Chapter Twenty-Eight

Shelby

“Let me go!” I snarled at the two brutes dragging me into the house I’d vowed never to step foot into again.

“I’d be more inclined to let you go, happy to even, had you not tried to jump out of the car at a stoplight,” Rafe growled out, grunting when I landed a heel to his shin. My stamina was shit, but terror did wonders to keep you going.

“Shelby, knock it off, or I’ll carry you,” Carter threatened, more than a little exasperation in his voice. Shaking my hair back from my face, I glared at him, silently daring him to try, and jerked my arm out of Rafe’s hold.

My brother-in-law cursed and snatched it again even as I tried to keep it from him. “Drop the diva tantrum. We aren’t the men you managed to wrap around your finger, and I want this over with as much as you don’t want to go.” He yanked me forward, ignoring my wince from the pull on my ribs, his iron grip likely bruising the hell out of my arm.

Right as I dug my heels in again, prepared to dislocate my shoulder from its socket if need be, an old and familiar face appeared in the open doorway.

“Miss Shelby, it’s good to see you’ve recovered.” The words were softly spoken, and shadows of what I could only identify as regret clouded his eyes. I ceased my struggle with Rafe, shocked at how much the man at the top of the stairs seemed to have aged in the months I’d been gone.

Breathless, I begrudgingly greeted him. “Hello, Jerry. I’d hoped you’d have ditched this gig and found yourself a nice family to settle in with.” He stiffened and blanked his face, the Hamilton steward taking over in an instant. I had to admit, it stung to be on the receiving end of Jerry’s silent censure.

“Mr. Hamilton awaits your arrival. I must warn you, his impatience has grown with your tardiness.” That bit was directed at Carter, not me, but when Carter and Rafe directed their accusing scowls in my direction, I nearly quailed away. Only my stubbornness kept my glare in place.

Forcing a sense of bravado I certainly didn’t feel, I straightened my shoulders and pointedly glanced from Jerry to Rafe’s hand, which was still strangling my forearm. With a huff, the bitter man released me, but none of us missed the white fingerprints left behind. Carter cursed and turned me loose in an instant, getting slapped at for his trouble when he tried to check my arms.

“Fuck off , Carter,” I hissed, then limped my way past him when he reared back so fast you’d have thought I spit in his face. I considered it, but I’d save it for later.

It had only been a year ago that I'd first stepped foot in that house, and I was about to faint dead away like one of Mama’s infamous spells if I didn’t get ahold of myself.

***

Shelby

“What took you so long?” Winston Sr. groused at Carter and Rafe. He harrumphed when they shook their heads in tandem and escorted me to the chair in front of his desk.

The room was the same, as was the cane he had propped against his chair arm, but my father-in-law looked worse than ever. Eyes more bloodshot than white, the slight irregularity to the rise and fall of his chest, and his sallow complexion did more than hint at an illness. Perversely, I hoped he kicked the bucket and joined his son in Hell.

“Welcome home, Shelby Ann,” he greeted, holding out a hand for me to take a seat. When I hesitated, he narrowed his eyes until Rafe shoved down on my shoulder, nearly bringing tears to my eyes. I was genuinely starting to worry I’d managed to reinjure myself. “I see you’re still ungrateful for the status my name has brought you.”

Narrowing my eyes on his washed-out blue ones, I responded, prim as could be. “Which status would that be, Mr. Hamilton? Abused wife? Prisoner? Widow ? Last I checked, I’m no longer married to that demonspawn.”

Winston Sr. chuckled, surprising me to the point I nearly recoiled. “His mother was quite the whore, but we’re not here to address her sins. We’re here to discuss your redemption, Shelby Ann.”

My brows climbed my forehead. I didn’t have a clue about what he was referring to. I barely noticed Rafe taking the chair next to me, while Carter stood a short distance behind the two of us.

“I don’t know what you think I’ve done that requires redemption , but I can assure you I have no—” I jumped when he slammed his fist on the desk.

“Shut your mouth unless you’re asked to open it!” he shouted, turning nearly puce.

A fine tremble started up in my fingers then rushed through my body until I gripped the arms of the chair, knuckles going white, in an effort to hide it. He might have been an older, sicker version of Dirk, but he still resembled him enough to throw me back into memories of Winston screaming at me. By the time I recovered, so had Winston Sr., who sipped at a glass of what I assumed to be ice water.

“Now, you seem to be under the impression that you’re not beholden to this family. I assure you, you are. You see, Shelby, I’m calling in your debt, redeeming my investment if you will.” He leaned back and laced his fingers over his chest while I tried to digest the bullshit he’d just fed me.

I was so fucked. There was nothing to do but play along, so I nodded, unable to find my voice.

“We’ll reintroduce you to society after a quiet wedding to Rafe.” He’d barely finished when the man himself protested.

“Father! You can’t expect me to actually marry her?” I had to wonder what Rafe knew that I didn't, not that I was the least bit interested in marrying him or anyone else, especially not in the Hamilton family.

“Sit your illegitimate ass down before you find yourself in the same boat as your brother.” Even I paled at the threat. I also couldn't help but notice that he’d admitted Rafe wasn’t his. Or maybe he meant he'd had an affair? “You will marry her, and you’ll pretend you like it!”

Rafe sat, but he wasn’t through. “She’s my sister ,” he hissed, darting a glance in my direction before turning back to Winston Sr.

“Ex-sister-in-law, Rafe, and no, I don’t want to marry you either,” I snarked at him, earning a cane smacking down on the desk for my trouble. Even though I jumped, I managed to keep my glare on both men.

“Don’t concern yourself, Rafe. Your relation to Shelby here won’t matter, blood or otherwise. She whored herself to get into this family. Now, she’ll do her duty and provide me with a suitable heir.”

White noise buzzed in my ears.

If Rafe really was my brother, I wasn’t even going to pretend to go along with this insanity. I did want to know why Mama had been watched, and especially why she'd been killed, supposedly for something my father had done, but if Rafe was one, or both of theirs, how did he end up with Winston Sr.?

Did Mama have sex with Winston Sr. and get pregnant?

As I considered the various possibilities, I became more and more concerned. I wouldn't be forced to… My already shot nerves couldn't handle it. I was going to be sick.

“Do not soil my carpet, girl. Get ahold of yourself,” the old man snapped when I held the back of my hand to my mouth. “Carter, get Gerald in here. Apparently, it’s time to clear a few things up.

***

Shelby

Jerry had come bearing the gift of ginger ale and what I was pretty sure were honest-to-God smelling salts on a silver serving tray.

I sat there, carefully sipping my drink as my mind spun out. I wanted to go home, but I didn’t really have one to go to. The guys came to mind except that was too painful to think about. How much did they know? Would they have told me if they did? Somehow, I didn’t think so, and not only because their hands were tied; my mental health really couldn’t have handled it. Hell, I was barely holding myself together as it was.

I’d lost time and zoned out on whatever they’d spoken about, but I tuned back in when Winston Sr. raised his voice. “Why don’t you tell it, Gerald? After all, you were there and participated.”

I soon understood just how cruel my father-in-law could be, and I’d thought I’d already been well aware. As for Carter and Rafe, they held as still as statues, only there to make sure their puppeteer’s captive audience didn’t escape.

When I glanced at Jerry, who stood with one hand clasping the other in front of him, his guilt and shame warred for supremacy in his gaze. With a little more prompting, Winston Sr. forced him to recount the past.

Swallowing hard, his eyes unfocused as he began what unfolded to be a sordid tale. One that ruined the lives of all it touched.

“I was a young man back then, just over twenty years ago, and had…taken a position—” Jerry stalled, and I nearly stood, wanting to stop whatever the seemingly kind man was being tortured with, until Winston Sr. smacked that damn cane against the desk again.

“Get on with it, Gerald, and tell the truth. You and Rittenhouse had a falling out, and you wanted to partner with me to undercut him. She chose him over you, and you couldn’t stand it. In hindsight, it made sense that she and my wife were so close.” He spat out the word ‘wife’ like it left a bad taste in his mouth. My confusion overrode my anxiety as I attempted to figure out who he was talking about. Twenty years ago, Carter would have been a small child, and he was the only Rittenhouse I was aware of.

Jerry, breaking his careful professional mien, snapped at the old man. “Would you prefer to tell it, sir ?”

Winston Sr. curled his lip, but satisfaction burned in his washed-out eyes. With a wave of his hand, as if he hadn’t already demanded it, he said, “By all means, be my guest.”

“Mrs. Hamilton, Dirk’s mother, had just been brought home. I’d been summoned, I don’t remember by whom, but I was to collect Master Dirk and Master Rafe and take them to her.”

My mouth dropped open, but I covered it as Jerry continued to tell a nightmare of a story.

***

Dirk

The Day He Died

“What do you want?” I demanded of Father, well aware he wouldn't care for my disrespect.

“I’d suggest you watch that mouth of yours, Dirk,” he warned before turning his ire on his golden-boy. “You may excuse yourself, Carter. I need to discuss this with my son in private.”

That wiped the smirk off the man who had dared to fuck my wife—a wife I needed to get back to soon before Milo had all the fun without me. As soon as Carter closed the door behind him, Father turned cold eyes on me. Dread crept up my spine, somewhat dispelling the haze of the narcotics I’d taken.

“I have test results here that have changed the course of your future,” he said, blunt and to the point. I shook my head in an effort to bring the letter into focus. I really shouldn’t have indulged while Father was in the house.

“There seems to be an error.” I looked up, shock causing my extremities to tingle unpleasantly as Father shook his head.

“There is not, though I don’t know why it wasn’t brought to my attention sooner. Providing you haven’t irrevocably damaged your wife with your antics, which, don’t think I haven’t found out about, I will be passing her care off to Carter. I haven’t decided yet whether I will attempt to…supply the necessary material to secure a direct heir or assign the task to Carter. As of today, you no longer hold that position.”

I stared in disbelief at the old bastard who’d ruled my entire life with an iron fist. “No, she’s mine.” I didn’t care what the paper on his desk said. I didn’t want children anyway, so it didn’t matter.

“You will listen to me, or you will be put out of my house and cut off. You defied me to marry the girl, and these are the consequences now that you cannot fulfill your duties. Carter will—”

“She’s mine ! You won’t give her to him,” I warned, already out of my head with what I had to take to cope with my father and my unfaithful wife .

“You’re impotent, Dirk. Someone else has to continue the line. It won’t be Rafe. I won’t allow that bastard James anywhere near my legacy. Do as I say, or Rafe will pay for your refusal.”

I wasn’t so far gone that the madness which crept into my father’s eyes at the mere mention of the man escaped me. The memory of that night flashed through my mind. I tried to fight it, but the drugs that usually kept it at bay let it in.

***

Twenty-One Years Ago

Dirk

Jerry woke me by shaking my shoulder, holding a finger to his lips when I sat up to ask what he needed. It was still night from the darkness beyond my curtains, but as I forced myself awake, he cautioned me to be quiet so as not to wake my little brother. He was asleep against his chest, covered with a small blanket.

“Take your brother, Master Dirk, and keep quiet,” Jerry whispered.

I did as he directed, the questions on the tip of my tongue held silent. The whole house had been under a dark cloud in the weeks since my mother took off, and I’d learned to obey the ‘seen and not heard’ rule I’d outgrown some time ago.

Reading my thoughts, Jerry kept his voice low as he offered a cryptic explanation. “Your mother has returned, and your father is unhappy. Follow me and keep Master Rafe quiet.”

Dread made my feet heavy, but I did as I was told even when the cold grass, wet with dew, itched and chilled my feet. My brother, not yet two, felt like a lead weight in my arms when Jerry ushered me through the door to the brick game shed.

Shock almost made me drop him, and I turned to retreat until a barked command from my father halted my retreat. I drew the blanket up and bundled it around Rafe’s ears in the hopes he wouldn’t wake up. He was a deep sleeper, as I, his self-proclaimed protector, knew since I checked on him regularly, though my father said I was too old to play with babies.

“Dirk, get in here!” my father snapped. “It’s time you learned what we do to those who betray us, and why you should never trust a woman, not even your wife.” His light blue eyes blazed with madness from the shadows.

I stood my ground, keeping my face blank despite my terror at the sight of my mother, her bodyguard James, and an unfamiliar woman with a mass of auburn hair tumbling around her tear streaked face. They were all tied with their hands above them, the ropes anchored on the hangers hooked to the pulley system used to hang game after a hunting party.

The old building was rarely used, but the brick did its job, holding the coolness in even against the heat of summer days. I shivered in my thin nightshirt and pants.

“Yes, sir,” I finally answered when my father continued to stare me down.

Jerry stood beside me as my father ranted, only interrupting himself when I would have turned away, proving that he was paying attention to more than the captive trio.

“You will watch, or that boy is next. Do you understand me, Wintson?”

“Yes, Father.” I would never let him hurt my brother. No matter what.

Jerry moved to shield me the best he could, but from his blank face, he was as unwilling as I to be there. Who knew what my father held over him.

I attempted to tune out my mother’s pleading and curled my arms protectively around my baby brother, giving her the barest of nods when her eyes bore into mine, begging me for what I thought had to be forgiveness and a promise to keep Rafe safe. Or at least that’s what it meant in my young, terrified mind at the time.

“You had everything, whore , but you went behind my back with him?” My father raised his voice with each word until the force of the last was delivered with a shower of spit. My mother winced and rubbed her cheek against her shoulder. Father rounded to get in the face of my mother's bodyguard.

James’ features were swollen with black and blue contusions and red scuffs from his capture, or maybe a combination of that and whatever my father had inflicted since he and my mother were caught.

I didn't understand why I needed to be present, but I knew better than to complain or attempt to intervene on my mother's behalf, not if I wanted to keep my brother safe. I wished she had stayed gone, out of my father's reach, but I knew she'd never have left us, my brother and me.

“Did you think you'd pass off your bastard as my child? How dare you put your hands on my wife!” James had remained quietly stoic until then, to the point I'd thought he might be unconscious, but he roused at the mention of his child.

My eyes widened as realization set in, and I tried not to panic. Looking to my mother, she was frantically shaking her head while my father's back was turned. I didn't know if she was denying the allegation or if she wanted something else, but when I slid back a step and tucked Rafe more securely against my chest, she calmed and closed her eyes before taking a shuddering breath.

“Mr. Hamilton, please—” James attempted to plead in a slurred voice, his mouth too swollen to speak properly.

“Shut your mouth, James, before I do it for you. Again.” The auburn-haired woman cried out from the other side of the room at the threat, causing my father to whirl and advance on her. “Such a shame your philandering husband couldn't keep his hands to himself, Judith. Now I have to repay him in kind. I apologize in advance since wives aren't for this sort of thing, but circumstances warrant, I'm afraid.” She's his wife? I pitied her, but not enough to attempt to intervene and risk my own skin or Rafe's.

I let my eyes lose focus when my father's hands went to unfasten his pants, but I could do nothing to stop my ears from hearing. My mother's pleas drowned out the soft whimpers from James' wife.

“Darling, please, let her be.”

“Don't call me that, whore,” he snapped at her.

She tried again. “Winnie, I made a mistake. Please, let's go in the house and talk about it.”

“It's Winston, whore . Winnie was for my wife, and that's not what you wanted to be, remember?” I held on to the words, letting them play on repeat, horrible as they might have been, to try to tune out the pitiful noises Judith made as my father violated her. James' shouted protests were louder, if garbled.

I hummed a lullaby, the sound rumbling in my throat and chest, keeping Rafe asleep. With my father’s attention elsewhere, Jerry had edged almost all the way in front of us. In hindsight, I should have told him to move.

“Did you not hear me when I told my son to pay attention, Gerald?” I jumped at the boom of my father's voice and woke Rafe up in the process. I tried to shush him back to sleep while Jerry dealt with the repercussions. “Since you wanted to shield him, you can be the example. Make sure he watches so he knows how far we go when someone betrays us. I'm not waiting around to get hard again. I wasn't interested in her in the first place, let alone a second time.”

Jerry stiffened and started to protest until Rafe spied our mother and began to fuss in my arms, wanting to go to her. Tears tracked down her cheeks while I did my best to distract the toddler. He hadn't seen her in weeks and was gearing up for a fit. Jerry looked over his shoulder with an apology on his face.

James resumed his struggle against his bonds while Jerry faced away from everyone near Judith, fumbling with his pants. I dared to watch my father instead as his back was once again to me. His attention went from Jerry, with a scoff, to James, who he stalked over to before striking him across his already battered face.

Watching my father beat James was preferable to seeing Jerry with his hands on himself. I wasn't sure how he was following orders if it meant he was doing what I sometimes did in the privacy of my bathroom at night.

My father switched from James' face to his torso. The blows were muted by the tattered and bloodstained shirt the former bodyguard wore, but his grunts of pain weren't enough to cover the thick sound. When he tired, my father pulled his loose belt from his trousers, and despite James' protests, he proceeded to punish my mother.

Rafe’s exhausted cries went unnoticed beneath her screams and James' hoarse bellows. I only vaguely noticed Jerry behind Judith, her limp body silently jerking every time he moved. It wasn't long before my father ran out of steam with the belt and grabbed something from the built-in counter used to butcher the game.

Ripping his head back by his hair, my father ordered James to look at what he'd caused, then dragged what I could then see was a boning knife across James' neck.

Judith was no longer quiet, her screams of protest even outlasting my mother's.

My mother froze, staring in shock and terror as my father set his sights on her, before she began to beg for her life.

He stepped toward her, bloody knife in hand, and I let my eyes drift closed, gently wrapping the blanket around the back of Rafe’s head, blocking the sights and sounds from him.

I turned to the side, just enough to know if my father would approach me. I'd do whatever necessary to protect my brother, but it didn't come to that. Instead, he barked at me to get “that screaming child” out of his sight.

I left as quickly as possible and kept Rafe in my room for days, only venturing out to get food for us both. The game shed burned that night. After it was cleaned up, and the weakened brick removed, part of a frame was left.

A week later, construction workers showed up and began building a new wing onto the house.

***

Winston’s Office -Present Day

Shelby

“You raped my mother and murdered your own child ?” I gasped in horror.

I retched, barely making it into the trash can Carter was quick to slide in front of me. His hands shook as he held it. As I slumped back into my seat, I vaguely noticed Rafe looked like he was ready to do the same.

“Technically, I did not, but that's neither here nor there. You do not get to speak out of turn, young lady. You're half the reason my son turned into a profligate ! Just like his mother, settling for the help. Seems fitting you'll do the same, though from the ranting Dirk did, you already have.” He eyed Carter, disappointment on his face. “Just as well, I suppose.”

Shock made me slow to understand, but it also protected my mind from completely shutting down. I wasn't so sure I'd ever be okay again.

“Wait, what? You said I was to marry Rafe.” Who I was very concerned could be my brother. I couldn't yet face what the two, no, three of them had done to my mother. Murder was just as bad as… No, I wouldn't go there, but if I was Rafe's sister… I almost heaved again. The old man was clearly sick if he attempted to force it.

“What did I say about speaking out of turn?” Winston Sr. yelled, turning that alarming shade again. I hoped he had a heart-attack on the spot.

Rafe reached out to clamp his hand on my shoulder, a clear warning in his bruising grip. I didn't even mind the pain that time because it was helping to clear my head.

“If you'd been paying attention,” Winston Sr. admonished, “Rafe is only to keep up the appearances that the child will be of Hamilton blood. His is contaminated with your… Well, I suppose he's not really your father, is he?”

He isn't? Oh, oh, no.

I shuddered at the thought of how that could be, though I wasn't a hundred percent sure I wasn't Jerry’s. If Winston Sr. was my sperm donor… I suddenly found my head between my knees.

“Stupid, weak girl, quit your insane muttering and sit up! As I was saying, Rafe won't be providing the material needed, though I’d prefer he use you as well. Employing whores didn't turn out well for his brother. I tried to warn him.” Winston Sr. seemed to slightly lose track of what he was saying, and I briefly wondered if he regretted Dirk's death before he blinked and resumed his bullshit about Rafe. “It will do him good to keep you in line, and it won't matter where he puts it once you carry my heir.

“As for your being related to me, I'm not your father. Gerald is. Good thing, too, as I won't have James’ bloodline inheriting my fortune. It's bad enough that my whore of a wife's so-called protectors will receive the honor through their son, but he's proven he's more mine than theirs now.”

I had trouble tracking that until I remembered him saying Carter would father a child, then I blanched again at the implications of how much I still didn't know.

If I’d gathered it all correctly, Jerry had wanted Carter's mother. Carter had lost his family over my father, or James, rather. I was so sick and confused, not to mention traumatized again by Dirk doing what he’d done to me in that room. He'd all but said his mother was killed in there, but… I shuddered as my mind spun, but I attempted to hold my composure in front of my psychotic father-in-law.

It certainly wasn’t any better if I was somehow related to Carter. Surely that couldn't be a thing Winston Sr. would do? I absolutely had to consider it when he'd killed his own child. He'd hated my father badly enough to kill him, as well as his own wife.

I realized I could very well be next on his list, or anyone in the room for that matter, and then I panicked about the guys. Carter had warned me that I wasn't free. An involuntary whimper escaped me.

“Would someone shut her up? If I didn't need her—parts, I'd do it permanently. And no, I did not dispose of my useless child. Carter handled the mess for me. Do keep up. I don't need an incompetent heir. I already had one of those—” Winston Sr. ended his rant when a knock interrupted him.

I saw just a hint of a servant's uniform behind Nina, who breezed in like she owned the place. She was…heavily pregnant?

“Could this get any worse?” Rafe complained under his breath. I looked at him then, to find he was still very shell-shocked, and took the opportunity to yank one of his fingers back until it cracked. “Fuck,” he hissed, shaking his hand out, removing it from my shoulder in the process.

I ignored the asshole and turned just in time to see the smug grin slide off of Nina's face when Winston Sr. told her to get out. I hadn’t thought I'd ever have to see the scheming, horrid woman again, but there she was, claiming… “You stupid female,” I muttered.

She heard me, though, and took the chance to sneer at me. “I don't know what you're yapping about. I'm carrying Dirk's child, not you .”

Livid, Winston Sr. was banging his cane against the desk while struggling to speak. “I don't know what you thought to accomplish, Ms. Gray, but coming into my house uninvited, trying to pass that off as my grandchild, will be your final mistake.”

“What are you talking about? This is Dirk's child! I'll even take a test to prove it.” Either she was delusional, which tracked, or she'd been lied to, which also meant my husband had still been fucking her.

Winston Sr. arched a silver brow. “My son was impotent, Ms. Gray.” I didn't understand why he readily admitted that to her.

“No,” she denied him. “He said—” The blood drained from her face as she mouthed a name I never wanted to hear again.

A flash of him digging inside me only to rip me open as he promised to fix me like he did Nina streaked across my mind.

She was carrying Milo’s child, and she'd just seemed to realize that herself. Fear took over her disbelief when Winston Sr. sicced his lap dog on her.

“Carter, remove Ms. Gray. I trust she won't be an issue again.” He was nonchalant as Nina struggled against the hands gripping her arms, screaming as Carter dragged her from the room. I hated her, Milo too, but he couldn't mean what I thought he did. “Now,” he said, addressing the rest of us as if nothing had happened, “before you get worked up again , you are Gerald's child, not mine.”

He didn't understand my additional distress was for an innocent child and what he'd ordered Carter to do—I doubted it even registered for him. Although Jerry being my father was a blow, more from the abuse he'd given my mother than anything else, I was just relieved I wasn't Winston Sr.’s. I'd have thrown up again.

My chest heaved as I struggled to get enough air in. I shook my head, not in denial, but in sheer panic. I was going to pass out.

He stood and leaned heavily on his cane, annoyance clear in his tone as he left the room. “I assure you, I took the liberty of having the paternity verified,” he said as the door closed, leaving me alone with my…father and fiancé.

Of course you did, you self-righteous prick. I hope you get a paper cut and drop dead from sepsis, you no good, misogynistic—

Shhh… This is not the time. Wait, you're back?! Fuck, am I dead?

No, that's Nina, stupid girl. Pay attention.

“Miss Shelby, are you alright?” Jerry asked, poised with the smelling salts.

“Ha! Would you be? Wouldn't be surprised if she's not fucking nuts after that shit show,” Rafe so helpfully added, but he wasn't wrong

“I think I'm crazy again,” I managed to rasp, locking eyes with the asshole who just shrugged.

We'll deal with him once you wake up.

Wake up?

Pay attention, girly. Your ass is about to pass out.

Oh. I guess I am. I'm glad you're back.

Of course you are. You can't handle shit without me.