Page 126 of Undeniably Corrupt
“Yes,” he says simply, easily, as if he doesn’t even need a moment to think about it. “It’s everything I want.”
“What about work?”
“What about it?”
The elevator slows, and the doors open. I turn and take his hand, and we step out into the garage. “How will that go—” Only my words get sharply cut off when I see my father standing over by Vander’s motorcycle, a gun in his hand pointed at us.
Fear like I’ve never experienced before consumes me, making my heart pound mercilessly in my chest and my fingers tight and tingly. My vision sways yet somehow becomes hyper-focused.
Vander wraps his arm around me and tries to force mebehind him, but I can’t do that, and I fight it, shoving him off me. I should have known it would come to this. Maybe part of me did. My father doesn’t deal with desperation well.
“I have so many things I want to say to you,” I tell him, looking straight into his brown eyes and ignoring the gun for a moment. If he’s going to kill me, I need to say this. It’s been building up in me my entire life. “I hate you. I’ve hated you my whole life. Since I was a little girl and watched as you hit my mother and I started to learn how even people who are meant to love you can hurt you. I’ve hated you every moment of the last eight years and wished and prayed for your death more times than I can count. You’re a sad, weak little man, and you have so much fear living in your ugly, black heart. Why did you kill Cass?”
My father takes a step, and Vander once again pulls urgently on me, desperation in his movements, but there’s nothing he can do. He must recognize this because he gives up on pulling me and instead holds me against him, a trembling hand on my back that keeps moving and shifting with something hard in it.
His phone?
Oh dear God, let that be his phone in his hand.
“I had to,” my father states simply, his expensive shoes making a scraping sound on the concrete as he walks toward us. “He discovered I was paying off state employees to look the other way on some of my business deals. He knew I was moving money around illegally and that I was behind the disappearance of a federal DA who was starting to get suspicious of me. And he was going to tell him.” He swings the gun so it’s pointing at Vander. “He was going to tell the police and the FBI too. He found where I hid my files and made copies. I knew you were with him,” he says, returning to me. “I knew he was your boyfriend, and I hated that. You always deserved better than that trash. I figured that was the way to do it. Twobirds with one stone. I was going to make it look like you two were drunk and fought and fell.”
“Except I got there late,” Vander states. “And you had your son killed because you’re a fucking coward.”
“A coward wouldn’t have done it at all. I did what I had to do whether I wanted to do it or not. That’s how this works. That’s how this game is played. It’s why I have to do this now.”
It makes me wonder if he knows about the FBI being involved or if he’s simply tying up loose ends on his own this time.
“Where’s your hitman? The one you had threaten me this morning,” I ask, curious for his response.
“I sent him home. He was… ineffective. He didn’t scare you off Vander. Some things you have to do yourself.”
Interesting. And a lot terrifying.
“What about Hazel?”
“I don’t see why she has to suffer your fate.”
Relief flashes through me.
“And Mom?”
He shrugs. “It doesn’t look good for me if she dies. The town already thinks you’re dead. It’ll be easy enough to explain away, and once again we’ll be the tragic, broken-hearted parents. You didn’t need to be here for this, Liora. I was expecting him, not you. You came back after dropping off Hazel. Why?”
Also interesting. He was waiting here in the garage all this time to ambush Vander, thinking I wouldn’t be here for it. He saw me leave with Hazel and did nothing.
“Because I love him, and I wanted to spend the night with him.”
He shakes his head, so disappointed in that. “I wasn’t going to kill you. I was going to let you live, but now I can’t do that.”
“Despite whatever crazy notion you have, you won’t get away with this. You’re in my garage, and I have cameras everywhere.”
“You have to know the right people, Mr. Moore. I do.” He turns back to me. “This isn’t how I wanted it to be, Liora. I gave you an out. I let you go against my better judgment. You should have stayed away. You should have kept your fucking mouth shut! That’s what you told me you’d do!” he yells, fury like I’ve never seen on anyone flushing his face and making him sweat.
“You can kill us, but you won’t get away with it,” I state instead of addressing that. It’s difficult enough to get the words out. My throat tightens, and I clear it, trying to keep my panic at bay while I think of a way to get us out of this. It won’t be by talking to him. I don’t think my father will listen to reason. I can only hope whatever Vander is doing on his phone will save us and that we can buy enough time to let that happen. “You might know people, but Vander does too, and they’ll never buy whatever bullshit story you’re going to sell them.”
He scoffs. “You mean his doctor friends or his stupid, tattoo artist father? Please, Liora. The Fritzes having money doesn’t mean anything. They’ll believe what they want to believe, and there will be evidence to back that up. This will all end up being a tragic motorcycle accident. They happen all the time.”
There is irony in that from the things I’ve said to Vander in the past, but I can’t find an ounce of humor in myself at the moment.
