Page 30 of Dash

I limped across the room and inspected the shots. They hadn’t been close to piercing the glass, so yeah, the attack had meant to frighten Thena. Good thing she wasn’t easily frightened. I shut the drapes then peeked out the bedroom’s main door. Down below, I made visual contact with Ferranti and Shaw, now stationed inside the penthouse.

A nod from Ferranti let me know we were good. After locking the door again, I grabbed my messenger bag and my cane from the floor and, resting some of my weight on the cane, retraced my steps and called out to Thena.

“We’re clear,” I announced. “You can come out now.”

Thena ambled out of the bathroom, took in the closed curtains, and made her way to one of two fashionable barrel chairs on the other side of the bed. She plopped down on it. I followed her, propped my bag against the chair, and eased down opposite to her, repressing a wince.

“Thena,” I started. “It’s not my goal to take control of the Astor Group away from you. The company is yours. You’re the businesswoman. I’m a soldier.”

“Then why all this?” She slanted her tablet in the air.

“Because it was necessary.”

“Explain.”

“We might as well start at the beginning.” I slid the letter out of the messenger bag and turned it in my hands. “Your father didn’t want me to share this with you, but I disagree. I refuse to be like him.” I offered the folded paper to her. “Perhaps now you’ll begin to understand. It’s past time you read the letter Richard left behind for me.”

***

Thena

The ominous tone of Dash’s voice gave me pause. The intensity that darkened his deep-set eyes raised the stakes. Holding out the letter, he studied me closely, as if trying to read my reaction.

His large frame overwhelmed my chair’s twin and made it look dainty. His black jeans and dark T-shirt clashed with the white bouclé fabric. A frown deepened the furrows between his eyes. Whatever my father had written, he didn’t like it.

So much had happened since my father’s death. The article in the Journal had triggered my fury. I was afraid of what would come next, but I reached out and took the letter. As I began to read, I could almost hear my father’s gravelly voice echoing in my head.

Dashiell,

If you’re reading this, I’m six feet under…

I had to read the letter twice. When I was done, I couldn’t doubt its authenticity. It was my father in a nutshell. It irritated me to no end that he referred to my sisters and I as “girls” instead of women, and that he chose to keep me in the dark asif I were incapable of understanding the danger and handling the situation. Because I’d been born a woman, I’d spent my life proving my worth to a man who’d never truly seen me, nor my capabilities.

“This is a lot.” I puffed out a long breath.

“It is a lot to process,” Dash agreed. “Hell, I’m still processing.”

The letter left me reeling in every respect and yet my thoughts shot to my sisters. Panic squeezed my throat when I thought about them, going about their lives, oblivious to the danger stalking them.

My heart ached and my belly squeezed with dread. Cece would be hyper focused on her research somewhere, unaware of anything but what lurked under her microscope. Affie was likely too entranced in her latest creative obsession to feel or see the evil coming at her. And Missy, my precious Missy. She’d probably feed her assassin her last morsel, hand him the shirt off her back, and offer him all kinds of help right before he killed her.

No. I couldn’t think like that. My sisters had their quirks, but they were smart and competent women. On the other hand, they’d be even more capable of defending themselves if they knew about the evil coming their way.

“You’re agonizing about your sisters.” Dash verbalized what I couldn’t say aloud. He’d always had a knack for reading my thoughts and expressions. There was no point in denying the truth.

“They’re not safe and they don’t know it.” I scrubbed my face. “I have to do something about that.”

“I can assure you,” he said, “we’re working on it.”

I perked up at that. “Any leads?”

“Not yet, but soon, I hope.”

Once upon a time, Dash, Nix, my sisters and I had allbeen tight. Then Nix died and everything fell apart. It was depressing. I couldn’t help but feel like we were cursed, like our family was Humpty Dumpty and maybe no one, including Tracker Team and Dash, could put us together again. My mother was probably turning in her coffin right now. How disappointed she would be to know that I’d failed her on all counts.

“Your sisters have done a great job at disappearing without a trace,” Dash reminded me. “The assassin is probably having as much if not more trouble locating them as we are.”

“I hope so.”Please, God, make it so.

---