Chapter 48 - Dane's Final Truth - Part 3

Dane

"Problem?" Dane was grief-stricken, confused, and so angry. "What problem?"

"The last person your sister was seen with, was you."

Dane's stomach had gone cold. Dane had dropped her off at the house last night, though he didn't know who would have seen them. "And?" he asked.

"And you're the one who found her today. Dead."

"Because we had plans! I went to find her when she didn't answer."

"You gained entry to her apartment. How?"

Dane blinked. "The door was already unlocked. Left open—"

"Convenient," the Detective commented.

Dane glared at him. "It's the truth."

The Detective shrugged. "You have quite the story here. And the only person who can confirm it is…you. Is it true you tried to blackmail your father yesterday and he refused you?"

Dane's mouth fell open. He'd been so naïve. So stupid. So… "You talked to him?"

"He called us this morning, even before we reached out. And we found that he had quite the story to tell."

"He's lying."

"That's interesting, because he says you are. And he has the Governor calling us about it."

"He…what?"

The Detective fixed him with a cold stare. "So here's where we sit, Dane. I have a violent murder, and two men accusing each other—one of whom is an angry college student who was the last seen with her, and the one to discover her body. The other who has a lengthy reputation for charity work in our city, and significant relationships with people in power. If you were me, who would you listen to?"

Dane just stared. It was all coming home to him: What his father had done. Why he'd said he'd give him a night to sleep on it. Why he'd suggested the twenty-four hours. What Dane had done by bringing his sister into this. How vastly he had underestimated his father's ruthless nature.

He dropped his head into his hands and sobbed. He barely heard the Detective speak, but it all became clear over the next hour.

Dane was under suspicion, but would be allowed to go for now.

He was not to leave the city until their investigation was complete.

He would likely want a lawyer, and his generous father was offering to pay for one for him. He'd snapped his head up at that. "I want nothing to do with anything from him! Nothing!"

"Not even a quarter of a million dollars?"

He'd just stared at the man, who slowly, slowly smiled. And that's when he realized: His dead man's switch didn't matter.

There might be a journalist or two out there who would follow the leads, maybe even find the truth. But his father wasn't afraid of that.

His father had the police in his pocket. Had the Governor making phone calls for him.

Had a murder victim, and was going to walk free.

He didn't get home until four that afternoon. His cellphone had been confiscated. But there was a message on the home phone when he got there.

"I told you you didn't want to do this. I gave you the warning, but you insisted. So now you'll learn the lesson. Don't fuck with me, Dane. You will not win."

Dane sank to the floor and sobbed.

In the following days he discovered his mother had disappeared—dead, or just fleeing what she considered to be a certain fate, he didn't know. All he knew was that she was gone. And he, Dane, was alone.

His father made sure he was tortured for months, believing the murder would be pinned on him, ensuring he couldn't find a job, even frightening off the woman he'd been casually dating at the time. The only break he'd had was that his father didn't want the story in the media--didn't want his own name linked publicly with a murder. So it was all whispers, rumors, men in bars leaning into the ears of women Dane spoke to, or anonymous emails to potential employers.

His father's campaign against his life had been so complete, that Dane was left with nothing but his apartment, and his car. By the time Detectives called him ten months later, he'd been so desperate, that when they said the case had been closed for lack of evidence, he didn't fight it.

He'd let his weakness show. He'd let his grief be evident to the world. He'd let himself be questioned and pointed at.

But deep, deep down, he'd been angry. Raging.

And he'd vowed to do everything in his power to be everything his father wasn't—and to bring his father down.

Or die trying.

Because his father was right. He'd needed to learn the lesson. So he'd learned it well: No matter what he did, his father would always destroy anything he loved. Because his father loved nothing. And his father resented that Dane was capable of something he wasn't.

Lesson learned: Love no one, and there was nothing his father could do to hurt him.

*****

He opened his eyes and sighed heavily before he looked down. Lila stared at him, tears in her eyes, her mouth half-open. Her fingers gripped his so hard, his knuckles popped. Whether from fear, or sadness for him, he couldn't tell.

He cleared his throat. "That was the worst time, but not the last. He's made sure over the years that I'd know he would ruin people who helped me.

"He's paid off women to stop dating me—or scared them away. He's threatened business partners. He's had my business audited three times.

"I've known all along that he's paying people to spy. I suspect he's got more than one of my staff on payroll. It's why we keep information so strictly controlled. It's easier to find out who the leaks are when fewer people know each operation.

"But the truth is, he's only barely interested in that. It's more to keep me off balance. Five years ago I decided the only way to make sure he never had power over me was to make sure I never got close to anyone. Because he knows if he ruins my business, I'll just build another. But people? People are irreplaceable, Lila."

He leaned forward, sliding an annoyed Rupert off his lap so he could cup her face. "You are irreplaceable." He swallowed. "I have to be alone, because as long as I'm alone, I'm the only person he can hurt. He can't use others against me, and he can't use me against them."

She put a hand up to his, gripping his fingers. "No one's supposed to be alone."

He shrugged, but his eyes were shadowed. "It has to be that way."