“That’s the problem. We don’t know.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.” I scrub a hand over my face. “You’re a real fucking asshole, you know that?”
“Of course, I know that. Why do you think I’ve never been a part of her life?”
“Yeah,” I grunt. “Father of the fucking year.”
I can’t fucking believe I’m considering this.
“And what’s going to stop him when he decides to come for her?”
“You.”
I should walk away right now. Leave him to figure it out on his own.
But . . . can I live with the alternative? Knowing what I know?
Fucking hell.
“If I do this . . . I have some demands.”
Marks cocks a brow, pulling out a letter from his jacket.
“This is a letter of release, stating you’re restored to your former job title. No therapy. No warming the bench. Fully reinstated agent status.”
I grit my teeth, my blood burning in my veins.
I should take it, get my life back.
There’s just one thing that’s standing in my way.
“No.”
“No?”
“I don’t want it.” I take a step towards him, ignoring the burn in my chest. “One million.”
Marks stares at me, his eyes dark and foreboding. I think he’s going to deny me before he finally speaks.
“One million is nothing.”
I shrug.
“It’s what I want.”
One million for being a shitty fucking father. One million for all the times she’s gone without because of him.
One million because that’s exactly what she told me it would take, and God knows I need all the help I can get.
Marks pauses for a moment before a grin spreads across his face.
“You’ve got yourself a deal.”
The blood that stains the bandage over Ava’s shoulder makes me sick.
I’ve been around it all my life, yet the sight of it now, knowing it’s hers and that I failed her, makes me wish it were mine instead.
Itshouldhave been me.