Page 19 of The Deal

I’d love nothing more than to slide under the sheets and get a few hours of sleep, but I have a load of laundry to do, and dinner won’t cook itself.

I pad down the hallway towards the main room. The house is eerily quiet, so I assume he’s having an afternoon nap in his favourite recliner chair. I scrimped and saved and bought it for him for Christmas. It was second-hand but in excellent condition.

He never fully recovered from the severe beating he got from those thugs. Seeing what has become of him breaks my heart, and I wish I could do more. He’s aged so much over the past few years, and it’s just another worry to add to my ever-growing list.

I peep my head around the corner—just in case he is asleep—and do a double take when I see he’s kneeling on the floor beside his chair. It’s an unusual sight since he now walks with a cane, but that is not what has my heart dropping into the pit of my stomach … it’s the gun that is trained at the side of his head.

Oh, Daddy, what have you gone and down now?

My father’s head is bowed. He looks so defeated, which has my heart constricting in my chest. He’s done somethingto warrant this—this isn’t my first rodeo—but I understand his addiction is an illness. He can’t help who he has become.

Neither he nor the suit-wearing thug with a gun have noticed me yet. I fall back behind the wall, shielding myself from their view. My mind is racing as I try to think of a plan.

Do I slink back to my room and call the cops?That could get messy.Or do I intervene before things get out of hand and try to strike another deal? How I’m going to afford that, I have no clue. I’m still paying off his last debt.

This man looks much more sophisticated than the last two who came here to collect money from my dad. Would he even consider a payment plan? Or will he cut his losses, put a bullet through both of our heads and call it a day?

That thought sends a shiver shooting down my spine.

Neither of us has a life … the only thing we have to live for is each other. I owe my father so much. He could’ve easily abandoned me like my mother did, but he never faltered despite how low he got. The roles may be reversed now, with me looking after him, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I square my shoulders and raise my chin as I step out from behind the wall.

“Who are you? And what are you doing in my house?” I say, with more bravado than I’m feeling on the inside.

My attention remains trained on my father’s assailant, and the moment his gaze snaps to me, and our eyes lock, all the air leaves my body.

It’s him.

My world seems to tilt on its axis as neither of us breaks our stare.

“Well, well, well,” he says, and that deep, sexy baritone voice of his has my skin pebbling with goose bumps. “We meet again, Miss Carmichael.”

How does he know my name?

His dark eyes narrow slightly as if reading my mind. His following words only confirm it. “At least I’ll know your name when we part this time, Chloe.”

He can put that on my gravestone after he shoots me.

I remain speechless for a moment, trying to formulate a reply. “What do you want? And why are you pointing a gun at my dad’s head?”

“I had a nice little chat with your father in your absence. I’m guessing he neglected to tell you that he owes my family a lot of money?”

“Is that true, Daddy?”

“Princess,” he replies, his voice tight as he swallows. He doesn’t need to say anything else; I can hear it in the pitch. “You promised me you would change … that we wouldn’t have to go through this again.”

“I’m sorry,” is his only reply as his gaze moves back to the floor.

The shame is radiating off him, and as upset as I am that he’s just made our lives incredibly harder, I can’t help but feel sorry for him.

I will back my tears as my eyes flicker back to the gun-wielding douchebag. I can’t believe I slept with him.

“How much?” I ask.

“Gathering by”—his hand holding the gun moves around the space as he speaks—“this squalor you call a home, I doubt you could afford to repay even a fraction of what he owes.”

His words have me gasping. “Squalor!” I screech. “How dare you!”

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