Page 66 of Irrevocably

I blink away the tears fiercely but more come to take their place. “I know you did.”

Dad is still staring at the photo. “I would have done anything for her, anything to save her.”

I look down at my hands clasped in my lap, my knuckles white. He couldn’t save her, though, because she didn’t want the treatment while she was pregnant. She wanted me more than a chance to survive.

“But she wanted you,” he goes on, reading my thoughts. “She didn’t want to do anything that might put you at risk.”

Everything in me tightens as I stare fiercely at my hands, bracing myself for the blow I know is going to fall. For the accusation I can see in his eyes every time he looks at me. That he lost the woman he loved and got me instead.

“I didn’t agree,” Dad says, running the knife right through me. “I wanted her to have the treatment anyway, and I was angry with her for refusing it.”

I nod as a tear drips onto the back of my hand, the pressure in my chest almost unbearable. I want to say sorry, to apologise for my very existence, and for the grief my birth put him through.

“Then you arrived,” Dad keeps on going. “And you were so perfect, and I knew that Carrie had been right all along.”

I swallow, too caught up in my grief for a few seconds to fully process what he just said. And then I do. I look up at him, blinking away the tears. “What?”

Dad’s expression is still neutral, but there’s something bleak in his eyes. “I thought it was still possible to save her after you were born,” he says. “We tried everything, every treatment we could, and found one that seemed to work. But it was expensive, so very expensive.” Slowly he moves over to the mantelpiece where the photo stands, and looks down at it. “The club had an agreement with the former chief. They paid him to look away from the goings-on in the clubhouse and at the port. When he left, and I became chief, the club naturally wanted to keep the arrangement going.” He turns to look at me. “At first, I said no, but then Sawyer said he’d pay for Carrie’s treatment if I agreed to keep the earlier understanding in place.” The neutral expression slowly eases from his face, bitter regret replacing it. “I couldn’t refuse this time. I agreed to look the other way in return for the money for your mother’s treatment.”

I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know what to feel. Should I be relieved that Dad did this for my mother and not for his own gain? Or should I be furious that he even agreed to it in the first place. “But what about after she died?” I ask, my voice thick with tears. “What happened then?”

Dad lets out a long breath. “When she died, their leverage over me should have died with her, but it didn’t. They threatened you instead.”

I go cold with shock. “What?”

“If I didn’t agree to keep turning a blind eye, they’d hurt you.”

The cold spreads outwards, seeping through my blood like ice water. So, I’m the reason Dad lets them do whatever they want. I’m the reason my mom died, and now I’m the reason for the corruption of my father’s soul.

“I could leave,” I say tightly. “Head overseas, go somewhere the club can’t find me.”

But Dad shakes his head. “Sawyer made it very clear that it didn’t matter whether you left or stayed. They’d follow you regardless.”

I scrub furiously at my cheeks, wiping away my stupid tears, anger beginning to build inside me. “Why didn’t you tell me about any of this?”

He ignores the angry note in my voice. “Because there was no point. It would only scare you and worry you, and I didn’t want to do that.”

“And Wolf?” I can’t stop thinking about him. Does he know about the threat to me? Has he known all this time?

“Yes, Connor knows.” Dad doesn’t sound bleak this time, only tired. “He doesn’t like it, obviously, but he can’t go against his president. He told me he’d make sure you were safe as much as he could.”

So, Wolf did know. All this time his club has been blackmailing my father and using my life to do it with, and he never said a fucking word to me about it.

“Don’t get angry with him,” Dad says, reading my expression. “He didn’t want to tell you for the same reasons I didn’t. Plus, he can’t do anything about it.”

My cheeks are still wet no matter how many times I wipe them, and I don’t know why I’m crying, not when I’m so angry at the same time.

I shove myself off the couch, too furious to sit still. “You didn’t think of just … I don’t know, giving up your job and moving away?”

He shakes his head, running a tired hand through his hair. “If only it was that simple. I’m useful to Sawyer now, but if I leave, I’m no longer of use, and if I’m no longer of use, I’m a loose end that needs to be tied. And so are you.”

“So, what? They’ll kill you? They’ll kill me?”

He closes his eyes as if he can’t possibly bear another second of this conversation, but he doesn’t move. “Yes,” he says simply. “I don’t care about me. At this point, it would be a relief. But I can’t let anything happen to you.” He opens his eyes again, his gaze very direct. “I don’t want you to take responsibility for any of this. It wasn’t your choice and it’s not your fault. I’m the one who has to take responsibility for it. This happened on my watch, not yours, and I’ve made my peace with it.”

My fury burns hot and my chest is so tight I can’t breathe. I want to burst into a storm of tears. I want to howl at the moon. I want to find my knife and cut and cut and cut. I want Lucien.

But I can’t do any of those things, can’t have any of those things, not now. This is the burden Dad has been carrying all this time, and it’s been slowly and steadily crushing him. He’s being crushed right now, right in front of my eyes.