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Wearing half a prom dress.
He gawped at me for a second, looking truly taken aback by something for the first time since the night the Feds had come to arrest him.
“C-Cordelia?” he stammered.
At the sound of my name on my father’s lips, all three of the Lost Boys tensed, as if my dad might be able to hurt me with that word alone. The slight movement of their bodies drew his attention, and I saw his expression darken as he took them in.
In the warm, buttery light of the lamps in his study, our wounds actually looked worse, not better—as if the contrast between our luxurious surroundings and our battered bodies only highlighted how gruesome we all looked.
“Hi, Dad.”
It was all I could force past my lips, and I truly didn’t know if the words were a greeting or a goodbye.
Why wasn’t I trying to stop this? Why wasn’t I putting myself in between him and the men who had invaded his home?
Because he doesn’t deserve it.
He doesn’t deserve my sacrifice.
The time in my life when I might’ve been willing to give my life to save my father’s was done. I wouldn’t pull the trigger myself, but the man in front of me felt so little like a father anymore that the innate impulse to protect my own flesh and blood barely raised its head.
“Mr. Van Rensselaer, we have a problem.”
Nathaniel’s deep voice drew my father’s attention, and his head snapped over to stare at the handsome, sharp-faced man. His eyes widened just enough that I was sure he knew who Nathaniel was, and I saw him register just how many guns were pointed in his direction.
This might all be captured on his security cameras, but that wouldn’t do him much good later if he died right now.
Slowly, Dad raised his hands in the air, holding them out in front of him in a defensive gesture. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t you?” The way the words fell from Nathaniel’s lips, they hardly sounded like a question.
“No, I—”
“Do you recognize these three men?”
Nathaniel gestured to the Lost Boys beside me. It struck me suddenly that he’d called them men, not boys, and when I glanced around at all three of them, I realized that’s exactly what they were. They had always been powerful and dominating, but as they stared down my father with cold hatred in their eyes, they looked every bit the grown men they were. There was nothing boyish left in their features, just pure masculinity.
“I—” My father broke off, clearing his throat slightly. Probably trying to buy himself time to decide whether to lie or not. But the way Nathaniel was posing the questions made it clear he already knew the answers, and Dad must’ve realized lying would be a quick way to lose this game.
He nodded, thrusting his chin out slightly in an expression I’d seen him wear dozens of times. Imperious confidence.
“Yes. I do know them. They tried to steal what belongs to me.”
A low growl rumbled in Kace’s throat, and I suddenly really wished he wasn’t the one holding the gun. Not for my dad’s sake, but for his. I didn’t want him to walk out of here with more blood on his hands, but a few more comments like that from my father, and I knew he’d have a hard time holding back.
“So you tried to have them killed? Is that right?” Nathaniel’s voice was still calm and even, almost bland, and when Dad didn’t answer after a few long beats, he continued anyway. “You put out a hit on three of my men tonight. As I said, that means we have a problem.”
Dad’s face paled slightly, a muscle in his jaw clenching. “They tried to steal my daughter! She’s engaged. I’ve made arrangements. I will not let three pieces of shit off the street drag her away from that.”
Ignoring that tirade entirely, Nathaniel raised his gun, leveling it at my father’s head. “I’m only going to say this once. Nothing gives you the right to come after me or my men. Have you forgotten what you owe me?”
My heart slammed against my ribs as I watched my father’s proud expression dim slightly. Yeah, he remembered. How could he fucking forget? No matter what Dad might claim about having had it under control, Nathaniel was the reason he was out of prison. The reason he was a free man.
Free to make deals with a devil named Luke Carmine.
Free to try to kill the men I loved.
He doesn’t deserve to be free.
