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“What did you see in your email, Hellie?”
“I can’t tell you.” She jumps to her feet and stalks away. I let her go. There’s no sense in rushing this. “You’ll kill him.”
I let out a long breath. God, this makes so much sense, and I hate myself for not seeing it sooner. “That’s what this is about?” I ask, keeping my tone soft, trying to find a way to put her at ease.
“I know I should hate my dad, okay? I get it, I should despise him for doing what he did and leaving me here to fend for myself. But he’s still my dad, and even if I want to write him off, I just can’t. I’m not that kind of person. I don’t want to be like him. So I can’t tell you, because I know what you’ll do if you find him, and I can’t be a part of that. I just can’t.”
It all makes sense. Her father reached out to her. That’s why she mentioned email—she thought Ren might’ve faked that too as part of his little plan. But when she realized he hadn’t, she kept her mouth shut.
Because her dad’s in town and she’s protecting him.
“Tell me where he is.” I advance on her.
She shakes her head. “I don’t know.”
“Tell me what he said.”
“I can’t. And I won’t.”
“I’ll check my computer. I’ll hire an IT specialist to dig the email out of memory. You know I can do it.”
“Maybe, but that was a week ago, so I doubt it.” She looks at me, hands spread. “Please, don’t make me a part of killing my own father.”
I hold her with my stare, looming over her. Relief fights with anger. She tried to escape, she kept this information about her father’s secret—but she wasn’t manipulating me the whole time.
Some part of me softens, and a strange kind of hope blossoms.
If she wanted to escape because she was trying to protect her dad somehow—
Then what she said that day was true.
It really wasn’t about me.
“We’ll talk more later,” I say, walking to the door, afraid that if I stay then this feeling will wither and die, and I don’t want that. I need to hold on to it for now. “Keep working.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I haven’t decided yet, but this doesn’t change anything. You still need to paint.”
“Erick—”
“Don’t, Hellie. Not yet. I believe you, but I’m not ready to forgive you.”
She turns to her work. “What if I don’t want you to forgive me?”
“You do.”
“What if I just want you to promise not to kill my dad?”
“We both know that’s a promise I can’t keep.”
“You could try.”
“Hellie. He made his choice. It’s not only up to me, and there’s too much at stake. If I helped your father, and Gallo and Frost found out, the whole city would go to war. It can’t happen.”
“Right.” She lets out a long breath and slowly sinks onto her stool. “He’s as good as dead.”
“Has been since the day he stole from me. Keep working, Hellie. You’re doing great.”
