Страница 309 из 349
Torian
I knew this moment would arrive since William Fox was brought up in conversation.
What I didn’t anticipate is my compulsion to lie to her.
“Luther said something about you working off my father’s debt through me. What does that mean?” She blinks up at me through thick lashes. “And why didn’t you say something earlier? All this time my family has owed you money, and you never said a word.”
“You owe me nothing. Women and children are never dragged into the mistakes of men.”
“What mistakes? What did he do?”
I contemplate hiding the truth. I could even drip feed the information over the passing days. Or weeks. Maybe even months. The ability to hold the insight hostage, ensuring she always has a reason to remain close, isn’t beneath me.
“We can discuss your father once we’re in the air. We’ll have hours without interruption.”
“No. I can’t wait. After everything that’s happened today, I just need…something. I don’t care if it’s bad news, or information I don’t want to hear. I just have to know.” She pleads with her eyes, unravelling me one bad habit at a time. “Cole, please.”
I waiver between a cruel plan and blatant truth.
I question my motives and the possible benefits.
“I already know he was dirty.” She waves off the comment as if its meaningless. “Days after he disappeared, a photo was handed in to the Bureau. It showed him involved in a money exchange with a known criminal. So you’re not telling me anything new. I just want to understand the specifics.”
There’s strength in her tone. Backbone. But she can’t hide the pain in her eyes.
I see the emotion clearly. My pretty little fox still wants to believe in a father she doesn’t think exists.
“This photo convinced you he was dirty?”
“The photo convinced the entire Bureau. Colleagues he’d worked with for years gave up on him in a heartbeat.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
She holds my gaze while indecision flickers in her expression. She’s considering lying to me. Falsifying the truth to save face.
“You don’t want to admit it, do you?” I answer for her. “Despite what everyone says, you’re still trying to cling to the man you looked up to as a child.”
I understand the compulsion. I’ve been there myself.
“Just tell me.” She refuses to open up to me, keeping herself locked tight. “Confirm it once and for all.”
“That he was dirty?” I shake my head. “I can’t. Because he wasn’t. Not in my opinion.”
Her teeth dig into her lower lip, the depth deep enough to cause pain. “Tell me what you know. And don’t placate me. I can handle the truth.”
“Do you really think I’m the placating type?” I raise a brow, almost insulted by the accusation.
“No. I guess not.” She places her hands on my hips, her warmth sinking into me. “Your skills are more focused on manipulation.”
The sucker punch hits me without warning. It’s another reminder of the vast differences that will always separate us.
“Your dad was in trouble.” I hold her focus. “He pissed off some bloodthirsty people and his life was on the line.”
I wait for a reaction. Agreement or surprise.
I get neither.
She’s locked tight, keeping me from the battle waging war behind those eyes.
“He came to my father asking for help. He had no other option.”
“How is that possible? If it was a safety issue, why didn’t he go to the Bureau? He would’ve been offered protective custody.”
“He did. And he was.”
“Then why the hell would he approach your father?” She hurls the question at me like an accusation. Like a fucking insult. She’s climbing aboard her high horse again, sitting tall to look down on me and mine.
“Maybe because your holier-than-thou Bureau only offered him protection. As the story goes, they wouldn’t budget the expense of protecting you and your mother. Not when you weren’t living together. They either didn’t believe the severity of the threat, or they didn’t fucking care.”
She shakes her head, the grooves in her forehead digging deep. “That wouldn’t happen.”
“You prefer to think your father switched sides than to question your beloved FBI?” I scoff. “Come on, little fox. Don’t be naive. They don’t give a shit about you. They never have. You’re just another badge—easily replaceable and not worthy of financial support.”
“Naive or not, your story doesn’t add up. You haven’t explained why he would go to your father for help. Or why he was seen giving money to someone your family isn’t even tied to.”
“I have all the answers you need, but I don’t think you’re ready to hear them.” I grab her hands and lower them to her sides. “We’ll finish this later. Go have a long shower. You’ll think clearly afterward.”
I make for the side of the boat and climb onto the pier.
“No. Please.” She scrambles after me, pulling on my jacket. “Just tell me.”
“I’m not going to waste my breath when you don’t trust me.” There’s still a wealth of hostility coiled inside her. Her judgment and scrutiny are quick to pounce. “You’re committed to seeing everything in black and white. Right and wrong. Good and bad. I can’t help you when you’re not prepared to listen.”
Her fingers cling tighter to my jacket, tugging. “Because it doesn’t make sense.”
“It makes perfect sense.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “He could’ve told me. He could’ve gone to a security firm—”
“He didn’t come to us looking for protection, Nissa.”
She stiffens. “The guy my father paid was a hitman?”
“Yes.” I palm her cheek and witness the devastation seeping into her soul. “My father respected yours. Apparently, the way your dad conducted himself during the investigation of my mother’s death meant he was worthy of help. But that didn’t mean Luther wanted to touch a job contracted by a straight-laced agent. Instead, he put in a good word with a reputable contractor. Which wouldn’t have been a problem if your dad didn’t take off before paying the remainder of his debt.”
“He didn’t pay?”
“He ghosted as soon as the contracts were fulfilled, which meant my father felt liable for the betrayal and paid the amount owing.”
“Why would my father do that? He had to know it would put me and my mother in more danger.” She turns rigid, her eyes widening, mouth gaping. “My mother…” She steps back, staring at me in horror. “She was killed in a car accident. The driver fled—”
“Don’t go there,” I warn. “Whatever happened to her had nothing to do with us. I didn’t even know she was dead or that you were a Fed until after Richard’s funeral. You weren’t on our radar. When it comes to retaliation, women and children are off-limits. They always have been.”
“You’re kidding, right?” She takes another retreating step, approaching the side of the pier. “Your family has amassed a colony of i
I clench my teeth as she accuses my family of more crimes.
“Are you done?” I glare. “Or is there more blame you’d like to lay at my feet?”
She crosses her arms over her chest, shutting me out.
“Fine.” I start walking. “I guess we’re done here.”
I make it to the end of the wooden planks, the lap of the ocean against rocks the only sound.
“Wait.” She rushes toward me. “I know you’re not to blame.”
“No, you don’t. You hold me accountable for my father’s actions. Which is fucking ironic when you refuse to be Amar’s judge, jury, and executioner even though he dragged you to hell and back.” I continue forward, stalking my way along the path. “Yet when it comes to me, there’s no hesitation to bang the fucking gavel.”