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I hate putting my friend in a bad position. It’s not like me to ever ask, but I’m desperate. If Waylon returns here to start trouble and I’m the one who drew him here because of that stupid segment, I’ll never forgive myself. I need to make sure he stays the hell out of Willowbrook and out of Gillian and Clayton’s lives. The guy is bad news, and Gillian has made it clear she wants nothing to do with him.
Brooks has always been a great friend to me. He’s kept secrets for me before. I weigh the idea of telling him against the idea of Waylon showing up unannounced and decide the latter is worse.
“If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone.”
“You know you can trust me.” He moves closer.
I take a few steps away from the door, double-checking that no one is there. “Clayton’s dad?—”
“It’s you! I always knew it.”
I shake my head. “No. It’s not me. It’s…” I lean in and lower my voice. “Waylon Knight.”
“Fuck off.” He hits me in the chest, shock etched in his features. “Gillian and Waylon?”
I nod. “But… the thing is, and I swear to God, Brooks, I’m only telling you this because if he steps foot in this town to cause her or Clayton shit, you’ll be arresting me for murder.”
His head rears back. “He’s an alcoholic and petty thief. Why would you murder him?”
I blow out a breath and look out to the vineyard. What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t protect the woman I love and her son?
“He hit Gillian.”
“Fuck off.” He hits me in the chest again.
“Can you please stop doing that?” I rub my chest.
He shakes his head, mulling it over. “I’ll look him up tonight after the party. If he does come back here, I’m your backup. I always knew he was an asshole, but to hit a woman?”
“Clayton!”
Brooks and I both look up. Drew is walking over to where Clayton is standing in the balcony doorway, his face pale and his mouth open.
“Clayton,” I say, pushing Brooks out of the way.
But Clayton turns around and storms back into the party.
“Clayton!” I call again, gaining the attention of everyone, including Gillian.
She watches her son as he barrels toward her, her face growing more concerned with each step. “What happened?” she mouths to me.
“Is it true?” Clayton says.
“Is what true?” She shakes her head, having no idea what’s going on.
“That my dad is some deadbeat named Waylon Knight and that he hit you?”
Gasps fill the room. I close my eyes, not wanting to open them for fear of what I’m going to see on Gillian’s face.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Gillian
I’m talking with Betsy and some of the other moms I’ve been friends with since the boys were in preschool, chatting about memories of when the boys were younger and how old they’ve gotten. Betsy brings up Kait and Clayton because Drew says they’re talking a lot. I guess I’m not as involved in my kid’s life as I think. Or he’s just hiding it from me.
I hear Ben call Clayton’s name, and the crowd turns toward the doors that open to the balcony. Clayton’s storming toward me, Ben following. Did Ben push too hard with Clay? Was my son rude or disrespectful? I thought things were heading in the right direction. Clay actually asked me about Ben the other day.
Now Clayton is standing in front of me looking as if he’s about one second from crying. His eyes are welling up, and his nose is crinkling.
