Page 118 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part One

When she spins out of the room, I take a few moments to clear my mind and suck in deep breaths.

Tomorrow, I’ll feel differently about everything. I just know I will.

I just hope my heart can survive my decisions.

23

STORM

I’m distracted from the annoying as fuck fact that Shae’s ignoring me—again—when my father calls me to announce he’s retiring at the end of next year. Not in five years, but approximately twelve months from now.

There isn’t any discussion, nor does he acknowledge our earlier argument at our last family dinner. He simply says, “Let it go, Storm.”

I can’t let it go, especially with not knowing the truth about him.

Especially with not knowing if I can stop this train barreling down toward all of us.

“Axel, please tell me you’ve got something. Anything.” I run a palm over my rare, bristly five o’clock shadow.

I need to shave, but there’s no time for that right now. In fact, there’s no time for anything except sorting out how deep this shit goes and how to get Lakeland Sandoval out of the picture.

Axel leans back in his gaming chair and pauses mid-shot on the first-person shooter game he built.

He swears Doom of the Zombie Galaxy will bethehot new game, and knowing Axel, I’m sure it will.

“Listen, Storm,” he says, picking up one Monster Energy can, shaking it, and putting it down in search of a full one among the array of open drinks. “You and your dad are clean as far as the Feds go. That agent who picked you up has been demoted and sent to Mississippi to work in a field office there.”

Well shit.

“Who put that in motion?” I ask him, but Axel shrugs.

“Does it matter?” he replies.

No. I guess not.

“Anyway, I’ve looked into Stratos and Lakeland.”

He doesn’t add more to the sentence, and I have to take three deep breaths before grating out, “And?”

He casts a look in my direction before returning to his screen.

“I don’t think you wanna fuck with the shit happening in Stratos. It’s cooked.”

I rub the skin between my eyebrows.

“I don’t give a fuck about Stratos at this point,” I grind out, looking up at him. “I’m just trying to make sure my dad is good. Riale made some wild accusations, and I just can’t?—”

I stop talking at Axel’s hard look. He knows more than he’s letting on, and the way he’s staring at me has my heart dropping to my stomach.

“He’s being blackmailed or something. There’s no way he’d decide to do all this twisted shit.”

My dad may be many things, but he’s not one to want to hurt people. So him being in the flesh trade?

No fucking way.

Riale’s wrong.

Axel gives me a look and then spins back in his chair to face the 100-inch screen.

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