Page 4 of A Rebel's Shot

“Did you spend the last fifteen years learning everything there is to know about drilling and government regulations and land contracts and oil production and then have to do it all over again when your dad decided graphite was the new oil? No.”

Joni’s glacial tone and flushed neck had all of Merritt’s muscles tight.

“That was me.” Joni cursed. “I’m the one who put up with Clay, bending to every demand and jumping through his stupid hoops while you were off gallivanting the world without a care about anything or anyone else. All because ‘Oh, Daddy. We just have to take care of the needy people of the world.’”

Joni’s mocking falsetto and hatred for Merritt’s dad snapped something in Merritt. The cold distance she’d used as a shield in her teens against a stepmother who didn’t want her and a stepsister who loved to terrorize her slid into place.

Merritt leaned back in the chair, crossed her arms over her chest, and cocked her head to the side. “I’m sorry you’re disappointed, Jo.”

Joni’s eyes narrowed to slits at the use of the nickname she couldn’t stand. Merritt stifled her smile beforecontinuing.

“I guess you didn’t understand the part of the prenup that said you wouldn’t get Dad’s business or anything that came from it.”

Merritttskedand gave Joni a pitying look. “Maybe you should’ve thought about what that meant instead of just focusing on getting the ring and lifestyle you were chasing.”

“Why you?—”

“If you had, you’d realize that meant you weren’t entitled to anything but what Dad left you. No matter how much you think you deserve more.” Merritt unwrapped her arms and sat forward.

“Now the question is if I should keep you on as the press manager or not? I’d hate for you to lose that inflated salary you’re earning, but I’m just not sure you have the company’s best interests at heart.”

Joni shot to her feet and slammed both hands on the desk. “You don’t want me as your enemy.”

“Oh?” Merritt played up the forced confusion. “I thought that was the role you set years ago?”

Joni stared Merritt down, her jaw clenched so tight her veins popped out in her forehead. Merritt didn’t want Joni around. In fact, if she never saw the woman’s over-botoxed face again, Merritt would be thrilled. But she couldn’t keep an eye on her if the witch left.

Merritt sighed and sat back in the chair. “Listen, Joni. Neither of us expected this, and we can’t change it.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Why don’t we call a truce?” Merritt ignored Joni’s words, but she tucked the threat in the back of her mind. “We both want what’s best for the business. Until we canfigure things out, let’s agree to not be at each other’s throats, shall we?”

Joni straightened slowly, her arms dropping to her sides. She picked up thetap-tap-tapagainst her leg she’d had when she leaned against the doorway. She was calculating, considering all the angles. Merritt could practically see the evil plots lining up in Joni’s head.

Finally, Joni forced a sunny smile that sent a shiver down Merritt’s spine.

“What a perfect way to honor your dear father. The wife he chose and the disappointment he was stuck with hashing out his legacy together.” Joni turned and sashayed out of the room. “It’ll be delightful.”

Merritt closed her eyes and listened to stilettos clicking away on the hardwood floor. She wanted to throw everything off the desk and rail. Wanted to cry out to her dad and ask him why he left her with such a horrible mess.

Instead, she took a breath and reached for her old façade she’d abandoned when she’d taken over the philanthropy part of her dad’s legacy. With her next breath she pulled on the frigid, distant woman she’d made herself into when life in her dad’s house had turned into a soap opera.

She shivered as that part of herself settled on her shoulders and almost yanked it off.

But she couldn’t.

The hard, unapproachable person she used to be was the only way she could survive this mess without cracking. The only way she could get to the bottom of her dad’s death.

And when she was done and had answers, she could go back to the real her. The woman she’d found in the refugee camps filled with joyful kids with distended bellies.

As long as she didn’t freeze solid this time.

THREE

A rusty bright-purple hatchback sputtered and wheezed as it came to a stop in front of Tiikâan as he grabbed his frame hunting backpack and the large McDonald’s to-go bag filled with hamburgers from the cockpit. His childhood best friend Declan unfolded out of the tiny car, a smile stretching across his bearded face.

“Welcome to Utqiagvik, buddy.” He circled the car and wrapped Tiikâan in a crushing hug that lifted him off the ground.

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