Page 81 of The Rebel King

I shouldn’t be surprised by now, but I am. Owen always used to say our father knew where we were at all times.

You called it, O.

I seem to talk to Owen more now than I did when he was alive, entire conversations I probably would never have initiated. Now, after Lennix, he’s the first person I want to share things with.

“I’ll be back,” I tell Lennix, leaving the balcony and heading into our bedroom.

“Is that your way of telling me not to come down?” she asks softly, following me.

“No, that’s my way of trying to spare us all a battle royale. If you want to see my father that badly, you can, of course.”

“It’s not that.”

I stride back to her, tilt her chin up. “I’m always fine with anyone knowing you’re with me. You’re what I’m proudest of, Nix.”

I mean it. She probably doesn’t believe me, but earning the love of this woman is the greatest thing I’ve ever done, and I want to keep doing it for the rest of my life.

I drop a quick kiss in her hair. “I better get down there to see what my dad wants.”

I bound down the stairs, automatically pulling my armor in place. My father and I haven’t actually been at odds since weargued about Lennix at Christmas, but we haven’t been around each other. The week of the funeral, by tacit agreement we called a cease-fire, both wanting to support Mom and Millie and honestly needing the support of each other. Owen’s only been gone a month, and though I’ve spoken to my mother regularly, checking on her at least a few times a week, this will be my first contact with my father.

And it’s a sneak attack from him.

When I reach the bottom of the stairs, he stands in the middle of the living room, scowling at Rick.

“I didn’t ask for or need an escort,” he says, his deep voice like a mallet crushing the words over Rick’s head. “He’s my son.”

Even when we’ve been estranged for a decade and a half, there’s always a certain possessiveness to my father’s voice, always has been when he spoke of Owen and me.

“Rick’s simply doing his job, Dad.” I walk closer and smile at Rick.

“I won’t need an escort back either,” Dad says.

“It’s a big property,” I say, trying not to be annoyed. “Rick’s just helping.”

“Well, you can go,” he tells Rick.

Except Rick works for me. He looks to me, brows lifted, silently asking to be released. I nod and wait for him to leave. I sit, gesturing to the collection of couches and recliners in the middle of the room.

“Have a seat. Everything okay? Mom all right?”

“She’s doing as well as can be expected.” He sits, seeming to hesitate before going on. “Thank you for calling so often. It’s been helping her.”

“I wish I could say I’ve spoken to Millie as much, but she rarely answers her phone.”

“She’s lost the man she loves,” my father says, his voice uncharacteristically pensive. “If I lost your mother, I wouldn’t want to talk much to anyone for a long time either.”

I know he loves Mom, but he hasn’t said it often. I stare at him,searching out any other discernable differences between this more subdued man and the ruthless tyrant I’ve known all my life.

“Any more leads on Keene?” Dad asks, his tone soft but dangerous.

I had to share what we knew with my parents and Millie so they could be on high alert in case Gregory tried to get to me through any of my other family members. Millie was quiet when I told her. She didn’t scream or weep. No accusations, which I would have welcomed like a scourge on my back. Just that silence, goodbye, and theclickwhen she hung up. She must hate me. There are so many mornings I wake up and the first thing I think about is my brother being dead because of me, and I hate myself, too.

“No,” I answer my father’s question. “He’s lying low, but he’ll pop up when we least expect it.”

“I want that bastard to get the death penalty.”

“Oh, he’ll get what’s coming to him.” I don’t mention that I don’t intend to hand over the privilege of punishing him to anyone else. They’ll find him criminally insane, which is probably true, and he’ll live a nice, comfortable life in some asylum, or they’ll bungle it some other way. I don’t have time or tolerance for all the ways our system screws up justice.

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