Page 62 of Monk
A rueful laugh slips from my mouth. “Oh, you’re clear. But let me tell what’s actually going to happen. You’re going to stand up, you’re going to get the fuck out of my father’s house, you’re going to sign those papers and send them to my attorney, and then we are never going to see each other again. Is that in any way unclear?”
“Or what? Are you going to tell your daddy about me?”
“I’m sure that as a lawman, he’d be very interested in that bag of cartel money.”
“One, you have no proof of the money’s provenance. Even as a law school dropout, you should know that.”
My hands clench into fists as the rage begins to burn. Spencer has always known where my soft spots are, and he’s always been ruthless about attacking them. He knows exactly how much not finishing my education or becoming a lawyer hurts me.
“Besides, you’re not going to tell your dad anything. You and I both know that,” he remarks.
“Don’t think so?”
“If you were going to do it, you would have already, and I wouldn’t be sitting in here. By the way, you weren’t kidding when you said you grew up in the sticks. Yikes.”
“Fuck you, Spencer.”
“If you’re lucky.”
“Get out of this house.”
He stares at me for a long moment, a smirk on his lips, malevolence radiating from him like heat from the sun. He gets to his feet and puts on his coat.
“I’m going to give you until tomorrow to come to your senses. You and that bag of cash are coming home with me,” he says. “If I don’t hear from you tomorrow before the day ends, I’m going to have no choice but to contact Mr. Zavala and let him know what’s been happening. I really don’t think you want me to do that if for no other reason, than for your daddy’s sake.”
“You leave him out of this, you miserable piece of shit.”
“Oh, it’s too late for that, honey. You involved him by coming here.”
“Get out of here, Spencer.”
He stares at me for a moment, his eyes full of malice. “Oh, and just in case you think of cutting and running with the cash, let me just say, Mr. Zavala would be very disappointed. And I have no doubt, he would take that disappointment out on your daddy.”
“You’re a fucking monster.”
He gives me a wicked smile, then he nods, his point made. Spencer passes by me, closing the front door harder than necessary, leaving me standing in the kitchen, my stomach twisting itself into knots and tears welling up in my eyes.
The fear is suffocating, and I suddenly need to get out of there. I dash up the stairs and go to my room, closing the door behind me. My eyes go to the closet and I think about the bag of cash under the floorboards. I’m tempted to grab it and go. But then, his threat echoes in my mind and I know that I can’t. No matter how pissed I am at my dad right now, I can’t leave him to those animals.
After throwing on some yoga pants, a baggy sweatshirt, and my tennis shoes, I head out. I may not be able to leave town, but the walls here feel like they’re closing in on me and I need to get out of here just to clear my head for a while. Grabbing my bag and my car keys, I head out. My dad’s bedroom door opens as I hit the stairs.
“Where you goin’?”
“Out. I need some air.”
“Kasey—”
I stop at the bottom of the stairs and look back at my dad, who’s standing at the second-floor railing outside his bedroom door. The thought of something happening to him because of me sends a shot of pain through my heart and it nearly drives me to my knees. But I can’t think of that right now. My anger is still too fresh and too raw.
“Dad, I’m a twenty-seven-year-old woman. I don’t actually need your permission to go out,” I snap.
Without waiting for his reply, I walk out and slam the door behind me.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Monk
My eyes widen in surprise when I open the door and find Kasey standing on my porch. Her arms are folded over her chest defensively, and her eyes are red and puffy. She’s been crying.
