Page 40 of Remy

I school my expression, refusing to let him see the effects of the punch to my gut.

“The treatments are why I’ve been taking the time off,” he continues. “I schedule them for a Friday, which gives me time to recover over the weekend. For the most part, I can bounce back well enough for nobody to notice by Monday.” He shrugs. “Or Tuesday at the latest.”

Guilt clogs my veins. “I should’ve noticed.”

“I did everything in my power to make sure you didn’t. I’ve given Ivy extra responsibilities. I hide away in my office more than usual. I take power naps at lunch. And with you always squirreled away in your prep room there’s no way you could’ve known.”

I shake my head, hating how self-absorbed I’ve become. “I thought you were working too hard. But it all makes sense now—the lethargy, the thinning hair.”

“My vanity doesn’t appreciate the side-effects of the treatment, that’s for sure.” He rakes a hand through his short black strands. “Then again, I’ve been lucky. The chemo drugs I’m on don’t always cause hair loss.”

Is that because he’s taking a less effective treatment so I wouldn’t get suspicious?

“I did buy a wig in preparation though.” He chuckles.

“I would’ve noticed a wig, Dad. At least I hope I would’ve. But it seems I’m more narcissistic than I realized because I had no clue you were sick.”

His laughter vanishes. “You’re not narcissistic. You didn’t notice because I didn’t want you to.” He stares at me with the same unconditional love he’s given freely for as long as I can remember. Then something at the door steals his attention, his brow furrowing.

I glance over my shoulder, following his gaze.

Remy watches us from the hall, the sight of him flooding me with panic.

I snap my focus back to Dad, the color drained from his face.

He studies my clothes, his eyes widening. “You’re still in your work uniform. Why?”

My stomach plummets. “I…”

I don’t know what to say. What I can say without putting us both in more danger.

“What happened, Liv?” His gaze ping-pongs between me and the hall.

“I, um, stayed late at work. I wanted to prepare Amisha and the baby so I didn’t have to go back in over the weekend.”

“And?”

“And—” I chance another glance over my shoulder, caught up in the subtle threat of a narrowed gaze that pins me in place. “I fell asleep.”

“Jesus, Liv.”

I want to tell him that cursing Satan would be more appropriate because I’m sure that’s who spawned the monster in the hall, but it’s too soon for jokes.

I give an awkward smile instead. “It’s definitely been a night of revelations.”

Footsteps carry behind me. Hinges softly squeak before the door clicks shut. Then Remy’s broad frame enters my periphery.

“Carlo,” he murmurs.

“Rem.” My father offers him an agonized smile. “What happened?”

He calls the monster Rem? He looks at him in apology?

I keep my attention on my dad, scrutinizing his reaction to the murderer in the room… Well, the second murderer now that criminal activity has been forced upon me.

“We had an issue we needed to dispose of. You weren’t answering your burner, and there were no cars in the parking lot. The assumption was made that our presence wouldn’t be known.”

Dad winces.

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