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I step back again. “Oh, is that how it is?”
“Yes.”
“Anna, I—”
“Detective,” she says.
I scoff. “Guess that settles that, doesn’t it?”
Anna looks down and walks out of the room. “Charlotte, it’s time to go,” I hear her say.
I stand still, listening to the two of them get ready. They aren’t just going home. They can’t go home. They’re going back onto the streets where anything could happen. The Quinns want her dead and Daniel definitely won’t be happy until that happens. I can’t let them go out there. I just can’t…
I follow her into the kitchen as she helps Charlotte slip her shoes on. “What about the Quinns?” I ask. “Where are you gonna go?”
“We’ll be fine, Milo,” she says without looking. “My family has a decent reputation for taking care of the mob.”
“They’re really not happy. I don’t think you realize who you’re up against here.”
“Where’s your jacket, Charlotte?” she asks, ignoring me. Charlotte points to the bedroom. “Go get it, honey. I’ll wait right here.”
I watch Charlotte walk from here into my room. Little, tiny feet. Adorable hands. Those fucking eyes.
She’s my daughter.
“Anna.”
She glares at me. “Thanks for the help last night, but I’ll take it from here.”
“Anna—”
“Milo, I’m a homicide detective in Boston, Massachusetts,” she says. “I got this.”
Charlotte returns with her pretty pink jacket in hand. I step toward her, drawing a quick inhale from Anna, but she swallows the objection.
“Let me help you,” I say, kneeling in front of Charlotte.
I take the jacket from her and hold it up. She instantly turns around and slips her arms in. I push it over her shoulders. My heart pounds, counting down the seconds until her mother drags her out of here.
“It was nice hanging with you, Charlotte,” I say.
The girl smiles, showing off her dimpled cheeks.
Anna holds out her hand. “Come on, Charlotte. Say goodbye to Milo.”
“Bye, Milo,” she says to me.
I poke the edge of her cheek just beneath her eyes. My eyes.
“Goodbye, Charlotte,” I say, my throat tightening.
Anna takes her hand and leads her out the door. She gives a quick look back at me before it closes behind them. It’s hard and full of determination. On the one hand, I’m happy she’s so strong. Charlotte will grow up with a decent role model. I can already picture her fighting back against the boy who won’t stop tugging on her hair or speaking up when her friends get bullied.
On the other hand, if Anna has her way, I won’t be there to see any of it.
Then again, should I even be there in the first place?
I stand up and look around my empty apartment. Anna’s right. I’m not a father. Never have been. I’m a scam artist. A thief. I run a food truck where I sell tacos out the front and run contraband out the back. I lie for a living and I’ve never once felt bad about it.
