Page 55 of Remy

“No.” My eyes widen. “I want to know how long this agreement will last. How many victims there’ll be. And what happens if the authorities get involved?”

“The authorities won’t get involved.” Remy starts for the entry. “Not unless someone opens their mouth.”

“She won’t talk,” my father vows. “Will you, Liv?”

I would.

I’d sing like a canary, tweet-tweeting my way through every step of what I was forced to do if only my dad hadn’t tangled himself up in this horribly criminal web.

“How long will it last?” I repeat, ignoring my father’s misplaced faith.

Remy pauses.

My dad falls quiet.

I glance between them as a sense of foreboding enters the chat. “How long?”

“It’s a fluid situation.” Dad focuses on Remy’s back. “There isn’t an exact end date.”

“Are you saying this could go on forever?” I can’t keep the horror from my tone. “How could you?—”

“It won’t last forever.” Remy swings around to shoot what seems to be an apologetic look at my father before spearing me with animosity. “Six months. Maybe twelve. Once the situation with the Mexican cartel is resolved?—”

“By resolved do you mean once they’re eradicated?” My pulse quickens. “Do you plan on disposing of an entire cartel in our retort?”

How many people would that be? Twenty? Fifty? Two hundred?

“If necessary,” he growls. “Their organization has been significantly dismantled this week. I anticipate some retaliation for the sake of their pride, but after that things will die down.”

“Dismantled how?” I ask.

“Liv.” My dad speaks softly. “It’s best not to know.”

Maybe. But ignorance isn’t a type of bliss I can achieve now that I know I’m straddling a prison sentence while caught in the middle of a war between the mafia and a cartel.

“This is madness.” I shake my head. “Dead bodies. Mexican cartels. Fired employees.”

“Fired employees?” My father frowns. “Who are you talking about?”

“Hugo.” I fling my arms out at my sides in exasperation. “Ivy found the retort warm when she came into work yesterday morning. And after he was suspected of disposing of his dog months ago, I just assumed…”

Dad cringes.

“That’s why this is such a mess.” My voice hitches. “Carelessness is going to get us caught, if not by the police, then by our staff.”

“It’s okay.” He inches toward me. “I can coach you over the weekend at what to say and?—”

“No.” Remy grates, his cocky calm eviscerated. “I’ll do it. You need to focus on recovery. I’m taking Ollie home.”

My stomach flips, fear and anger performing rhythmic gymnastics inside me.

“Say goodbye to your father.” There’s a warning in Remy’s tone. One that couldn’t have only been heard by me.

I turn pained eyes to my dad, waiting for him to step in. To admonish my tormentor.

All he does is give a sad smile, spreading his arms wide to wrap me in a hug. “I promise it’s going to be okay.”

Dread fills my lungs, making it hard to breathe. “How?” I whisper. “He doesn’t trust me to be alone. He’s going to shadow me.”

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