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This morning, I woke up wondering if I could get through the day without disappointing my daughter yet again.
By mid-morning, I’d successfully sent her off to school and agreed to a public outing with the man I have both dreams and nightmares of.
By early afternoon, I’d confronted him without holding back and had my world rocked with his confessions.
It’s only been… what, two hours? not even three?... since our walk in the botanical garden.
I get why Demyen seems so exhausted. Days like this exist on repeat for him.
I’m about to lean up and kiss him in an act of heartfelt appreciation when the elevator doors open…
… and my father steps out.
16
CLARA
“Clara,” Dad says, completely stunned.
Demyen quickly stands and steps between us. “The fuck are you doing here, Everett?”
“I heard about the shooting. Willow wasn’t there when I arrived, and then someone said they saw you.” He tries to look around Demyen at me. “They saw you, and I couldn’t believe it.”
“So you just, what?” Demyen wraps his arm around me as I move next to him, though he keeps himself in the line of fire. “Thought you’d come pretend you care?”
Dad narrows his eyes. “This is between me and my daughter.”
“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Demyen’s chuckle is dark. “You and I both know you don’t give two shits about your own family. Even if you’ve suddenly decided you do, it’s too little, too late.”
“I don’t care who you think you are?—”
“I’m Demyen Zakrevsky, corporate CEO and the primary financier of the new surgical wing we are currently standingin.” His grin doesn’t meet his eyes, which stay cold and utterly venomous. “Now, give me one good reason why I shouldn’t call security in to throw your ass out.”
Did I seriously miss that little detail? A quick glance at the gold letters above the elevators doesn’t say “Zakrevsky,” but who knows? At this point, Demyen could tell me he sponsored the sunset and I’d believe him.
Dad is doing everything he can to stop himself from blowing up and causing a scene. I know all his tells: reddening face, flaring nostrils, narrowed eyes. Clenched fists down at his sides. Slow, rattling breaths deep in his torso.
He’s being put in place.
No one ever dares put Greg Everett in place.
But he knows that Demyen is an unstoppable force. I wish he would try, just so I could watch Dem snap him like a twig. But even my bullheaded father knows better than to throw himself headlong into an unwinnable battle.
So instead of flying into a rage and throwing punches—like he used to do with Mom—he takes a deep breath and gestures to me. “Can I speak with my daughter?”
Demyen calmly shakes his head. “Not without me or my lawyer present and cameras recording every word.”
Dad tries to bypass him again by stepping toward me. “Clar-bear, this is ridiculous. I’m not some monster?—”
Demyen intercepts him. “I’m going to stop you right there and give you three seconds to back the fuck up.”
Dad glares at Demyen and gets in his face. “Or you’ll what? Assault an officer?”
Demyen’s face suddenly brightens into a delighted grin. “Oh, so you’re on duty? That does make things simpler. Unless you’re here to arrest either of us, we’re going to need you to step back, Detective.” He says it loud enough to catch the attention of the nurse’s station, and a few turn their heads to see what’s going on here.
Dad’s caught and he knows it. So does Demyen. If Greg is trying to flash his official badge to get his way, then Demyen’s lawyers—a.k.a., Bambi—will rip him an official new asshole with every last legal method in the book.
And if he’s admitting he’s off-the-clock, then there’s nothing in the world stopping Demyen from breaking his face in.
