Page 127 of Tanner

We went camping in the backyard and ate s’mores before dinner. He took me to my first movie and taught me how to drive a car. When he came to New York, he let me drink scotch before I was legal and got me into that underground speakeasy because it was a place he liked to frequent when he was in town.

Yet, despite those good parts, this man before me is everything I never dreamed he’d be. I tried to make amends with his philandering ways. I tried. He’s my only living parent.

“I loved you,” I say. It seems like a moot point, but the words come out of my mouth anyway. “You were once my hero.”

“Mine, too,” Austin says. “I love cars and old movies because that was how we bonded.”

“You were there when I had my first breakup,” Bryce says solemnly. “You took me away to Dublin for the weekend. Told me the world was full of wonders greater than women. It was one of my greatest memories.”

Our father smiles. Hearing the admiration of his boys is something he probably didn’t think was possible.

“And let your vanity and weakness lead you down a path of desperation that cost an amazing woman her life,” I state, wiping the smile off his face.

“You cheated on her with a teenager,” Austin adds.

“You killed our mother,”

Bryce’s words are serenaded by the sound of a siren. The flashing of red and blue lights pours in through the windows.

Father stands quickly and walks over to the window. “Why are the cops here?” He turns to us, his robe swaying with how fast he is at Bryce’s side. “You aren’t going to tell them what I told you, are you?”

Bryce keeps his hard gaze fixed forward.

Father rushes to Austin. “That drive. They haven’t seen it yet. We can burn it.”

“There’s another copy,” Austin says.

I don’t recall Jalynn saying she made a second, but it’s wise of Austin to say so.

Father turns to me. His eyes are red, and his skin has turned white. The man who is usually robust and full of life looks like a frightened criminal, pleading for his life. “Tanner, you won’t do this to me. You’re my boy. My baby boy.” His words drift as he realizes I, too, am not going to save him from this.

I watch as he places a hand over his mouth and spins around as he looks at the lights now illuminating the room.

“You don’t have proof. Those tapes, they’re just words.”

“You confessed to your three sons that you’d murdered your wife.” Bryce leans over the desk and yanks the flash drive from the computer. “Missy made everything very clear on these files. Your history will be tomorrow’s news. From the underage affair to the murder. Your reputation is ruined. And, when you’re convicted, your shares will become ours. The clause stands for you, too, Father. Once convicted, the company becomes ours. Everything you and Missy plotted for is gone.”

Bryce storms out of the study. Austin looks like he wants to say something, but his fists are clenched, and his jaw is so tight that I think, if he speaks, he’ll burst into tears. He turns and walks out the door as well.

I turn to follow and then stop at the door. When I look back, my father is walking toward the fireplace. His hand is on the mantel as he looks down at the flames.

“Good-bye, Edward.”

He looks up at me, his face highlighted in orange from the glow of the fire. “Tanner,” is all he can say.

“Yesterday, I was ready to walk away from the company and live my own life. I was going to give my shares to Austin and Bryce. I was ashamed to be a Sexton. To be your son. Tonight, I’ve never been prouder to be a brother. I swear, I’ll dedicate my life to making Mom’s dream come true and watching my brothers rise. And, when you see our success from behind bars, don’t tell anyone we’re yours. Don’t gloat about Bryce’s business sense, praise Austin’s wit, or indulge in stories of how you molded me into the fine young man I’ve become. Because you’re dead to us.”

We stare at each other for a few breaths before I walk out the door.

Little do I know that will be the last time I ever see my father again.

29

HARPER

When I walked into a bar, looking for a suit, I never pictured I’d fall in love with one. Well, actually, I fell for a guy in jeans with a ridiculous man bun. He knocked me off my feet, but, honestly, it doesn’t matter what he’s wearing, where he works, what his quirks are … Tanner Sexton is mine.

Today, he’s wearing a black suit and a sullen expression. As we sit on the folding chairs that dig into the grass at San Francisco National Cemetery, I don’t look at the open burial plot before us. I stare at my husband.