“I killed her.”

It was my body’s turn to go still.

“What?”

“I didn’t pull the trigger but what I did put her in that position so I might as well have been the one to blow her head off.”

His words cut through me and I closed my eyes tight.

“That’s what he did, Sadie, Mickey blew a hole in her head.”

“Quiet,” I whispered.

He got close, his mouth came to my ear and he whispered, “Before I did the same to him, I made him take me to her. Bernie and I got her body –”

“Please, don’t.”

“We paid heavy to have her put in a marble tomb –”

“Don’t.”

“Pink marble, her favorite color.”

“Stop it.”

He kept whispering in my ear. “Even now, when I’m in here, I know that gardenias are placed on the steps of that tomb every Sunday afternoon.”

I couldn’t help it. The fight went out of me, I let go of his shirt and fell into him, my arms wrapping around his waist. The tears were heavy in my throat, sliding down my face, I heard my own choking sobs but he didn’t put his arms around me, he didn’t hold me.

“But I wasn’t done, was I?” he asked softly.

I tilted my head back and stared at his blurry face.

Only then did he touch me. I blinked and focused, catching his eyes staring at my cheek then his hand came to the side of my head, his thumb out and tracing the scar there.

“I got you raped. You. My sweet Sadie. All those years of protecting you so no one could hurt you, no one could get at you like they did Lizzie. Then, when I got sent down, I stepped back, wanting to give you your life, the kind of life your mother wanted for you, a good life, a clean one without me in it. And still it was me who got you violated.” His voice got deep and rough before he said, “My sweet baby.”

“Daddy –” I whispered, fresh tears sliding down my cheeks

I watched, fascinated, as his eyes cleared, his head cocked and he asked almost casually, “How can you even look at me?”

I blinked once then again then I said, “Because I was made from love, that’s who I am. And Hector says if you love someone, you forgive a lot of shit. So,” my voice dropped, “I’m guessing I can look at you because I love you.”

He stared at me and I waited, my body still, the tears coming and seconds sliding by slowly, each one of them taking hours.

Then his arms came around me and he pulled me deep into him. I felt his mouth kiss the top of my head and I got up on tiptoe, my arms going tight, my face going into his neck.

We held onto each other for awhile, until my tears stopped, until the strength came back into my legs and then I whispered in his ear, “Will you please take the photo?”

His arms gave me a squeeze. “I’ll take the photo, Sadie.”

I pushed it.

What could I say?

My father taught me to know when I had the advantage and when to push it.

So I did as my father taught me.

“Do you mind if I wear the necklace?”

That got me another squeeze, he didn’t answer but I took it as a yes.

Then because I had to, because it was important, I took it further. “If he gets up before me, he tucks the covers around me so I won’t be cold.”

My father’s body got tight.

“I don’t know why but I went to him after the rape. He took me to the hospital. When the staff tried to separate him from me, it took two men to pull him away.”

He gave me a different kind of squeeze, one that told me to be quiet.

I didn’t listen to the nonverbal command, I went on, “He makes me feel safe.”

Finally he spoke. “Sadie –”

My voice went so low, I barely heard myself. “I think I love him.”

Silence again.

Then a deep sigh.

“It’d be a lot easier to hate the man if he wasn’t such a clever bastard.”

I blinked into my father’s neck. Then I pulled back and looked at him.

“What does that mean?” I breathed.

His hand came back to my cheek, his thumb again traced the scar then his eyes moved to mine.

“Can I just get to know my daughter for awhile before I have to put up with her new f**king boyfriend?”

My body sagged into his with relief.

Then I nodded.

Because I knew, it would take awhile, but it would happen.

“I won’t miss another visiting day,” I promised.

“Good,” he returned.

“I want to know where she is. I want to take the gardenias there myself.”

He sucked in breath, held it then let it go and nodded. “I’ll be sure that’s arranged.”

“I want you to be good so you can get out soon.”

This made him smile, not huge, but his lips turned up.

So, I smiled back.

Then I whispered, “I’m glad to have you back, Dad.”

His hand sifted into the side of my hair, cupped my head and tilted it down.

He kissed the top of my head.

“Thank you for taking me back, Sadie,” he said into my hair.

At that, for the first time in eighteen years, I gave my father a hug.

Epilogue

Como Quieras

Sadie

“Jesus, Trish, I’m payin’ for the booze, I should be able to get drunk on it,” Herb Logan, Roxie’s father, snapped at his wife (loudly).

“Keep your voice down, Herb,” Trish Logan, Roxie’s mother, hissed back (also loudly). “Do you want your daughter’s wedding to be marred by memories of her loud, drunken, hillbilly father?”

I looked at Jules, Vance, Stella and Mace who were standing with me, Herb and Trish in our little (but loud) group.

“Roxie don’t care, she wants everyone to have a good time. Shit, look at Ally, she’s three sheets to the wind,” Herb returned.

We all turned in unison to look at Ally.

She, like Jules, Stella and I (as well as Annette, Daisy, Indy, Ava, Jet and Roxie’s sister, Mimi, being a Rock Chick, by the by, meant having an enormous wedding party) was wearing a glamorous, deep green, long, velvet dress, strapless, form-fitting with a sexy slit up the front and an elegant twist of material at the bodice. We all had perfect, oval rubies (Roxie’s bridesmaid’s gift, the green and red color combination was because it was Christmas Eve) winking at our throats and matching studs at our ears both of these displayed beautifully because our hair had been swept up in elaborate up-dos.

Ally and Ren Zano seemed to be having a very intense conversation. Ren’s face was set, his jaw tight. Ally’s face was red, her eyes flashing.