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Authors: Nikki Soarde

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BOOK: FullDisclosure
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“I know, Rachel. I’ve known since you first started talking about Noah.”

He couldn’t have surprised her more if he’d hauled off and slapped her. “What? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you—”

“Rachel.”

His tone was sharp and it stopped her in her tracks. It was the closest he’d ever come to sounding angry.

“There’s something we need to discuss—” He hesitated. “Actually right now, there’s something I need to tell you. There are some things you need to hear and a lot of things you need to understand. You need to sit quietly and listen for a while. No interrupting me until I’m finished. Do you understand?”

She just stared at him, trying to assimilate this and guess what he could possibly be talking about.

“Do you?”

She couldn’t have found words if she’d wanted to. She nodded.

And he talked.

Chapter Seventeen

Sadie kicked frantically at the lid of the trunk that formed her prison. It was so dark she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face. Not that she could have put it there if she wanted to. She was bound up in a cocoon of duct tape, her wrists taped together behind her back, her mouth covered and her ankles tied so tightly together that the bones were rubbing each other raw.

To top it off, the trunk of this Toyota was tiny. Her knees were practically to her chest, and although she couldn’t have been inside for more than ten minutes, the air was being used up at an alarming rate. It also made her escape tactic extremely problematic. It was hard to kick when you couldn’t move.

She finally conceded that it was useless and all she was accomplishing was making herself hot and using up the valuable oxygen. She lay her head back down, tried to keep her breathing shallow—and listened.

All she could hear were traffic noises and the endless, whiney tones of the country music Rufus had blaring through the speakers. It was loud—loud enough to drown out her screaming whenever they stopped at a traffic light. That had been useless too.

Why was he doing this? And where was he taking her? The whole thing was baffling—and terrifying. She’d hoped to get some clue from his end of the phone conversation but it had never happened. Rufus had tried that number five times and, much to his obvious distress, had gotten no response. All her pleading and questions had yielded nothing. He’d merely stared at her stonily.

Then she’d done the most stupid thing of her life. She’d been scared and angry and had threatened him with Jake. She’d told him that Jake would be coming back any minute, and that Rufus would be sorry.

Of course Rufus had immediately decided it was time to leave—even though he didn’t seem to have any idea where he was going. Hence they’d begun driving endlessly, and the air in the trunk was not going to last much longer. She was really scared—and here she thought she was through being scared.

She was so tired of it. But at the moment she didn’t see any way out of the victim’s role. At least not until he opened up this damn trunk. She wondered what Jake would do when he found the apartment empty.

On their way out, she’d managed to knock over an end table and send a picture crashing to the floor. She hoped that was enough to send Jake the message that she’d been taken against her will.

If he got into the apartment, of course. Rufus had locked it up tight.

Overwhelmed with frustration and hopelessness, she began to cry.

Rachel was staring at him, her eyes so wide and unblinking he felt as if he was in danger of falling in. He’d finished his tale—told her of his feelings for both Sadie and Jake, how he’d struggled with his own sexuality and finally come to the decision that his happiness was far more important than fitting into some box that society deemed proper and respectable.

And although she hadn’t said a word and her expression communicated awe and disbelief, he had continued. He had told her of her own conception—how an opportunistic and sadistic man had taken advantage of his and her mother’s youth and vulnerability. He’d told her how they had clung to each other out of a sense of isolation and desperation. They had felt they had nowhere else to turn. They’d had only each other.

And now his daughter sat there, still staring at him, her expression more of a blank than ever. He had no idea what she was thinking—and wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“Do you understand?” he asked at last. “Do you understand that what we went through is a huge part of the reason your mother shut herself off from the world up in that commune? And turned to God so completely? She felt used and abused and guilty all at once. She’s doing her penance and hiding herself away.” On an impulse he grasped Rachel’s hand. “And do you understand how unhealthy that is? How miserable she must be?” He took a deep, shaky breath. “I want better for you, Rachel. A life lived in guilt and fear is no life at all.”

She blinked, and he thought he saw a tear squeeze out of her eye—but she looked away too quickly for him to be sure. She drew her hands from his—not quickly in anger, but slowly, gently, like someone trying to wake from a dream.

“Talk to me, Rachel. Please. Ask questions, throw out accusations. Yell at me if you like. Anything is better than this silence.”

And at last she did. “Why?” The word came out as a harsh cry.

But he was confused. “Why what? Why do I love Jake?”


Why now?
Why did you wait so long to tell me? And why spring it on me now, just when I’ve found out about Noah’s betrayal as well?”

His heart hardened a little at that. “Noah didn’t betray you, Rachel. And although I may not have been honest with you from the beginning, the only person I was truly lying to was myself.”

She shook her head, turned away.

His anger bloomed. He stood, his heart racing with sudden passion. “Do you have
any
idea what it’s like? To feel like you have to hide something in yourself, something so deeply ingrained and essential to your very being—to have to hide that from the people you care about? To feel like if you allow your true self to shine through, you’ll face rejection? Judgment? Ridicule? And not from strangers, but from the people who mean the most to you?” He clenched his fists. “You put yourself in denial. You try to tell yourself that it’s not true, because it’s easier that way. It’s so much easier to lie to others if you lie to yourself first.”

Her back was to him. He couldn’t see her face, but it no longer mattered.

“Until finally you figure out that you can’t truly love anyone, or allow yourself to be loved until you love yourself. And in order to do that, you have to be honest with yourself too. You have to accept who you are, and love every part of you.” He sighed, his anger almost spent. “It took me more than forty years to figure that out. I wasted a lot of time trying to be what others expected of me, only allowing my true self to shine through in secret. Scurrying around in the shadows like a rat. I’m not a rat, Rachel. I’m a person, a good man with honesty and integrity and something amazing to offer the world.

“I’m through with it—through with the hiding and the lying and the denial. I’m just glad that Noah has sense enough to not put himself through it. He figured it out early, no doubt thanks to the struggles his father went through. Even if you don’t accept me and love me anymore, Rachel, maybe I can give you that. You need to learn to live your life for you. Not for your mother or your God, or even for Noah. If you don’t live for yourself first, it’s all a lie. You’re not really living at all.”

She turned to him, her face streaked with tears. “That’s not what I was taught!” she shot back. “That’s just plain selfishness!”

He shook his head. “No. No, it’s not. It’s realism. But you have to figure that out on your own. I’m out of words.”

“So am I.” She ran to her room, slamming the door behind her.

Exhausted, Evan sank back onto the couch and dropped his head into his hands. It had gone no worse than he’d envisioned, but that didn’t make it any easier. He’d lost her. But hopefully he’d found himself in the process.

Maybe he’d call Jake and see if he could meet him over at his place. He figured his daughter needed her space right now.

Just as he was considering dialing Jake’s number, it appeared on his phone.

Smiling with relief, he clicked on. “Hey, man. You guys done already? I can’t wait to see you.”

“Yeah. And I need to see you too.” Something in Jake’s tone had Evan sitting forward on the seat. “Something’s wrong, Ev.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“It’s Sadie. She’s gone.”

Evan blinked in confusion. “What do you mean,
gone
?”

“I dropped her off at her apartment. I wasn’t even gone an hour, and when I got back the place was locked up tight and she didn’t answer the door. I was afraid maybe she was hurt or something so I broke in.”

“And?”

“Like I said. She’s gone. Not here. Place is empty as a fuckin’ tomb.”

“Maybe she just popped out to get something.”

“No. There’s more. The place is messed up a bit. There was a struggle. And—now don’t laugh but—I smell Old Spice. The place reeks of it.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I’m not sure, but I know Sadie doesn’t wear it!”

“Somebody else was there.” Evan felt sick.

“Yeah. Should I call the cops, do you think? What should we do?”

“Jesus. I don’t know. The cops don’t usually do anything until somebody’s been missing twenty-four hours, do they?”

“I guess not.”

Evan raked his hand through his hair. Then it hit him. “Karey. Let’s find Karey. She’s had more contact with Sadie the last few years. And she’s a lawyer. Maybe she has some ideas. Or some contacts. Or…something.”

“Okay. You call her and see where we can meet her. In the meantime I’ll see if anybody in this building saw anything.”

“Good idea. I’ll be in touch.”

Rachel lay on her bed and gazed blankly out the window. The blue sky, brilliant and clear, unmarred by a single wisp of cloud, seemed to taunt her with its simplicity and beauty. Why couldn’t life be like that? Beautiful. Simple. Easy.

All she wanted was to live a life worthy of God. A life of meaning and purpose. A life that would be the fulfillment of what the Lord and her Church wanted—no expected—of her.

She squeezed her eyes shut as her father’s words came back to haunt her. He was right that she was trying to live her life for others, but he was wrong that that was a bad thing. Wasn’t he?

Wasn’t it horribly selfish to be so focused on your own happiness? The rules, standards—and yes the morals—were there for a reason. Humanity needed guidance. They needed direction, and who better to give that direction than the Lord? The trouble was discerning what that direction actually was. So many people interpreted the Scriptures so differently. How was it that her mother’s church and Noah’s church both read the same scriptures, yet came away with such different interpretations?

It was all so confusing. There were so many scriptures, so many opinions. How was one young girl to make sense of it all? How was she to know the truth? What was the key? There had to be one.

She just had to figure out what it was.

She reached for her phone and called her mother.

“Rachel? Hi, honey! Oh, I’ve missed you. How are you?”

Rachel told her. As quickly and concisely as possible, she told her everything.

When she finished there was a long, poignant silence on the other end of the line. “Your father had no business telling you all that.”

“But it’s the truth, isn’t it? Don’t I deserve the truth?”

“That truth is irrelevant now. It just stirs up old hurt, old pain. I’ve forgotten all about it. And so should he.”

Why did Rachel have trouble believing that? Her father’s words still rang in her ears. If what he said was true, then what had happened more than twenty years ago still affected her mother deeply. It affected every decision she made, was a shadow over every breath she took. And how could it not be? The story she’d heard had been brutal, tragic, devastating. It seemed to Rachel that “forgetting” it wasn’t really an option. But what did that leave?

“I don’t think it’s that easy, Mom.” Had she heard herself right? Was she defending her father? The man who had lied to and betrayed her?

But it wasn’t betrayal, he had said. If so, then what was it?

“Well, it was for me,” retorted her mother. Her words merely served to reinforce Rachel’s conviction that it had
not
been easy. It still wasn’t easy. Not by a long shot. So now her
mother
was lying to her? Then she realized that her mother had lied to her for years. And now that she’d been confronted with her deception she was intent on continuing it. At least her father had come clean. If there was one thing she believed without a shadow of a doubt through all this, it was that he had been completely honest with her that afternoon. And from now on, there would be no more lies. Could she say the same of her mother? The woman who professed to be a dedicated child of God?

“Mom, can I ask you something?”

Her mother’s voice softened. “Of course, honey. Ask me anything.” Again, Rachel had a moment of doubt. Rachel sincerely doubted that she could ask her mother
anything
. There were obviously a lot of questions her mother had no interest in answering.

BOOK: FullDisclosure
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