Would it hurt him? Anger him? Sever any ties that his dad depended on? Ben didn’t know...but he hoped so.
Dante had been wrong when he said Ben was a better man than him. He wasn’t anything close to that.
The crowd got tighter around them. Ben wasn’t sure if it was filling up with more people or if the walls were simply closing in on him. They did that a lot, especially in this house. He hated being inside this house.
“Ben,” Dante started but was cut off by the sound of Ben’s father’s voice. “What a turn out. You were right, honey.” He looked at his wife who stood beside him. “And here I thought no one would show up.”
Everyone in the room laughed, everyone except Ben and Dante. His brain started to get fogged up again, that thick, muggy feeling that made him lose track of what he was thinking.
His father stood on the middle landing on their family staircase. There was a chandelier over him that was never turned on unless people were over. It was needed only for show and this was definitely his father’s show. Fake a happy marriage, a well-adjusted son, pretend to be humble to get people where he wanted them.
All you had to do was continue up the staircase, to the second floor to reach Bonnie’s old room. The room across the hall that she’d died in. It was a guest room now, completely redone, wiping her memory away.
“I know you all want to have a good time tonight, so I won’t keep you long. I just want a quick moment to get personal. I—” His eyes locked on Ben, Ben and Dante. Ben could practically see him mentally stumbling.
He smiled, looked away and recovered quickly. He always recovered quickly. “As you all know, my family is much like the rest of yours. We aren’t short on tragedy. It seems that goes around. My wife and I lost our only daughter when she was just a teenager.”
Ben’s head swam. His father’s words became distorted, but he fought to find his way through it. To focus on the words because they would make him hate his dad even more than he already did.
And Ben wanted to hate him.
“As much as we loved her, we weren’t able to save Bonnie.”
Ben’s hands tightened into fists. His insides did as well. They hadn’t loved Bonnie. He didn’t love anyone other than himself. And none of them had done anything to save her.
“We were close to tragedy again when our son, Benjamin Worthington Jr. of Worthington/Mathers was kidnapped, assaulted, and could have been murdered. My wife and I won’t stand by idly again, but we have to ask for your help. As citizens of New York, of our nation, violence is something we need to stick together to fight against. To protect our daughters and sons from thugs on the streets. These aren’t productive members of our society. They’re freeloaders. People who want the American Dream without working for it. They want to steal and murder to get what they want, and I for one, won’t stand by while they ruin the country that I love so much.”
With each word his father spoke, the fog in Ben’s head cleared, replaced with hate. Anger.
“I love you, Benny. I’ll always love you.” Bonnie’s words were there, always there in the background. No, their family hadn’t fought for Bonnie the way they should. They hadn’t kept her safe from herself. They’d ruined her.
The crowd applauded and Ben realized they’d been doing it for a while and he hadn’t noticed. It was like he’d been in a silent room, and was suddenly thrust back into this one—quiet with his thoughts, and then overwhelming cheering and love for his father.
“Now, go ahead and continue enjoying yourselves. I plan on doing the same.” His dad held up his champagne glass and smiled, before grabbing his mom’s hand and walking down the steps. The people around them went back to their own worlds.
His dad would come find him. Ben knew that. When he felt a hand on his arm, he figured it was already him, but it wasn’t.
“What are we doing here, Ben?” Dante asked.
Ben didn’t have the chance to answer before his father did for him, “I’d like to know the same damned thing.”
Showtime.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Ben forced his lips into a tight smile. “You wanted me here, remember? What kind of son would I be if I didn’t support my family? We’re big on that, aren’t we? Support. We supported Bonnie so well.”
Fury shot from his father’s eyes, laser beams directed at Ben.
“Ben,” his mom started but then, “Abigail, Thomas, thank you so much for joining us.”
Ben didn’t know exactly who they were but they were important. He knew that. Everyone in the room except for Ben and Dante were.