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“What did you do?” I whisper over my growing horror.
“I just want to know why? That’s all I want to know. Of all the men in the world, why did it have to be him that you chose?”
“He… told you?” Shock ripples through me as I drop into the chair behind me.
“It was a mistake. I’m not proud of myself for going to his house.” He looks down at his lap, his jaw twitching. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“No. Tell me you didn’t.” This gets worse by the second.
“I did. And I’m sure it’s a house you’re very familiar with by now.” Not missing the subtle hits he’s making. He meets my gaze from beneath his lowered brow. “More familiar than ever.”
Guilt wells up in my chest before I realize what’s happening. I should’ve known he would turn this around, but how could I have known he knew? The truth is I had no way of knowing, not unless Callum… he should have warned me. Damnit.
Instead of collapsing under shame, I force myself to steadily meet his gaze. “We are not doing this,” I hiss through my teeth. “You’re not turning this around on me, making me feel guilty. I could easily walk out of here and let Ken throw you into a holding cell the way he would have done if he didn't care about you so much.”
Folding my arms across my chest, I can't help but smirk. “So, what’s it going to be? We can talk about things, but you will not shame me. I'm an adult, and I’m tired of being treated like a child by you.”
“Tell me why. Why him?”
“I'm still not sure what you're talking about.”
“You know what I mean. He told me he loves you, yet I don't understand why you chose him. He’s a bad man. The things he’s done and will continue to do. You could do better.”
“He told you...” He loves me? Said it out loud? To my father? Either my head’s going to explode, or my heart’s going to burst.
“Also said that you are a grown woman and can make your own decisions.” He scoffs, shrugging. “I know you’re a grown woman who can make your own decisions. I just wish they were the right ones.”
“So let me get this straight.” Since I don't know whether to be pissed, laugh, or cry. “The two of you had a conversation about us without me knowing about it.”
He nods. “I figured he’d told you already.”
“When was this?”
“Friday. I'm not proud of myself. I went to the house, as I said, and I… I was enraged. I wanted to kill him. And then he told me that you were both together.”
My heart sinks when his eyes start to well with tears. “Why? Don't you know who he is and what he does? Do you know how dangerous he is? He’s the enemy, Bianca.”
“I... yes, I do know.” I’m not sure what to say. I had only wished to share the news of Callum and me with my father someday, only mainly in my dreams. “It doesn’t matter what you think of him. I care about him too much for it to make a difference. I can’t entirely agree with some of his actions, though I can’t stop him either.”
“Even when you know how dangerous being with him is?” A tear rolls down his cheek, sparkling in the overhead fluorescent light. “I want better for you than that. Hell, you deserve better. Does it not bother you that he could get you killed.”
Did Mom think being married to a cop would get her killed? God, I can't believe that thought even entered my mind. It's too cruel. I’ll chalk it up to how long of a day it’s been. At least I didn't say it out loud. That's the kind of thing I could never take back.
“Sometimes, you make a choice, and that's it. But the thing is, with us, there is no choice. Believe it or not, I tried very hard to do what I thought was right and stay away from him. Except I can't. I just can't do it. And I'm tired of fighting against what I want. I never wanted you to find out,” I admit, and he snorts, rolling his eyes. “I knew you would feel this way. And I don't want to hurt you, Dad. I love you. I wish this could all be over for you. I sincerely do.”
“It will never be over,” he insists, shaking his head. “All this time, knowing there had to be more to it, that I couldn't be the only one who knew. I've been carrying this around inside me for years. I just can't do it anymore. I need to know what happened, and nobody wants to tell me.” He looks toward the covered window, his voice going tight, strained. “Nobody wants to help me.”
