18. Scott

18

SCOTT

I was not letting Hannah dart off and leave again for months on end. I called and left her a long voicemail, apologizing for my behavior last night. “There’s no excuse. I was an asshat of the highest caliber. I’d like to make it up to you with another dinner, at our place. Please, Hannah.”

I was not above a little begging either.

Minutes later, a thumbs up emoji appeared in a text from Hannah. I punched the air, feeling a decade younger, and called both Ryland and Arthur. “Hannah’s coming over again tonight.” Glee infused my bones and set my feet to dancing across the lacquered floor.

We were all anxiously waiting for her when she rang the bell three hours later. Deena had left for the night, more than happy to turn the house over to us once she realized Hannah was returning.

Arthur answered her press on the doorbell and walked her into the dining room where we’d set up a cozy dinner. She approached with a hesitant step and no Liddy at her side. An ill feeling wrenched through my stomach. “Is everything all right? Where’s Liddy?”

Hannah plucked at her sleeve. Anxiety bled over her features, whitening her skin and turning her blue eyes lifeless. “I need to tell you all something.”

My stomach dropped so fast bile burst into my throat. “That usually means something ominous.”

She nodded despite my attempt at a joke. “If we’re going to be spending time together, and I really like spending time with all of you, then I have to be honest.”

Great. Conversations that started like that were never good. “Don’t tell me.” I closed my eyes and held up one hand in a stop motion. “You stole my underwear and sold them on eBay.”

A startled noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh burst from her. “I wish it was that simple.”

I led her to a chair and nudged her into sitting. “As Arthur would say, ‘Let’s have it then.’” I put on a fake British accent and looked down my nose at her.

“I wish you’d take this seriously.”

“Why? You’re taking it seriously enough for all of us.” I sat across from her. “We’re listening.”

Arthur and Ryland joined us, sitting on either side of Hannah. With a deep breath and what sounded like a prayer, she pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and held it out to me. “I found this while cleaning.”

I took the bent, battered paper, and smoothed it across my knee, discovering an old photo of Henry, his daughter, and the three of us standing together. Confusion twisted Ryland and Arthur’s faces, an emotion I also felt. “What’s this?” I raised the photo and peered closer. “Is it me, or does she look a lot like Liddy?”

Hannah sank her teeth into her bottom lip, biting so hard I expected to see blood. “When Dad passed, I lost most of my pictures of him. Which is why it came as a shock to discover this.” She tapped the photo with a shaking finger. “That’s my dad. He’s the same Henry you went to college with.”

Arthur tore the photo from my grasp, almost ripping it in half. “Not possible.” He bent over the picture, taking a closer look. “You found this here?” He examined it front and back. “I know this picture. I remember when it was taken.”

“I don’t, but that’s not unusual since I was only three.” Hannah lifted her chin. That resolute look brought light and life back to her eyes. “This photo is why I left.”

Ryland took the picture from Arthur. He squinted at it, then at Hannah. “They look remarkably alike, this girl and Liddy. You’re sure this is your father? You were young when he passed.”

“I’m sure.” Hannah stood and paced. “I may have lost most of my pictures but not all of them. And I remember his face. This is my dad. I’m the girl in the picture. That’s why I had to leave.”

Denial felt like a death toll in my gut, a pinching around my heart, and a desperate plea all in one.

“You all shared women before.” Hannah walked to the far side of the room, turning her back to us like she couldn’t bear the sight of us. “I’ve worried and wondered if one of you could be my biological father.”

Relief drove a laugh out of me. It hit hard and fast with such a flurry of emotion that it drove me to my feet and over to Hannah. “That’s not possible.”

“Why not?” She wheeled around. “Arthur said you shared in college. That’s when Dad met Mom.”

“Henry never participated.” I held her shoulders, keeping her upright when she slumped forward with a hopeful half-smile. I rushed to reassure her. “Henry was enamored with your mom from the minute he first saw her. He threatened to murder us if we even looked at her. Even if he did share other women—which he didn’t—he’d never, ever have shared her. They were perfect soulmates.”

“He didn’t?” Hannah blinked hard. She leaned past me. “Arthur?”

“He’s telling the truth.” Arthur’s clipped words daggered the air. “Henry was a traditionalist. I thought I’d told you that already, that he never participated with us.”

Ryland joined the conversation, all three of us rushing to reassure Hannah. “He was so in love with her that he refused to even introduce us to her until we’d all promised not to even think about asking her to bed. He was afraid he’d lose her, and he couldn’t stand that thought.”

Hannah leaned harder into my hands, her slender fingers wrapping around my wrists. Her pulse ran rampant in her neck, and she drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “He always talked about her like she was the best thing to ever happen to him.”

“She was.” I let the years roll back and bring my memories to the forefront. “Your dad was a great man. He loved her like nothing else mattered. Until you came along. Then he loved you the same way. You were his entire world. He never wanted you to suffer a cold, much less the tragedy of losing your mother and then him.”

“He would hate us for losing track of you.” Ryland traced the edge of the photo with one finger, then set it down on the table. “Our grief was no match for yours, and it’s no excuse for letting so much time pass that you forgot about us.”

“We never forgot about you, though.” I dipped my head to meet her eyes. “We lost track of you. That’s on us.”

“I’m glad you told us what was bothering you.” Ryland shifted closer. “We could have put your fears to rest months ago if you’d told us.”

“I was scared.” The tremble in her voice tore at me. “I didn’t know what to think.”

“Knowing you carried this around, the possibility that one us could be your father…” I let the sentence trail off as all the implications sank in. She’d been concerned about incest. I understood now why she’d backed away but we’d wasted so much time because of a misunderstanding that could have been remedied immediately had she told us. It annoyed the shit out of me. “Can we all take this as a lesson moving forward to talk about things instead of making assumptions?”

“What do you mean?” Hannah sniffled and dabbed at her nose. Ryland handed her a tissue.

Arthur retreated to the far side of the room. The silent stare held a world of hurt and something I had no name for.

“We need to talk about shit, that’s what I mean.” I released one hand and pointed at the picture. “If you’d asked about it when you’d first found it, we’d be past this already. You wouldn’t have spent so much time worrying over nothing.”

“You could have stayed here instead of running away.” Ryland, in a rare show of abject seriousness that rivaled Arthur, sat on the corner of the desk, stretching his legs out and crossing his ankles. “Assumptions get you nowhere. Truth does. Questions do. All you had to do was ask. There’s no shame in asking.”

“And if you’d asked, everything would be all right now.” I wouldn’t have drowned myself in alcohol. Months of lying awake at night feeling desperate and alone. It sucked. I’d never felt anything like that before, and I never wanted to again.

Hannah started to smile. “You’re right. I just…” She shrugged. “I worried you would think I was using it as a ruse and did it on purpose or something.”

“Why the fuck would we think that?” Ryland asked.

Hannah flung her hands out. “I don’t know. I was scared and upset.”

“But it’s over now, right?” I stepped closer and hugged her. She curled into me in that familiar way, fitting her head beneath my chin and locking her arms around my waist.

“Are you all bloody insane?” Arthur stalked over, his hands deep in his pockets, his jaw hard enough to carve ice. “Nothing is over. It’s just beginning.”

“What are you talking about?” Ryland intercepted Arthur halfway across the room. Arthur glared at me. The look was a warning that I ignored.

“None of this is right. We never should have slept with Hannah.”

“Why?” Hannah’s question puffed out in a raspy breath.

“Why?” Arthur stabbed a finger into Ryland’s shoulder. “We swore to protect her, that’s why. We promised Henry that we would do anything to look out for her. We failed.” He poked Ryland again and Ryland let him. He knew better than to try it on me. I’d poke—or punch—right back. “We failed her, then we fucked her. We’ve been fucking Henry’s fucking daughter.”

Hannah turned to stone in my arms. I’d already realized the point Arthur made, but he seemed to be taking it a little too much to heart. “Bit late to be torn up about that now. We didn’t know.” I had no idea Hannah could stiffen further, until she did. It was like holding a tree trunk.

“Nothing about this is okay. Not one bit of it. We know now. We cannot take back what we’ve done, but you can take your fucking hands off Henry’s daughter and give her the respect he would demand. He’d be appalled at all of us.” Arthur’s face went bone white, even his lips turned bloodless. “We are all a bunch of horrid wankers.”

Stunned silence took over every inch of the room. Even the space between me and Hannah grew turbulent with Arthur’s outburst.

I had no intention of letting her go.