Page 73 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part One

“Anyway, I’m going to be out of town for a week or two. Headed to the Caribbean,” he says, standing and putting hisphone in his jacket pocket. “I might be hard to get a hold of, but Riale will be here for you.”

He doesn’t look at me; instead, he moves toward the front door, about to leave my apartment without saying goodbye.

“Dad, wait.” I rush behind him, putting my hand on his shoulder. This close, I discover the gray hairs that were sparse the last time I saw him are beginning to take over his temples.

“Tell me what’s going on,” I say when he turns to face me. And there he is: the hardened, aloof business shark who has amassed billions for himself and his clients. The man who didn’t shed a tear at his son’s funeral, the man who has been more of a ghost in my life than anything.

“No, Storm,” he snarls, his voice frigid. He stands straight, not a muscle moving. I feel like a child again, standing in front of him after getting a bad grade at St.Regis Prep.

I want to press him, but I know it won’t do me any good.

“Fine,” I bite out and take a step back. “See you later.”

Before I can go far, my father surprises the fuck out of me when he grabs my shoulder and pulls me into a tight hug.

I can’t remember the last time my dad hugged me, and the fact he’s doing it now is more than confusing; it’s bewildering.

Still, a small part of me—the part of me that craves his approval, attention, and love, holds on to this embrace.

Who knows when I’ll get one from him again.

“Stay safe, stay focused,” he grinds out close to my ear.

With a pat on the back, he releases me, squeezes the back of my neck while peering into my eyes, then departs.

Just like that, my father is gone…and I’m left staring at the other side of the door.

14

SHAE

Ipress my palms against the cool butcher block countertops my parents installed when I was in the fifth grade, hanging my head as I trace the whorls in the wood.

Storm already confirmed he’s coming to dinner.

Despite trying to give him an out, he didn’t take me up on it. Storm’s coming to dinner; at my parents’ house.

But after tonight, that’s it.

Thishasto be it.

His intensity is…it’s too much—way too much for me to handle while trying to stay focused on the goal. Which, if being drugged and almost attacked has shown me anything, it’s that there’s no space for me to fuck around. I’ll never know when everything could implode.

Surrounded by Mama and Daddy, I reaffirm my mission: Harvard.

All my energy needs to go toward making sure my ass is in a seat in Cambridge once next fall comes around.

I grab two yellow onions and a pair of blue medical gloves from the box Mama keeps in the drawer. I start peeling thelayers back, and Mama returns to the kitchen with Daddy’s empty plate in hand.

As usual, she made him a turkey sandwich with a side of chips and a Coke to tide him over until dinner in a few hours.

The sight of the lone piece of crust makes me smile for some reason. Life is simple with them, even if I’ve made things complicated lately.

That thought causes my grin to fade.

“Smart idea to wear gloves, Shae. You don’t want your fingernails smelling like onions.” Mama chuckles when she says this, so I give her a look.

When my sights land on her, I remember just how beautiful my mama is. Her skin is a smooth, rich brown that practically glistens as a sunbeam shoots through the kitchen from the small over-sink window.

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