42. Chapter Forty One

Chapter Forty One

Asher

I still don't think this is a good idea. When we grabbed Lewis, we thought we were finally going to get some answers. Instead, we walked away with a body to dispose of and more questions than ever.

My dad was dating my wife's mom? While her dad was?

I know how hypocritical it seems for me to be shocked, but my dad doesn't share, and he doesn't lose. Ever. If he truly wanted Giselle for himself, there is no way he would ever let Henry have her. And then for him to disappear for half a year mourning her? He didn't even shed a single tear when my own mother passed away.

That kind of care, maybe even love, is unusual for my father's character. However, it seems very typical stalker behavior. For him to obsess over something he lost, latch onto the first reminder of it, and never let go.

Ronan didn't want to say it, but we were both thinking it. The way that he's taken an interest in Skyla since she arrived is an added clue. I'm just not sure how he will react when I confront him.

Never thought I'd say this, but thank god Griggs is with me. Ronan is in his car, down the block a little ways. My dad doesn't need to get suspicious about why we've been spending so much time together, and he sure as hell won't open up when there is more than one person in a room. So, I'm going in alone. Though I imagine by the time I step inside, Griggs will have already broken in and be in the shadows waiting for anything, really.

I tuck my keys into my pocket as the butler opens the door for me. I head straight towards my father's office, rehearsing all of the key points I'm going to bring up so I can trick him out of some information.

Though, as soon as I step through the foyer, a chill runs down my spine. The scars on mine and my wife's back will serve as a forever reminder of this room, of this house, of this…man.

As soon as my father's eyes come to mine through the open doors of his office, I lose my nerve, just for a second. A cold chill runs down my spine as he inspects me like a piece of gum beneath his shoe. Pushing it down, I roll my shoulders back, lift my chin and close the distance between us.

"Asher, you didn't tell me that you were coming," he says, in a tone that would be considered anything but pleased with this unexpected visit.

"My apologies. I didn't really know I was coming until I was here."

He frowns as he takes a seat behind his desk.

"Why is that?"

I pause for a moment, choosing my words carefully.

"Skyla has been talking about her mom a lot lately. She doesn't really know anything about her and she's desperate for it. I told her I'd do some digging if she complied in bed," I shrug in an asshole way my dad will love.

Sure enough, an amused grin spreads across his face as he nods.

"Nice negotiating skills, son. Just remember, these women are practically worthless. If they won't do it, someone else will. Or you can go for more…aggressive tactics. Double the fun," he winks, in a way that turns my stomach when I have to smile in agreement.

Oh, how did I spend my day? With my father telling me if my wife doesn't want to do something in bed, I should just rape her. God, he's a fucking piece of shit.

"Did you know her? You all went to school together, right?" I ask.

He nods slowly, a haziness coming to his eyes like he's reminiscing right this very moment.

"Well," he says, a soft clearing of his throat as he does.

"How well?" I ask a little too quickly.

He shoots me a suspicious glare before he responds.

"Very well. What is this really about?"

"I told you. I—"

"Yes, and as you can tell, I see through your lie. Now, tell me why you're really here."

There are a couple of ways that I could play this. If I double down on my denial, maybe I could get out of this. Then again, maybe I should tell him the truth; he might be able to help. Maybe I'll leave out the whole ‘we killed Clark Lewis' thing.

"Skyla has a stalker," I say, testing the waters with that sentence.

I study him like a hawk, waiting for any indication or reaction. He looks taken back for a moment before he tilts his head to the side in intrigue.

"A stalker? Since when?"

"Since the beginning of school," I answer.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he accuses, like that should have been my first instinct.

"I didn't know until right before the ceremony. After that, I didn't feel it was necessary. I thought it was just someone messing with her head."

"But it's not?"

I shake my head. "No, the stalker is behind Liam's car accident and they—"

"Why would he hurt Liam if he's after Skyla?" my father asks curiously.

Fuck.

My mind scrambles with any reasonable answer I can give. I draw a blank across the board, though. Understanding seems to dawn on my father's face, and I swallow roughly as he stands, rounding the desk to stand in front of me.

"You sharing your wife, son?"

I read him as best as I can, or at least I try to. I can't be seeing what I think I see, though. He isn't angry or disgusted. Instead, he's engaged, maybe even a little proud? I decide to lean into this, carefully.

"When we're bored," I shrug nonchalantly. "Somehow, the creep snuck into the house, took a picture of us…together and left a threatening note right before Liam's accident."

My father's lips purse in displeasure for that last piece. He begins pacing the room as he speaks.

"What do they want? Do we know?"

I shake my head. "Besides the obvious, her?"

"Who have you eliminated as a suspect?"

"Well, that's kind of why I'm here. I didn't know if…"

For a moment, I pause, forcing him to stop mid-step. His head swings over to me, eyes looking me over.

"You wanted to know if I was stalking your wife?"

I don't respond, but I don't have to. So instead I wait, I watch, and I save it all for later.

An amused chuckle rips through him as he shakes his head.

"Little boy, if I wanted your wife, I'd take her. I wouldn't waste my time with games."

That's more on par with the man I know, but still…I can't help but be suspicious.

"She got a letter this morning, addressing her as Giselle."

His eyes narrow at that, amused smile nowhere in sight.

"Where is the letter?"

"Back at the house. Why—"

"What did it say?"

"Uh, fuck. I don't know. I don't have it memorized. Basically something about how she doesn't have to worry, that he will come for her soon."

My father frowns, his mind racing as he nods.

"Keep me apprised of this situation. I assume you're setting up a watch for her?"

I nod.

"Good," he says, as he sits down and dials his phone, avoiding eye contact and thus silently dismissing me.

As I walk down the front steps to my car, I replay it all in my mind. His reactions, his words, his body language shifts. It all rings true for someone who was surprised, but my father is the master manipulator. He's such a compulsive narcissist. I have no doubt that he believes his own lies.

The fact that he knows Liam and I share her is…concerning. I mean, I suppose not since he seemed in full support of it. Only because he assumes it's to use her for our pleasure, not because we love her and want her happy. Also, never mind the calculated eliminator and my uncle, that are also in this happy little family. Yeah, that wouldn't go over as well.

Looks like we need to do a little research and see who else was close to Giselle Thompson.