Page 103 of The Truths that Deceive

“Really?” The two men are at the bar, talking, and I’m damn sure I won’t even make it near the exit before I’m shoved back down. Though I don’t know where I’d go anyway.

Sure, Smith’s here somewhere in the building, but he’s with the senator and whoever else is involved in the game about the blueprints.

The ones I’m pretty sure I have.

But I don’t get why the CIA is so hot for me. They could have grabbed me in Germany. Instead, they hired Smith.

Or someone did, anyway.

Then again, if I have the blueprints, so do others, and everything is on the databases. I just took stuff to decode, to play with, because I could.

Except for what Johnny asked me to hold.

Stuff I haven’t even opened.

My stomach sinks. Is that it? Is it to do with that?—

“…and a failure. He only cares about himself.”

Dakota sinks back in her chair, arms folded.

I wasn’t listening, not to her words. But I go over the cadence of her voice. It’s not cold. There’s anger, yes, and hurt. And a big fat dose of denial that comes from Smith’s DNA. I can see him in her, but I’m betting she looks a lot like her mother.

Funny how I’m not jealous of the only woman he’s ever mentioned caring for. Then again, they were kids, and I just like to fuck him. I don’t like or love him.

So I don’t know why I even care about his relationship with his daughter.

Maybe because her anger and hurt remind me of Henry and how he feels about our dead mom. He sounds exactly the same.

Dakota opens her mouth and I turn to her. “I don’t know you, and I don’t know Smith that well. But we’ve talked… and maybe you want to sit down and get facts straight. He’s adamant you don’t want him at your wedding.”

“I don’t.” That sounds exactly like Henry, and if I’m honest, me. With him, it’s about Mom, with me…? I’m more introverted than him. Walls up, rejecting everyone before anyone can reject me.

Dakota doesn’t strike me as introverted, but the sentiment is so familiar. I’d like to be more a part of things, which the job gave me, all while keeping my distance. Henry pushes things about Mom into hate because he’s hurt. Dakota rejects her father because he, in her eyes, rejected her. She wants him at her wedding, no matter what she says.

“I think you should talk to him because I got the picture of a man who might sell me down the river but will do anything to keep you safe, even have you hate him. He gave up a lot for you. Maybe the world? His world.”

“You think he’ll love you for this?” she asks. It’s not spiteful, it’s curious, like she sees more in me, too, and it makes me shift on the chair like I’m in the hot seat.

I rise. “I don’t think he loves anyone other than you, Dakota. He’s your father. And he didn’t know about you until… well, until your mother was gone. He decided, because of his lifestyle, to give you up, give up a real relationship, to make sure you grew up safe and stable and happy. And if his sacrifice isn’t love, I don’t know what is.”

Taking a deep, shuddery breath, I step away and walk around the table to her side. “Talk to him.”

With that, I straighten and cross to Reaper and Orion. I take the scotch from Reaper and down it. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

“Two minutes.”

I don’t respond, I just take off so I can break into the phone and get onto my cloud in private.

The bathrooms put the opulence of the ones from the earlier party to shame. Dark rusts and delicate ivory orchids with onyx fixtures make it into something glamorous and chic, something I could imagine for a photo shoot.

If you’re into that kind of kinky shit.

I drop onto on the velvet bench. It doesn’t take much to get it open, her password is just zeros. I shake my head. Such brilliance.

From there, I can get into my stuff on the cloud.

My heart leaps. There’s a message. It’s voice to text.

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