Being Me(Inside Out 02)(73)

He’s calling my father? Why is he calling my father? I reach
for the door to stop him, then I hesitate. I know how vicious
Michael is. He’ll say horrible things to me in front of Chris, and Chris will flatten him regardless of later consequences. I bite my lip and lean against the wall, squeezing my eyes shut and waiting for what will happen next.
“Give me about, oh, sixty seconds,” Blake replies, and I can
hear him typing through the speaker. He’ll never be able to get
it. It’s unlisted. I don’t even have the damn number. Blake proves me wrong in less than sixty seconds. It’s more like thirty seconds when he calls out the number “—. Anything else?”
“Not at the moment,” Chris replies. “I’ll be in touch.” The
line goes dead and Chris snorts, imitating Michael. “I guess I’m
lucky.”
Michael barks out a laugh. “Call him. He’ll bury you and
your perverted self under a rock you’ll never climb out from
under.”
“Will he now?” Chris asks. “I’m predicting you’ll be the one
buried under a rock.” There is a pause when I assume the phone
is ringing and I hold my breath, waiting to see if my father will
answer. “Thomas McMillan, this is Chris Merit. That’s right. The
artist who is dating Sara.” There is a silence and Chris makes an
amused sound. “Really. That rich. That’s really not all that rich.
Right.” Another pause. “I’m not one to throw around wallet sizes
but you just won’t stop going there so I’ll go with you. Add a
‘filthy’ to the front of that rich, and that’s how rich I am. In other words, your threats to crush me don’t scare me.”

As impossible as it seems, I find myself smiling at the reference to me asking him if he was filthy rich, but it fades and
burns quickly. This is my father Chris is talking to. My father,
who some part of me wanted to believe isn’t a part of this with
Michael but is. It’s clear that he is.
“We’re still comparing wallets? Okay, then. Yes, that’s right.
I make a few million a year for my art, which you make sound
like nothing. Fortunately, the charities I donate it to don’t take it for granted the way you apparently do. You should have had your boy Michael here find out more than my personal habits when he was digging around before you decided to threaten me. My
banker is Rob Moore at Chase Bank in San Francisco. Call him
and he’ll confirm just how much money I have to blow. And
there is nothing I’d like to blow it on more than ruining you and
your pal Michael here, who seems to think ‘no’ means ‘yes’ when
it comes to putting his hands on Sara.” There is a silence when, I assume, my father is talking, then Chris adds, “I really don’t care what you believe happened or didn’t happen. If Michael ever comes near Sara again, I will ruin him and you with him. I’m sending Michael back to you now. And Mr. McMillan, I didn’t understand until tonight why Sara would walk away from her life. Now I do. She doesn’t need you or your money. She has me,
and I’ll take far better care of her than you ever did.”
Frozen against the wall, I hug myself, bleeding and healing at
the same time. My father … Chris … my father … I remember being a little girl eager to see him, hoping he’d come home. But he was never home with us. Home. That word still haunts me.
“Are we done here?” Michael asks.
“You were done before you ever got here,” Chris replies.

“Sorry, sir, but you can’t leave until we finish our paper—
work,” I hear an unfamiliar voice say from inside the room, and
I’m surprised Chris has allowed someone else in the room.
“This is ridiculous,” Michael growls. “I did nothing wrong.”
“It’s protocol, sir. All security action must be properly docu—
mented.”
My stomach twists in knots just hearing Michael’s voice and
I fight the memories threatening to take shape. Why can’t they
just go back in the hole where I buried them? That place where
two years ago didn’t exist.
Footsteps sound on the opposite side of the door, and I turn
as it opens and Chris appears, his blond hair rumpled, as if he’s
been running his hands through it. His green eyes fall on me and
the hard glint in their depths softens instantly. He pulls the door shut behind him and drags me against him, murmuring softly, “I understand why you left. I understand everything.”