Thinking about revenge all day has me twisted up inside. As though my subconscious suddenly spoke, leaning toward the side of me I never knew existed.
The side that wants vengeance.
It won’t bring my family back, though. Nothing will.
Tucking those dark and depressing thoughts away, I look up just when Theo brings his Escalade to a stop in front of the safe house where I’m living. My gaze tangles with my father’s concerned expression as he stands on the top step.
Honestly, I’m not surprised he’s here. Aidan Hughes might be a lot of things that bring out the worst of my fears. The one thing he will always be is a protective parent. No matter how old his children are.
The guy is a big teddy bear with his family—a grizzly when he’s taunting his victims.
“Thank you, Theo,” I say with sincerity and all the affection I have for him. Theo has dried many of my tears, he’s been a rock throughout most of my life, and I’m so grateful for him driving me around and tending to my safety. He’s hurting as much as the rest of us. The guy drove Mom around for years. He’s family. To all of us, really.
“You too. And, Victoria,” he replies, catching my eyes in the rearview mirror. “You’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit. I’ll be in the guest house if you need me before Sunday. Now go see your father.”
I’m not sure where his confidence in me comes from, but I appreciate those words more than he’ll ever know.
Grabbing my bag, I open the door and climb the steps to greet my father, pushing onto my toes so I could press a kiss to his cheek. “Hey, there, Dad.”
He eyes me, doubt written on his aging face.
“Are you okay?” Uncertainty sifts through his tone, eyes searching for a lie.
I smile, finding it funny how sharp my skills are about seeking out a liar. It’s one of the traits I picked up quickly from Dad. When I’m paying close attention and not half scared out of my mind, that is. I also learned how to tell them, and I’ve said my share today. More than I have in years, but I’m not going to lie now. I really am okay. At least toward what he’s referring to.
“I’m fine. Dray called me earlier and asked the same thing. He told me you already have Agent Wozniak. I know he has to die.”
The last word rakes up my throat.
He reaches out and tenderly places a gloved hand on my cheek. I lean into it. Such a sweet and loving gesture he’s done a thousand times in my life. Not only to me but Mom and Danika too.
”You sure? You’ve never liked the rules, but you are my daughter, so it comes naturally for your old man to worry. Let me see your wrist.”
The sadness in his expression clutches at my chest as I sling my bag over the opposite shoulder, push up the sleeve of my coat and show him.
Removing his hand from my cheek, he takes hold of my fingers, staring at my wrist as if physically incapable of looking away.
“Well, you shouldn’t, not over someone who would have destroyed us all. It looks worse than it is.” There’s a bit of a twinge, and the fingerprints are purple already. They’ll fade in a few days.
“Would have never gotten that far, Victoria. I just wish you weren’t involved. I’ve put many marks on men, seeing that on you, guts the hell out of me, sweetheart. I’m sorry. Come here.”
“You’re sorry? You aren’t the one who hurt me, Dad.” I’m not going to elaborate on his comment about involvement. He asked for my help, and I helped.
No regrets.
“It sure feels like I did.”
“Well, you didn’t, so that’s the end of it.” I bruise easily, and he knows it.
His jaw moves back and forth when he opens those big arms of his, and I see his face start to morph into the darkness right before I fold into his embrace.
I’ve seen this look one other time on his face. It was the night I witnessed him, Dray, and Diesel kill a man.
I can still remember everything in such a vivid grotesque color.
Red.
Ironically, it’s my favorite color when I should hate it.
I was fourteen years old. I’d just confessed to Danika about a group of bullies in school who’d tease me about being overweight to the point I’d begun losing confidence in myself.
Sure, I was bigger than most girls my age. I had boobs and ass. I was tall and not stick thin. I wasn’t a girl who had to fit in with the salad eating crowd or care what others thought of me. It never bothered me until I realized not a single person in that school stood up for me. Not even the girls I thought were my friends.
Danika said she was telling Dad if I wouldn’t. I didn’t want to because I knew he’d have Dray and Diesel teach them a lesson. Something my brothers would have without Dad having to tell them to.
The longer we sat and talked. The more I thought, I might not be the only victim. I couldn’t bear the thought of someone else taking their torment. Someone not strong enough to handle it. Victims of bullies sometimes close themselves off from others. They live life with anxiety, depression, and sometimes suicide. Those thoughts convinced me it would be best to let him know.
We searched the house and couldn’t find anyone. When we stepped outside, we noticed lights on in the unattached garage. I’d never been inside the building before. I figured Dad used it to toy around with his vintage cars and motorcycles.
How wrong I was because the minute we went
