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“It might already be too late, but for two things.” I gave it to her straight, holding her gaze in the mirror. “One, Martin probably isn’t through making an example of him.” I put on my blinker. “And two, Kyle is his nephew. With it being Martin, the former is probably more important than the latter.”
I steered to the curb and cut the engine.
“I’ll park here, and we’ll walk up. He’ll see me—us—on the security camera and let us in.”
“How did you know where to go?” Claire asked, unfastening her seat belt at the same time that Rachel and I did.
“I live in Southside, and I own a bar.” I popped open my door and got out, waiting for them on the curb. “People talk freely when alcohol is involved, and I listen closely whenever they talk about him.”
“Why?” Claire narrowed her eyes.
“I underestimated how bad he was once. This way.” I pointed and we started walking, Rachel and Claire hurrying to keep up. “Never going to make that mistake or suffer those sorts of consequences again.”
“I understand.” Claire marched determinedly beside me, her hands clenched into fists.
“Not sure you do, honey.” I blew out a breath that floated in the chilly night air. “Not sure anyone knows how black Martin’s soul is but him.”
“Kyle knows,” she said.
I nodded. “He just might.”
I stopped, and so did Rachel and Claire. I pointed to an imposing concrete structure ahead. “That’s the guardhouse.” I put my hand on my niece’s shoulder. “Getting inside will be easy. It’s getting out that will be dicey.”
“We have to get Kyle. I’m not afraid.”
The fear in Claire’s eyes pooled cold in my gut, but I wouldn’t be deterred, and neither would she.
“It’s okay to be afraid. I sure am.” But I cranked up my chin to a determined angle like hers. Holding out my hands, I beckoned. Claire took one, and Rachel the other.
My eyes started to water as I felt the girls’ strength flowing and merging with mine. Together, we just might be able to do this.
“Except that we have each other, and I have something important I need to tell you before we go in.”
“What?” Rachel cocked her head.
“I have a daughter.”
“Ella.” Rachel’s eyes rounded as the connections clicked for her. “Oh my God. Ella Skellin is your daughter. I should have guessed. She bites down on her lip like you do when you’re nervous, and she has that little dent in her chin like you do.”
I soaked up those details. I hadn’t noticed Ella’s cleft chin in the photo I had.
“And the Skellins are so tight-lipped about who her mother is.” Rachel shook her head at me. “How could you keep that from me?”
“Because I had to,” I said. “I signed an agreement to give Martin’s parents full custody to keep her away from him.”
“What?” Claire’s brows lifted above the top rim of her dark frames. “I don’t understand.”
Quickly, I filled in the details she was missing.
“I lived with Martin for a time after our mother died. Actually, it was more like being imprisoned. He’s a deeply twisted man. He threatened to hurt Rachel and Barry if I tried to leave him, not that my leaving was optional. He cut me off from everyone I cared about, and he abused me. He did things to me that I didn’t consent to, and that I’m not going to share.”
“Oh, Addy.” Rachel moved closer. She knew I didn’t like to recount the details.
“I got pregnant,” I said, determined to get it all out. “I got away from him and paid a terrible price, losing my daughter. The end.”
“Not the end.”
Barry suddenly materialized as if out of thin air. Tommy was with him. Missy too.
