A Deep and Dark December(85)

“No,” Graham whispered. The enormity of everything in his life being stripped away from him brought him to his knees.

And Erin too. Was what they’d shared even real? Had she confided in him because she’d trusted him or because he’d unknowingly compelled her to do it? Had she gone to bed with him because she wanted him or was it because he wanted her? Had he, in a sense, raped her?

“No,” he moaned, dropping to all fours in the rocky soil. He couldn’t catch his breath. Blackness crowded his vision. He gripped the soil, the rocks biting into his flesh the only real things left for him.

His father’s feet appeared in his hazed line of sight. “You’ll come to accept your power, develop it, and use it. I’ll teach you as my father taught me.”

“I don’t want it!”

“How could you not want your God given gift? How could you not grow it and use it as He intended?”

“God given?” Graham staggered to his feet, a rising, churning tide of anger swelling within him. “What you did was not sanctioned by God or anyone else. You killed people. You killed your own child!”

“Grown or not, you don’t get to talk to me like that.” Ham reached out to put a shaky hand on Graham’s shoulder. “Son—”

Graham jerked away. “Don’t call me that. Don’t ever touch me again.”

“You don’t mean that.” Ham took a wobbly step forward. “You’re in shock. I was just like you—”

“You’re nothing like me.” He couldn’t believe this was the man who’d raised him. Who’d showed him how to shoot a gun, catch a pass, and build a fort. The man who’d taught him right from wrong, for f*ck’s sake.

He turned away from his father and caught sight of Erin still on the ground as though she was injured or couldn’t get up. His face burned with shame. He’d never be able to look her in the eye again, knowing he’d taken away her free will. He’d never be able to hold her and kiss her without wondering if she really welcomed his attentions. Wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, he swallowed back the vomit that climbed the back of his throat.

He moved toward Erin and knelt down. He wanted to touch her, hold her, and tell her everything would be all right. But he no longer had the right. He balled his fists at his sides. “Are you okay?”

Her lips were still pressed together as though glued shut. He realized that she’d hardly moved an inch since he’d arrived.

He turned back to his father, pointing at Erin. “What have you done to her?”

“Go home, son. Let me deal with this.”

“Release her. Now!”

“I’m not going to do that. Our legacy is a closely guarded secret. I can’t let her go. She’s your Eve. She’ll tempt you away from your true purpose, your calling.”

Graham lunged at his father, grasping the man’s shirt in his fists. “Let her go or I swear to God—”

“Do not use the Lord’s name in vain!” Ham gasped, his cheeks flamed red, his eyes bulging and red-rimmed.

Graham shook him. “Let her go!”

“No. Go home.”

And then he knew. Ham was going to kill Erin. His skin was suddenly too tight to contain the rage that boiled and swelled within him. Before he realized what he meant to do, he’d pulled his gun and pointed it at Ham’s head. He pressed it against the man’s temple.

“Let. Her. Go.”

Ham’s eyes widened and he went a slack. “Son—”

He twisted his fist, bunching Ham’s shirt tighter against his throat. “I told you not to call me that anymore,” he said, pushing the words through gritted teeth. “You’re nothing to me.”

“You…you don’t mean that. You’re just—”

“Don’t tell me what I am! You don’t get to tell me anything ever again.” He brought Ham closer, raising him up by the shirt until Ham’s feet barely touched the ground. “Let her go. Now!”

Erin gasped for breath behind him. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

“You’re making…a mistake,” Ham panted. “She knows too much. She knows our secret.”

He pressed the nozzle of the gun harder against Ham’s temple. “My only mistake was believing in you.”

“Graham.” Erin’s voice was weak, but brought a flood of relief to him.

She was all right.

“I’m still your father,” Ham rasped.

“You’re nothing but a lying, cheating murderer.”

Erin struggled to her feet. With one hand pressed to her neck, she put a gentle hand on Graham’s shoulder. “Graham.”

He flinched from the contact. He’d never really be sure if her touch was real, if anything between them was or would ever be real. Ham’s revelation had stripped him of everything. He’d never be able to do anything, get close to anyone without wondering if it was really his or not.

“Go home, Erin.”

“I can’t.”

He couldn’t see her, but he knew she was crying. He fought the urge to pull her into his arms by twisting a little harder on Ham’s shirt. Ham’s cane clattered to the ground as he grabbed Graham’s wrist. Graham didn’t want Erin to see him like this. She must already think him a monster, wondering the same things he had about their relationship, doubting everything they’d shared.