27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

N atalie

The sun is warm on my face as Fury and I sit at a weathered picnic table, the remnants of two humongous naga street burritos spread before us. Shaddai's snoring at our feet, his belly full and his puppy dreams untroubled.

If only my own thoughts were so peaceful.

Fury must sense my unease because he reaches across the table, his large hand engulfing mine. "What's on your mind, Tally? You've been quiet all day."

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. I've been rehearsing this conversation in my head for days, but now that the moment's here, the words stick in my throat like shards of glass.

"There's something I need to do," I begin, my voice wavering slightly. "Something I should have done a long time ago."

His eyes search mine, probing but patient. "Okay. Whatever it is, I'm here. You know that, right?"

A faint smile tugs at my lips, despite the churning in my gut. "I know. And I'm so grateful for that. You have no idea."

I grip his large hand on top of the scabbed wooden table slats. Squaring my shoulders, I forge ahead before I lose my nerve. "It's about my dad."

Fury stills, a flicker of something dark and painful crossing his face before he smooths it away. He must not have as much control of his ears as he does his facial expression, because they're almost flat to his head as he asks, "What about him?"

"We're not close. Haven't been for a long time." The words taste bitter on my tongue, a festering wound I've ignored for too long. "He was always busy with work when I was a kid. Missed birthdays, holidays, school plays. Mom made excuses, but I knew where his priorities lay."

Fury's fingers tighten around mine, a silent show of support. I draw strength from that steady grip, forging onward.

"When I chose to study wildlife biology, to follow my passion… he couldn't understand it. Said I was wasting my potential." A humorless laugh escapes me. "Thought I should follow in his footsteps, go into ‘real' science."

"Maybe he'll never be able to see the truth," Fury murmurs, fierce and certain. "Which is that you're brilliant at what you do—and happy. He should be proud."

Tears prick my eyes at his unwavering faith, his conviction. But I blink them back, determined to get through this.

"That was nothing compared to what came next." My voice drops, roughened by old anger and fresh shame. "A few years ago, he let slip what his ‘real' science entailed. What he did those first months after the Others arrived."

Fury goes very, very still. "How much did he tell you? I imagined you might have guessed or found a scribbled note somewhere in your house that gave you a clue. I never dreamed anyone would divulge their sadistic behaviors, especially to their daughter."

I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak around the lump in my throat .

"He didn't give me the level of… detail you shared with me in the cabin, but I got the drift. He was proud of it, Fury. Called it his ‘finest hour'. Said he'd advanced the cause of science, of human understanding, kept the world safe from…" The words are poison, searing my throat. I don't want to speak the evil out loud, don't want to repeat the words vermin, roaches, and worse. "Said it was necessary to see what you were capable of, to make sure you wouldn't attack us, take us over. As if you weren't people, just the enemy."

A shudder ripples through Fury, his eyes far away and haunted. I grip his hand tighter, an anchor against the tide of memory.

"I left," I whisper. "Walked out and have barely spoken to him since. I couldn't stomach it, couldn't reconcile the father I thought I knew with the monster he revealed himself to be. I just doubled down on my career, dedicated to helping this planet and every living thing on it."

For a long moment, there are only the distant squeals of children playing, the rustling of leaves overhead, and a squeaky grunt drifting up from Shaddai's sleeping form. Fury is silent, his gaze fixed on our interlaced fingers.

Finally, he looks up, his eyes shining with an emotion I can't quite name. "I'm sorry, Tally. Sorry you had to carry that, to grapple with that betrayal."

"Don't." I shake my head vehemently. "Don't apologize for his sins. You, of all people…"

He lifts our joined hands, pressing a fierce kiss to my knuckles. "We've both got scars, Tally. They might be different, but they're ours. And we carry them together now."

A shaky exhale gusts out of me, the vise around my lungs easing just a fraction. "That's why I need to see him. To confront him, to make him understand the magnitude of what he's done."

Fury's brows furrow, concern etching deep lines into his rugged face. "Are you sure that's a good idea? Facing him alone… "

"I won't be alone." The words are out before I can second-guess them, before I can swallow them. "Because I want you there with me. If you can bear it."

His eyes widen, shock and something fiercer, flares to life in their silver depths. "Tally…"

"Only if you're comfortable with it," I rush to add, suddenly uncertain. "I know it's a lot to ask, and I would never presume…"

"I'll be there." The words are low but adamant, brooking no argument. "Of course, I'll be there. Wherever you need me, whenever you need me."

Relief crashes through me, so acute it steals my breath. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He lifts my hand again, turning it to place a soft, reverent kiss to the center of my palm. "You and me, remember? No matter what."

"Take some time. Think about it, Fury. If you can bear being in the same room with the man who tortured you, we'll go together. Call me crazy, but in my mind, we walk in with the heavy bags of shit we've been carrying for years. We say our piece and then leave our imaginary bags at his feet. No matter what his response is, we leave it there and walk away—less burdened, cleaner, lighter."

Fury is nodding slowly. Perhaps he's parsing through my shit-laden imagery and picturing what it would be like to leave his pain and shame and anger behind.

"When we walk back out through his door, whether he admits any wrongdoing, whether he apologizes, or whether he doubles down, we'll walk out a hundred pounds lighter."

"Only a hundred, Tally? I think it will be a thousand pounds, and I'd love to lay that shit at his feet and let him swim in it."

The word-picture both shocks and amuses me.

"I like the way you think, love. Let's do it today, shall we?"