A Brutal Betrayal(72)

“Megan?” Declan asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“I…uh…yeah,” she mumbled, trying to come back to the present.

“Why you are…how did you…” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He looked at her, his eyes penetrating hers. He was scared, frightened, worried, and hopeful.

“It wasn’t a game, was it?” she asked even though she knew the answer. She needed to hear his words.

“No. God, Meg, I wish I could change a lot in my life, but you’re the one thing I would give up everything for. It was never a game. You were never a game. It was all the cruelty of fate, karma maybe. My punishment for what I’ve done. Hurt the one person I loved the most over and over again.” His mouth was running a mile a minute. It broke Megan’s heart to hear his words. It broke her heart to know they were true.

“You truly didn’t remember what you had done?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I didn’t remember any bad things in my life, that included.”

“Would it have made a difference?”

“I…uh…I’m not sure,” he answered her. “Would it have made the difference of me falling for you, probably not. But I would have stayed away from you, not allowed myself to hurt you yet again.”

She nodded and then told him, “Describe that night to me.”

“Meg, please. I don’t-”

She cut him off, “I know those details, Dec. I want to know the moments surrounding your decision.”

“I…” He seemed to be thinking before a confused look appeared on his face. “I can’t. I don’t remember them all. You have to believe me, Meg. As much as it hurts me, I’ll give you anything you ask. Any answer you need, but I can’t remember that. I know it was an initiation to The Crew. I know it made me sick. I know I hated every minute even when my traitorous body didn’t. But, the conversations beforehand, they don’t exist in my mind.”

“Your dad.” Megan spoke, changing the subject.

“Huh?” Declan asked.

“Your dad came to see me last night.”

“Mr. Connors,” Megan said surprised as she opened the door for Declan’s dad.

“Mike,” he corrected her.

“Yes, sorry, Mike. Is everything okay? Linda? Is she fine? Declan?” She hated that she cared if he was okay or not, but she did. She figured the worst was happening if his dad had come to visit her. Please don’t let him have gone back to drugs, she prayed, or worse. She shivered a little at the thought of what “worse” would entail.

“Oh, uh, yes, everyone is fine, physically speaking. May I come in?”

“Oh, sure, yes,” she said as she opened the door wider and let him in. He walked over to the couch but didn’t sit down, just turned and waited for her to come closer.

It was unnerving having Declan’s dad in her home. He looked like an older version of Declan and that was disconcerting in and of itself, but she wasn’t sure how much he knew about her, about Declan, about their past. She was afraid she’d have to walk on eggshells with whatever conversation they were about to have.

“Can I get you anything? Water maybe?” she asked.

“No, no thank you. I just need to speak with you,” he said as she sat down on the chair and then he sat on the couch facing her.

“Mr. Connors, er, Mike, I have to admit that I’m a little nervous,” Megan stated.

“Understandable.” He nodded. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m all right,” she said as she furrowed her eyebrows. So that meant he knew that things between her and Declan were over, but that didn’t mean he knew any more than that.

“I know what he did.” His dad spoke quietly, a forlorn expression crossing his features. That got her attention. She narrowed her eyes, suspicion finding space in the crevices of her mind. “I know what he did to you almost eight years ago.”

She gasped and raised her hand to her mouth. She hadn’t expected that at all. What did he think of his son now?

“I found out shortly after it happened,” he admitted, and Megan felt the tears running down her cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak, to rage at him for doing nothing if he knew back then, for allowing Declan to go free, but nothing came out.

“You hate me for keeping silent,” he stated. She didn’t want to and found herself shaking her head. “No, no, don’t deny it. I hated myself too.” Then why didn’t you do anything? she thought to herself. Because he is your son and you love him, she answered her own question. The pity, the sorrow written across his features, was apparent. The pain in his voice was clear. He had been given a choice himself – turn his own son in or stay silent. She couldn’t fault him for choosing silence. It was his son, his only remaining son after all.