droop at the mention of his ex-paramour, a schoolteacher at Beautiful Valley Elementary. They’d been on and off again for years, but he hadn’t spoken of her in months. “I’m afraid that ship sailed—off to Memphis.”

“What?”

“I waited too long,” he says. “She wanted a family, and I wasn’t ready.”

He’s lying, and I know it. Felix might have left, moved on with his life, married Maria, and lived happily ever after. Instead, he’d stuck around to see me through my mother’s death. Then Sterling left, and I went to London. “You gave your notice before I moved to England. Why didn’t you leave then?”

“Your father asked me to stay on a little while longer while he looked for a replacement. It was a reasonable request,” Felix says, “and Maria had no problem with it—until I changed my mind about leaving.”

“But why did you change your mind?” Why didn’t he leave? Why didn’t he escape? He gave up the happy ending he might have had with Maria for years of suffering abuse at my father’s hands.

“You know why,” he whispers. “I couldn’t bear making you come back here alone to face your family.” He’s never admitted to me what we both knew. I was the reason Felix stayed. He stayed for me and Ellie and Ginny and Malcolm—and where had that gotten him?

“You shouldn’t have.”

The corner of his mouth crooks. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

And now he’s stuck here, nailed in place by my father’s final edict naming Felix as the trustee of Windfall until Ellie was old enough to inherit it. “They’re going to be terrible to you.”

“I don’t do it for them.”

“Thank you.” There’s nothing else I can give him for the sacrifices he has made.

“Let’s get these to your car,” he suggests.

I take one box and Felix takes two. We’re halfway down the main stairs when Malcolm bursts through the front door.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demands.

“Taking my things.” I force myself to keep going, but as soon as I hit the landing, he steps in front of me.

“You did not ask to enter this house.”

“She doesn’t need to ask,” Felix says, his tone rich with warning. It’s not like him to go toe-to-toe with my brother. But now that he’s been placed in charge of Ellie’s inheritance, Malcolm can’t fire him.

“She doesn’t own this house,” Malcolm says, trying to take the box from my hands. “Or anything in it.”

“Neither do you.” I swing the box to the side and move around him.

“Your problem is with me,” Felix says, attempting to redirect my brother’s fury.

It works. Malcolm turns on him. “I can’t believe you let her in here after I gave you express instructions not to.”

“Wait.” I pause, placing the box on the entry table before I lose it and hurl it his direction. “You ordered him to keep me out?”

“I may not own this house,” Malcolm sneers, “but neither do you. My daughter does.”

“Your daughter?” I repeat, something dangerous taking hold of me. “Maybe I should ask her if I can come in. It’s just like you to drag Ellie into this. Leave her out of our problems. Felix is her trustee. He can decide who’s welcome here.”

“For now,” he says, throwing a caustic look in Felix’s direction.

My heart beats like a war drum, warning me something terrible is coming my way. “What does that mean?”