Page 145 of Unexpected Redemption

I narrow my eyes at him, figuratively fending off his mental attack. “Any other bull hooey you want to hit me with, or can we go? Time’s a-wastin’, old man.”

Reluctance wafting off him, he steps to the side. “Fine. But I’m driving. And when we get there, you’ll do as I say or get locked in the SUV.”

I click my tongue as I march down the hall. “Whatever, bucko. I’d like to see you try.”

“Later, I’ll laugh at that,” he grumbles, quickly catching up to me to press the elevator call button.

The drive to the scene starts silent, but as soon as we’re out of the parking lot, he dials the lair, putting the call on speaker.

“We lost her, Boss,” Klein announces without preamble.

Big Al’s grip on the steering wheel turns white-knuckle. “Explain.”

Klein’s heavy sigh reverberates around us, courtesy of an excellent speaker system. “The truck pulled into a parking garage, and by the time I lowered the drone enough to view inside the structure, the driver and Katia abandoned the truck. Left it running in the corner of the first floor. No sign of them. Not even with infrared scanning for heat signatures. Do you want me to give her description to CPD so they can start looking for her?”

Boss Dad takes a mere three seconds to decide. “Not yet. Have Mia pull any surveillance footage from the parking garage and surrounding area to see what she can find. If we sic the cops on Katia, we might lose our source to eradicate the rest of the bratva. She’s our link to the architect. We aren’t sure she’s dirty. And what crime did she commit?”

On reflex, I cross my arms at my chest, embracing a silent pout. Katia called me a slut. That wasn’t very nice of her.

But I guess Big Al has a valid point.Technically, we don’t know whether she’s legitimately working with Lenkov. And bad manners aren’t a crime.

However, I don’t have to like her.

Big Al turns off the highway, barreling along a side road in a sketchy part of town I tend to avoid. A bit too close to my first home in Clearwater—the dive motel. “We’re almost there, Klein. Call me back if anything else happens.”

“You got it, Boss.”

The tension in the SUV’s cab reaches suffocation levels before we arrive. I need to say something to this man—my father. Mad at him or not, I should make peace. Right?

The second after the thought crystallizes, I smash it to bits with a metaphorical sledgehammer. Everything that happens isn’t my fault. Did I amp up the strain between us? Sure. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t warranted.

He chose Viktor and taking down the mafia over me. I know it. He knows it.

So where does that leave us and our... relationship? If you can call it that.

He clears his throat, and I catch him peeking at me from the corner of my eye.

My toes tap relentlessly on the floorboard while I mull over my thoughts until I break. “Go ahead and say it.”

“Say what?”

“Whatever it is you’re holding back.”

He scoffs. “I think we’ve answered the age-old question of nature versus nurture.”

A grin teases my lips, but I don’t speak.

“You are too damn much like me for your own good.”

Outright smiling now, I shrug noncommittally. “Sorry?”

He chuckles under his breath as if he doesn’t want me to know he’s amused. Stubborn through and through.

Yep. He’s my father.

“Listen, Lettie. I apologize for what happened back at HQ tonight.” He pauses, searching for the words. “Sorry for whatever I did to pile on to your trauma.”

My head shakes of its own accord. Hestilldoesn’t get it.

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