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“I used to worry when you were a kid. You were so freaking soft. Big like me, sure. But you’d do the stupidest things. Remember that scrawny dog you found behind that motel in Phoenix City? You were feeding him scraps every morning and night. You even asked me if we could take him with us when we left town.”
Midas did not move.
The shackles clinked as Henry lifted his hands and rubbed his chest. “Whatever happened to that mutt?”
“You killed him,” Midas retorted. “Ran over him when we were going out one night, and you tried to say it had been an accident.”
“Oh, yeah.” A nod. He winced. “That wasn’t an accident.”
“I know.”
***
“Would you like a tissue?”
Alina blinked. Her stare swerved toward Terrance.
“You have…” He motioned toward her. “Tears, on your cheeks.”
She swiped them away.
***
“The first victim,” Midas prompted. He wasn’t going to let his father distract him. Lucky. I named the dog Lucky. Thought it was so lucky that we’d found each other. He was a good dog. Sweet. His tail would wag whenever he’d see me coming. Midas could feel his teeth grinding together.
“Right. The first. You never forget a first, do you?” Henry’s gaze slid to the mirror.
“Look at me.”
Henry’s attention jumped back to Midas.
“Don’t look at the mirror. Don’t play your games. Either keep up your part of the deal or I walk.” Do not look at Alina.
“Is someone…special behind the mirror? I figured it would be our usual suspects. The DA. The warden—the man always likes to know everything that happens in his pen—and Xander, since I sent him running in there. Maybe a Fed or two in order to round things out. Perhaps your friend, Oliver Foxx? Oh, wait.” His brows climbed. “Oliver is on his honeymoon, isn’t he? I feel like I remember hearing something about that…”
“Who the hell would have told you about Oliver?”
His father strove to look hurt. “You might choose to ignore me, but I have friends. Actually, I have a large number of admirers. People send me letters all the time. They talk about the news. They talk about pop stars. The bodyguards of pop stars.” A smile came and went on his face. “They ask me to marry them. To give them children. There is a very, very large subset of women who are fascinated with killers. Did you know that?”
Midas didn’t respond.
“I think they like the thrill of fucking a monster. You ever met a woman like that? A woman who wanted to fuck a monster?”
Midas rose. “This is a waste of my time. You aren’t going to tell me jackshit. You were jerking around the DA and now you’re jerking me around.” It was his turn to smile at his father. “Enjoy those life sentences. Since you don’t have the possibility of parole, I hope you cherish every single second of your imprisonment.” He marched away from the table.
“They tell me about current events.” His father kept right on going with his list. “Chat with me about rock stars. Olympic contenders.”
Midas stopped. His gaze jerked to the guard who stood near the door. The man stared back with a tense expression. Midas spun on his heel. Olympic contenders. “You told her father to hire me.”
Henry glanced over his shoulder. Confusion clouded his gaze. “What do you mean? Whose father?”
“You knew Oliver was out of the country. You reached out to her father, and you told him to hire me. Why.” Not a question. A demand.
Henry’s brows lowered. “I’m just not following along. Perhaps if you explained who this woman is, then I might understand.”
“You understand perfectly. You told her father—”
“I’m in a maximum-security penitentiary. I don’t get to just pick up the phone anytime I want. If that were the case, I’d be ordering pizza deliveries every week. Remember how you used to enjoy extra cheese on your pizzas when you were a kid?”
