Flock (The Ravenhood Duet #1)(97)
“Why?” I cry out, breathless. “Why?”
“We were trying to make a point, and we fucking failed miserably.”
“You ruined everything,” I’m unable to keep a lone tear from slipping. “I’ll never look at you the same.”
He tracks the tear sliding down my cheek. “I have to let you go for now,” he grimaces, and for the first time since that night we spent alone, his emotion shines through. “But I don’t fucking want to.”
He leans in again and presses a kiss to my forehead before releasing me.
The slash across my chest is enough to have me in full preservation mode. “Stay the fuck away from me.”
“I don’t have a choice. But everything I do now, it’s for you.”
“You’re right. You don’t have a choice. And make no mistake, it’s my decision.”
I stalk back toward my car and tear out of the parking lot, refusing to look back.
When I get home, I take a scalding shower but deny the raging in my chest. I let my tears blend with the water, but refute their existence—my decision.
HALFWAY THROUGH MY FIRST SHIFT back at the plant, I get summoned over the PA system. Pausing our line, I feel the full weight of Melinda’s attention. It’s been hours of working in silence, it seems even she couldn’t ignore my need for solace, and she let me retreat inside myself during this shift, which only further alludes to the fact I look as broken as I feel. I feign ignorance of why I’m being called off the line, but we both know better.
I’m done playing games. I march down the corridor of the first floor into the secluded office at the end of the hall batting away the memories it dredges up—stolen kisses, lingering looks over private lunches, a late shift quickie with his hand clamped over my mouth while he thrust into me, whispering filthy words in my ear. Closing the door, I lean against it and keep my gaze averted. Eyes cast down, his tan boots come into view, and I exhale just as the scent of cedar threatens to cloud my judgment.
“Baby, please look at me.” His voice is hoarse, dragging nails across the rawness in my chest. “Baby, please, please look at me.”
I don’t.
“Cecelia, you are the secret.” This confession demands my attention, and I finally look up. He looks destroyed, his complexion gaunt, dark circles prominent beneath his eyes. I’ve never seen him so distraught. Empathy wins the war with my silent tongue. I love this man, even if falling for him was a mistake.
“What in the hell is going on?”
He steps forward and captures my face in his hands. “We didn’t mean it. You have to know that.”
I shrink away from his touch, and he curses.
“I don’t know anything.”
“You know a lot more than you think you do. But the first thing you need to know was that it was a knee-jerk decision to bring you in the day we met, but I just fucking couldn’t… God, the moment I laid eyes on you—”
He leans in and I turn my head. “Why am I the secret?”
He expels a breath. His obvious hesitation has me bracing myself against the door.
“We didn’t mean it, Cecelia.”
“Just tell me why you brought me in here.”
“Okay.” He nods solemnly. “Okay. Years ago, when Horner Technologies was mainly a chemical plant, two immigrants from France, a husband and wife, died in a fire in one of the testing labs.” He holds my stare as the implication of what he’s saying dawns on me. I gape at him, tears threatening when I realize who those immigrants were.
“Dominic’s parents?”
He nods.
“They’d fled from France in an attempt to escape her ex-husband, and because they were so desperate, they accepted an invitation from an estranged relative to start a new life here.”
“Delphine.”
He nods and continues. “So they came here, to this town, to work in this plant thinking they would be safer, that here they would thrive, start living the American dream and all that entailed. Instead, they were exploited by this company and its owner because of their social disadvantage and eventually perished in a fire no one is sure was accidental. We still haven’t pieced together exactly what happened, but it was fucked up and reeked of foul play from the way it was handled afterward. Your father covered it up, swept it under the rug. He did the bare minimum for Dominic and offered nothing but a formal letterhead addressed apology included in the settlement summary. A slap in the face after the fact, especially with the CEO being a local. The local news didn’t even cover it, Cecelia. There was nothing in the papers, either.”
“But why?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Delphine was outraged, but she was young, and at the time too afraid to go head to head with Roman. Something happened that night, and he buried it. And we’re determined to find out what.”
This rattles me to my core. “You’re saying my dad may have covered up a murder, two murders, here, at this plant?”
“Not sure, but Dom’s parents weren’t the first to ever question your father’s business practices. Your father has been pulling a lot of shit for a very, very long time and getting away with it.”
“So, you’re spying on him? Working here to find out the truth?”