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That gives me an advantage.
Piper won’t be expecting me.
I need to get moving, but I can’t. Not yet. I have to rest. My eyes close an instant later.
I pass out, unaware of anything at all.
I dream of her. She’s calling out for me, begging me to help her. Then the dream fades and I think of nothing but the blackness of unconsciousness.
Thirty-One
Anna
* * *
It’s the first time I’ve seen my father in fifteen years. He looks older than he does on the billboards, but I guess he would.
He seems harassed and I’m guessing he’s strung out, either on illegal drugs or medication. His eyes keep darting left and right as he looks at me and his hands won’t stop shaking.
“You’re just like your mother,” he spits, his mouth narrowing. He points a wobbling finger at me. “She was a fucking ungrateful bitch as well.”
It’s been three hours since I was dragged away from Marco’s side. In that time, I’ve been tied up in the trunk of a car, unable to see anything but darkness. Ten minutes ago, I was carried out and brought into a huge house. My father was waiting for me to arrive.
I’m in his kitchen. I look past him to the knife rack on the side. Could I get to it before his guards can get to me?
He smiles a sickly grin at me, seeing where I’m looking. “Go ahead,” he says, grabbing his crotch. “You think you’ve got the balls to kill your own father? Do it. Grab a knife.”
I look at him closely. He’s nodding. I reach for the rack, pulling out the longest knife.
“Right here,” he says, tapping his chest. “Ever feel what it’s like to plunge a blade into a man’s heart?”
“I’ll do it,” I tell him, brandishing the knife forward.
“No, you won’t.”
“I will.”
“I know you, Anna. You’re a coward, like your mother. She took the coward’s way out. You will too. You will do as you’re told by me because you’re too chickenshit to do anything about it. Either stab me or put the knife down.”
I look at him. I urge myself to plunge it into him, to free myself from this situation before it’s too late. I try to will my arm forward, but it doesn’t move.
“Told you,” he says, grabbing my wrist and taking the knife from me. “Just like your mother. So many times she waved a knife at me. Never tried to use it. Cowardice runs in your veins.”
“What do you want from me?” I ask as he slides the knife back into the rack. “Why did you bring me here?”
“Because you’re due to get married, my darling daughter. Can’t have a wedding without the blushing bride involved, can we?”
He looks so different from how he appears in public. This close, his face is pale, almost yellow, coated in a sheen of sweat. His twitching hands constantly move. He mashes his fingers together every few seconds as if he thinks that might help.
When he breathes, there’s a wheeze to the sound like his lungs are full of tar. I’m guessing there are. He stinks of cigars.
“I’m marrying Marco Donatello,” I tell him. “Didn’t you know?”
He sniggers. “I know exactly what Marco’s plan was. Got a reliable informant in his camp. Did you know he was only marrying you so he could get you pregnant and send you back to me?”
“How did you know that?” I ask, genuinely surprised.
“So you worked it out, did you? Stayed with him anyway? Told you, you’re too cowardly to fix your problems.”
