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Could I believe his grieving dad BS? This was an unusual display of emotion from a man who for years and years had worked hard to deny me and Brendan even the smallest hint of emotion or paternal love.
I had a flash of Brendan as a little boy. Playful and happy when our mother was alive.
Would Brendan have turned out to be a semblance of a decent human being if Ronan had shown him a shred of affection and care? Ever since Charlie had told me Brendan had sicced the Black Jacks on me, I’d turned my anger on my brother. He deserved it for that horrible betrayal. But the real culprit was my father who turned him into the animal he’d become.
And there it was, our primal wound. Losing our mother. The point when our father shut down and turned into a cold, ruthless man who used his children as pawns to help him build his empire.
Anger began to pour into my veins. Rage hit me again for all my father had denied me.
“How did you find me?” He answered me with a creepy sneer. Looking at him, I couldn’t believe he used to be my hero.
Instead of being afraid, I let my anger be my guide. Instinctively, I knew why he was here. Word had gotten out that Brendan was dead, which meant I was all he had. The female child in a business dominated by toxic masculinity.
Ronan dipped his silver brows low. “What do you mean? I’m here to take you home, sweetheart. It’s us against the world, baby girl. You and me. Like you always wanted.”
Like I always wanted? Hah! He wasn’t here to offer me what I wanted. He wasn’t going to offer me control. That was what I wanted. He’d never given me the time of day other than when he’d ordered me to keep his books. He’d turned me into a glorified fucking bookkeeper. That sure as hell wasn’t what I wanted.
I sent back that same sneering look. “You know what I wanted, more than anything? I worked so hard all of my life to get you to see me, not as your employee but as your little girl. Your flesh and blood. But what did you do? You let every last one of your enemies drug me and fuck me into oblivion. Me, your own daughter. So now I don’t want anything from you. Stay out of my life!”
My chest heaved as my emotions threatened to overwhelm me, but I refused to let him see how much he’d hurt me. I squashed my feelings, and we just stared at each other through the protective screen door, the air crackling with the tension between us. I’d never confronted my father like this. It was supposed to be liberating, letting go of deep held emotions. But it was breaking my heart that I had to say these things to him. To the man who’d given me life.
But I was speaking the truth, standing up for myself. After what I’d been through, after what Ronan had put me through, I deserved that much. If he couldn’t be a real father to me, the way I’d seen Max be a father to Charlie, he could at least see the damage he’d done to our relationship.
In some corner of his cold heart, he would have to live with his truth. His son had been murdered, and he’d killed his relationship with his daughter. Some father he was.
He could die a lonely old man for all I cared.
His brown eyes darted up and down the street, his first sign of nervousness. It told me he was afraid he’d been spotted, that whoever was protecting me might have a rifle trained on him.
We had nothing left to say to one another. I wanted him out of here, away from me. Away from Charlie’s house. This was the man I’d spent my whole life idolizing, and he’d turned out to be my greatest heartache.
“You need to leave,” I said coldly.
He blinked, the only tell that I’d gotten to him. “I will,” he said with a smile. “When you come to your senses and agree to come with me.”
He glanced at the street again. Tension settled in his whole body as a patrol car did a slow stroll through the neighborhood. “Come on, baby girl. You know I love you. Let me in.”
He issued the order so easily, as if I would obey him.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Savannah, you belong with me. With family. Let’s get the hell out of here before that biker comes back.”
That biker. “How long have you known where I was?”
“What difference does that make? I’m here now, so grab your shit and let’s get going.”
I heard a shift in his voice. He began to sound desperate. He had a plan, and it involved me. I couldn’t put all the pieces together, not yet. But years of chess had taught me well. Was he going to sell me out to the Black Jacks again? Or did he have another debt for which I’d be the payment?
