The Institute, Daddy Issues(51)

Salt had no prob­lem do­ing our job but it oc­curred to me now that though he could get plenty rough with male sus­pects, I had never seen him treat a fe­male with any­thing but gentle firm­ness, even if she was angry or ab­us­ive to­wards him. It was one of the things I liked about him—that in­nate gen­tle­man­li­ness. Now I un­der­stood the root of it.

“I sup­pose this is why,” Salt said a bit stiffly.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“Is not easy to talk about,” he ac­know­ledged. “But all the same, I am glad you know, Andi.”

“I guess…I’m glad too,” I said hes­it­antly. “It does ex­plain some things. Al­though it raises a lot of ques­tions too.”

“Such as?” He lif­ted one eye­brow quiz­zically. “Ask. I will not be angry.”

“Did you really kill your own father?” I asked in a low voice. “I mean, I can ab­so­lutely un­der­stand why if you did but I just never… never knew.”

“Of course you did not know,” he said simply. “I have never told any­one here.”

“How…why…” I shook my head. “Never mind. For­get I asked.”

“He was go­ing after my sis­ters,” Salt said and his deep voice was a growl. “I was six­teen. Beat­ing me was no fun for him any­more—I just stood there and took it.”

“Salt…” I whispered, but I couldn’t reach him. He had stopped mas­sa­ging my feet and there was a far away look in his eyes, as though he were re­liv­ing the old hor­ror all over again.

“He had already driven my old­est sis­ter from home—Havela, only two years younger than me.” Salt’s big hands were clenched into fists now. “I could not stop this—I could not save her. But then he went after the other two—Tatyana and Liliya. They were so young—only twelve and el­even.”

“How did it hap­pen?” I asked softly.

“We were at top of stairs. Very steep. My sis­ters’ door was there and they were hid­ing in­side their room—I could hear them cry­ing. They feared my father—we all did.” Salt’s ac­cent had got­ten even deeper—I thought it was a won­der he was still talk­ing in Eng­lish at all in­stead of slip­ping back into Rus­sian.

“Were you between him and the door?” I asked.

He nod­ded. “Da—I was. He told me to get out of the way or he would kill me. He was scream­ing that my little sis­ters were noth­ing but shlukha—whores. He said he would beat the whor­ing out of them. My mother was cry­ing and beg­ging.” He paused for a mo­ment and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I knew if he got past me, into my sis­ters’ room, he would beat them…and most likely rape them as well.”

I sucked in a breath. “Oh, no!”

“Yes,” he said grimly. “This was real reason that Havela ran away. I had gone to find her that af­ter­noon—she was hid­ing in a house where the girls were for sale. She told me…” He took a deep breath. “Told me that she might as well get paid for it. That it was bet­ter to give to strangers than to have her own father take. She would not come back with me.” He shook his head. “I did not blame her. I did not pro­tect her as I should—but I could not let him hurt Tatyana and Liliya this way as well.”

“Oh, Salt…” I shook my head. “What happened? Did you, uh, push him down the stairs?”

“I beat him.” He looked at me un­flinch­ingly. “My father was big man—as big as I am now. At six­teen at last I was get­ting my growth—fi­nally big enough to fight him.” He shrugged. “And so…I did. He was still big­ger than me but he was drunk—very drunk. I was quicker than he was. But once…” He took a deep breath. “Once I star­ted beat­ing…I could not stop. Even after my mother tried to pull me off, I could not stop.”

“You were angry,” I said quietly. “You had a right to be.”

“I lost con­trol. But I was not sorry.” He shook his head. “Any­way, after he was dead—then we push him down the stairs to make look like ac­ci­dent. My sis­ters helped. They were cry­ing—my mother too. But I could not.”

“You were prob­ably in shock,” I said.