Home to Me Page 54

The room filled with affirmative nos.

Parker, God love her, sat back and huffed. “What exactly does he think he’s going to gain by hurting any of us? This guy”—she pointed to the forgotten computer screen—“looks like he has a lot to lose if he’s caught slicing up someone’s brake lines. Does he really think you’ll come running back if he threatens us?”

Erin paused.

Nausea rose in Matt’s throat.

“I’ll do whatever I have to. And make him stop,” Erin said.

Parker moved forward in her chair and looked Erin straight in the eye. “That’s Maci talking. Whoever the hell she was. Erin . . . the woman I’ve known for almost a year, she’s spent a lot of time empowering herself and taking control in her life. This . . . this douchebag thinks he can come in and screw with this family? I don’t think so.”

Parker squeezed Erin’s hand, and Colin looked Matt in the eye. “We need to talk to Dad.”

“I know,” Matt said.

“Love, greed, notoriety, revenge, or a severe case of mental illness . . . or a combination of all. Those are the motivations of the kind of man you’re describing. That’s what Dad always says.” Colin repeated what they’d been told their entire life. Anytime they’d watched TV and witnessed the truly evil, their father would calmly, and pragmatically, explain the motivation of why people turned bad.

“Right. So we’re looking at love,” Matt said.

Erin shook her head. “No. Maybe. The first time he hit me was on our honeymoon. A man in love wouldn’t do that, right?”

Matt’s heart broke all over again. “No.”

Mallory leaned forward, grabbed the laptop, and pulled it toward her. “This ex-asshole. He has money, right?”

“Yes.”

“What are we talking? Is he rubbin’ noses with Buffett or some hotshot that made it big on YouTube this week?”

Erin shook her head. “Not Buffett . . . somewhere in between.”

Mallory clicked on the computer while the rest of them talked.

“Revenge?” Parker asked.

“I don’t see it. I met him through my father. They both had stock in the same company, went to the same functions. To my dad, we were meant to be.”

“The father who wasn’t there to help you when you went to him for help,” Matt pointed out.

“My dad isn’t like yours. He’s self-serving. Much as I hate to admit it.”

“Vertex!” Mallory called out.

Everyone turned to look at her.

“Yeah, that’s the company,” Erin told her.

Mallory set her chin on her fist and read. “It says here the company pulls in over 11.3 billion . . . with a B . . . in annual revenue.”

Matt narrowed his eyes. “That’s the company Desmond works for?”

Erin shook her head. “Owns. Well . . . he has majority stock. Which means he has veto power in the company.”

“So it’s public?” Jase asked.

“Right.”

“And your father has stock?” Mallory asked.

“No. He signed it over to us as a wedding present. Gave Desmond the inch he needed to control the company. My father told me I was set and would never have to worry about something as dirty as money.”

Matt felt his brain starting to itch.

“He really said that?” Austin asked.

“My father has stock in a lot of very lucrative businesses. His only real job is investing and making money.”

Jase blew out a breath. “I’d like in on that action.”

Mallory nudged him. “Not at the expense of your soul.”

“Your ex has stock? Or you both have stock?” Parker asked.

Matt felt his head bopping from one person to another like a tennis match. Only he didn’t watch that kind of sport.

“Him . . . only my attorney thinks the stock was in both our names. One of the hiccups in the divorce. I walked away. I didn’t want any of it. But Renee thinks the stock belongs to both of us. We’re still investigating that.”

“You don’t know?” Austin asked.

Matt had the same question.

“I didn’t care,” Erin said. “I went from my father taking care of me to Desmond. I went to college but never truly understood what I was going to do with my life. I got married and became a punching bag.” Erin looked at Matt for the first time in the conversation. “Then I had one life goal. Get away from the narcissistic monster before he killed me.”

Considering all the parts she’d left out of her tale for those at the table, Matt considered what she said an understatement. Erin escaped with her life and was happy for it.

“Narcissist?” Mallory asked.

Erin moved her gaze to Mallory. “Yes.”

“You mean he believes his own lies?” Mallory’s major in college was psychology.

Erin shook her head and closed her eyes. “He could run through a red light and by the time he stopped at the next, convince himself, and anyone else in the car, that the light was yellow . . . maybe orange, but he didn’t commit a moving violation.” She paused. “He’s that good.”

“You fell for that?” Austin asked.

Matt wanted to hit him . . . but the kid was barely shaving.

“I’m not proud, Austin,” Erin said.

Mallory sat back. “A narcissist looking to keep power. I don’t think we’ve gotten to that chapter yet, but it doesn’t sound good.”

“I’m pretty sure my father gave the stock to him. That’s what I was told.”

“By the narcissist who didn’t run the red light?” Mallory asked.

Erin blinked several times as if the computer in her brain finally started to reboot after an update.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“I found her.” Desmond pulled out every emotion he could as he spoke.

“Is she okay?”

“It’s gotten worse, Lawrence. She’s changed her name, her identity. And now she’s hurting other people. I don’t know what to do. I’ve lied to my lawyer in an effort to find her, and now that I have I’m afraid it’s going to backfire.”

“Where is she?”

Desmond wasn’t about to disclose that. “I have an in with the people she’s deemed her new family.”

“New family? What are you talking about?”

“A family. A new sister . . . two, actually, and a brother. She has a lover.” Desmond sobbed. “I don’t care. I don’t care. For better or for worse. I’ll take care of her. Make sure she gets the help she needs.”

“Let me help. Maybe she’ll listen to me. I am her father.”

“I have this . . . Dad. Now that I’ve located her I’ll bring her home.”

“Desmond . . . I really think we should do this together.”

His father-in-law saw it his way. “Give me a couple of days. If I can’t convince her, I’ll call you.”

“Desmond—”

“Thank you for your help.”

“Desmond!”

He clicked off the line, tossed his phone on the vanity, and straightened his tie.