“Dad!” The tears flood my eyes and fall down my cheeks as I race around the desk and throw my arms around him. One of his security guards moves to stop me, but in a rare turn of paternal tenderness, he holds his hand out to stop them and lets me wrap my arms around his shoulder. The last time we hugged was almost certainly when I was still a child, seventeen years old, and getting ready to start college. He gave me one last hug as a send-off to adulthood. Right before he lectured me about being on my own without the help of someone holding my hand. I think I did all right without him.
“How did you get here?” he asks, briefly hugging me before he pulls back to search my face.
“I stole a truck. It was the first place I could think of to come from where I was.”
“Is Corey with you?”
“No. Just me.”
“Did you see him?”
We hadn’t discussed this part. I didn’t have a plan for my answer, so I lie because I’m too afraid of the questions that will come if I tell the truth.
“No. I don’t know where he is. He’s not at home?” I force a worried look on my face.
“He went looking for you when he found out you left the convent.”
“I didn’t leave. I was kidnapped. You have to tell him that. I don’t want him hurting me again.” It’s what I would have said if I thought he was still after me, what I pleaded with Levi to let me do in the first place.
“Kidnapped by who?”
“The Stocktons. They claim that you stole things from them. Killed their parents. I told them it’s not true. It’s not true, is it?” I know he won’t admit it but I hope if he has any conscience at all left, he feels shame at the reminder.
Something flickers across his face. A look I learned as a child was a premonition of him telling a white lie or a fib. It appeared when he talked about where he was or why he couldn’t make a dance recital or a soccer game just as often as it appeared when he talked about Santa or the Easter Bunny.
“Of course not. I doubt I even know who they are. You know how people are with us. Making up stories for attention. The way they always do.”
“Why would they think that? They were so insistent that you killed their parents. They were threatening to kill me as retribution, but I begged them to let me go. I told them I was just a nun. That we didn’t even talk anymore. But they were furious.” A sob racks out of my chest as I explain. I’m still thinking of Levi. How much it must have hurt him to get the call.
It feeds the lie I’m trying to tell my father, buying the guys time, but the tears are for Levi’s parents. Because I know for certain what he said was true. Somehow, someway, my father was behind it. Regardless of whether or not he pulled the trigger.
“I have no idea.” He shakes his head, and then he studies me again, looking at me like he might find evidence of something on my skin. “Did they touch you? Rape you?”
“No.”
“Good. Corey would be even more furious if he found out. I don’t need him starting a war right now. I’m up for reelection soon.”
“I don’t think his opinion or the election matters right now.” For a million reasons, including the fact that he’s six feet under rotting away without his balls at the moment. A thing I have to assume my father knows and is pretending not to for mybenefit. Whether it’s to catch me in a lie or keep me from going hysterical, I’m not sure. “These men, dad. They’re serious. I could have died.”
His countenance changes then, at the anger I’m having and at the fact that I’ve accused him of being responsible for the danger by implication.
“I told you that convent was a bad idea. That you should have stayed close to your husband. He would have never let this happen.” He turns away from me, back to the work on his desk and his phone. “I think you should see a doctor.”
“I will tomorrow. Tonight, I just wanted to see you and sleep in a familiar bed. Is my room still here?” I didn’t care about the bed. But I do care about the bedroom’s proximity to the staircase that leads to the basement. The one where I need to meet Levi, Bishop, and Rowan so we can steal whatever we can find in the vault.
But my father being here complicates things because now we can’t be sure it’s just a few members of his private security on the property. Now we have to worry that it’s a small army. That part I’m not prepared for—none of us are.
“There’s still a bedroom, yes, but Caroline put your stuff away a long time ago.”
“Is Caroline here?” I ask about my stepmother because I hope she’s not. The older I got the less she liked me. I always assumed it was because I looked like my mother.
“No. She’s at a fundraiser in DC,” he answers, looking at me carefully like he’s trying to see if he can figure out more than I’m telling him. “Do you need to talk to a woman about things?”
“No. I was just hoping to see family. It’s been days and days of being away from anyone I know with not very much food or water.”
“Well, we’ll get the cops here soon enough, and you can make a report.” He eschews my basic needs for protocol. I knew he’dwant to call them, but I was hoping I could buy some time first. I should have known my father’s number one priority never wavers.
“Can’t I do that tomorrow? I just don’t want to be interrogated tonight. I just want to be here with you and sleep in a real bed. Maybe have some food.” I try to think as fast as I can.
