The Dirty Series 2(28)

“You can call me whatever you want.”

“Have you talked to your father yet?”



The ride up to my father’s floor seems endless, but Quinn holds my hand tightly in hers all the way up, standing by my side in comfortable silence.

My heart pounds.

My father will have heard the news by now, if he didn’t see it being broadcast live. He and his staff don’t miss much.

So I’m not surprised when his secretary stares up at me from her seat, then inclines her head toward the door.

I take both Quinn’s hands in mine outside the entrance to his office and kiss her gently.

“I’ll wait out here,” she says softly, then gives me an encouraging smile.

As I go into my father’s office, I hear his secretary already remembering her manners. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

Quinn’s reply is cut off as I close the door behind me.

It takes an enormous effort to look up from my shoes and into my father’s eyes.

When I do, I get the shock of a lifetime.

He doesn’t look angry.

In fact, he’s smiling at me, with tears in his eyes.

“Dad?” I say, my voice choked.

He gets up from behind his desk, crosses the space between us, and enfolds me in his arms.

“Eli,” he says softly, and I hug him back. “You’ve returned.”

“What?” I say, pulling back so I can look into his eyes. “You knew it was me all along?”

He laughs, stepping back to put a little breathing room between us. “I was there the moment you were born, Elijah. Did you think I would forget which one of my sons was which?”

I am overwhelmed with confusion. “But why did you—”

“Let this little game of yours go on so long?” He shakes his head. “I never expected it to last a decade, for one. There were many times I thought I might—I thought I might say something, give myself away, but every time, I held back.”

“Why?”

He puts a hand to his mouth and thinks for a moment before he answers. “Losing a child was the worst thing that ever happened to me,” he says, his voice low and soft. “I can’t imagine what it was like to lose an identical twin. Your grief must have been—it must have been overpowering.

“At first I thought it was something you’d snap out of, but as the months went by and became years, it just seemed like something you needed to do.”

My mouth drops open. The lengths my father has gone to to indulge me in this are beyond what anyone could expect from any father.

“But…you had him buried under my name.”

“I did,” he says, and I realize this might very well be the first time he’s ever admitted it out loud to anyone. “I did do that. Seems pretty fucked up, doesn’t it?” My father grins despite the tears in his eyes. “I guess I’m…what, an accomplice?”

“You didn’t have to do that.” The lump in my throat threatens to turn to tears.

“I did. Because one of my sons was still alive, and for whatever reason, he needed to be his brother.”

I turn away, covering my eyes with my hands. “You always…you always liked him better.”

“What can I say? I was an asshole when you were growing up. But I didn’t like him better. I just wanted you to enjoy the things we enjoyed. It was a bad way to go about it.”

“Yeah, it was,” I agree heartily, and we both laugh. “Jesus Christ. I am in such deep shit.”

“No doubt about that, son,” my dad says, and despite everything, I feel relieved.

“I can’t believe you let me get away with that for a decade.”

My father is silent for a moment, and then he looks me straight in the eye. “As ridiculous as it sounds…it was a way for me to have both of my sons. At least for a while.”

I look toward the ceiling and consider the pair of us, each devastated by the loss of my brother, each reacting in what might have been the most idiotic way possible. “Damn, do we need therapy.”

We laugh at that for a long time.

My gut is aching with laughter, but when it finally subsides, I have one more thing to say to my father.

“Dad, remember when we had that conversation about finding a good woman?”

“Yes?” His brow wrinkles.

“Well, she didn’t exactly keep me out of the gossip sites. I fucked that one up.”

“I’d say. That press conference is going to be pretty hard to spin.”

I wave that comment away. We can talk about all that later, but even so, I’m not worried about Pierce Industries. If anything, the extra coverage will boost its stock price.

“The important thing is…” My voice trails off. I’m relishing this moment so much that I’m already nostalgic for it.