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Romero peers at me over his shoulder. “Do you know what he’s talking about?”
“I don't have the first idea.” I wave him to the side, in any case. I'll be damned if I hide behind somebody else, especially when it comes to this broken-down shell of a man. “What the hell are you talking about? I did nothing to your wife. We never met.”
“No,” he moans. “No! You're a fucking liar! Is this how you sleep at night? I always wondered about criminals like you. How you can look at yourself in the mirror every day without letting the guilt eat you alive. I wonder how broken you must be to walk through life knowing all the pain you’ve caused others.”
“That still doesn't explain what you're talking about. What makes you think I did anything to your wife?”
“Don’t play stupid. You know what you did!” he bellows. “You fucking killed her! You took her from me. One single fucking bullet to her head, and she was gone. It meant nothing to you, but to me… she was my person. She was a mother and a wife, but more than anything, she was innocent! She was everything to me, and you took her. You fucking took her.” His voice cracks, and he crumbles, releasing a ragged sob, allowing one of my men to disarm him easily.
That’s what he thinks happened to his wife? Now I have to go back through my memories. Has Bianca mentioned her? Did Tatum? I do remember back in the day when the girls were young; there was a time Tatum mentioned Bianca’s mom being in heaven. If I recall correctly, it was a car accident. Perhaps Charlie knows something I don’t, or maybe he’s delusional.
“Charlie.” My voice is lower now, drained of some of the outrage he’s stirred up. “I'm still not sure what you think I had to do with your wife's death, though I assure you, it wasn't me. If somebody put a bullet in your wife's head, it didn't come from my gun. That’s not how I operate.”
“Bullshit!” he barks. “Everything you say is a lie.”
“Look, I had no reason to kill your wife. So what, is that why you were after me? Get in line. I can't tell you how many times I have dealt with cops and even the feds on my ass. Do I go around killing their wives? No. Never the innocent. You might not believe it, but I do live by a code. Killing innocent people, especially women, that's at the top of the list. I had nothing to do with it, and I'm sorry you think I did. I could have set you straight a long time ago.”
“Stop. Enough with the lies and delusions. The only person you’re fooling is yourself. I know your type. You think you're a good man. Only you aren’t. You're a scourge on the earth, and now you tell me you're fucking my daughter. All you’ll ever do is hurt her. You're going to ruin and drag her down, and I’ll be damned if I allow that to happen.”
“None of those things are true. I love her!”
Shit, again. Something about this asshole has me confessing to things I never intended. “I love her,” I say again, calmer this time. I’m sick of denying it, anyway. “I don't want to hurt her. That's the last thing I want. She means the world to me, Charlie.”
“I don't believe you.”
“It doesn't matter whether or not you believe me. It's the truth. We both can love her.”
“You took… everything...” He staggers, then drops to one knee. I look at Romero and jerk my chin, signaling for him to help the poor bastard up. It's not like me to feel sympathy for somebody like him. A person so hell-bent on fucking up my life and showing up at my house to stick a gun in my face. It doesn’t really matter what I think or want, not when he's Bianca's father. I'm not going to kill him. I love her too much to do that. I never intended to admit it out loud, not yet. However, everyone knows now. There’s no point in hiding the truth, anyway.
“Get him home,” I order Romero, who helps Charlie to his feet. “One of you guys, follow them in Charlie’s car.”
“You can’t have her! You can’t!” Charlie yells after me, and I turn away from them to walk back towards the house. I briefly catch him fighting with Romero, but he easily subdues him. I walk the remaining way into the house.
Now he knows. Fuck, he knows the truth. I drag a hand through my hair, hoping he doesn't lash out at her. Maybe I should warn her, but then again, I would have to explain how he came to know in the first place. Everything will spiral, and she’ll ask questions. The idea of causing her pain… I don't want that for her. Maybe we’ll both get lucky. He's so drunk there's a chance he won't remember any of what was said when he wakes up. I trust Romero to do the right thing by him, and I'm sure he'll be unharmed when he comes to.
