Page 46 of Queen of Blades

Closing her eyes, she tried to find the reassurance in his embrace. Desperately, she longed for the safety she once felt in his presence. Unfortunately, she remained a ball of staticky nerves as she cautiously returned his affection.

Pulling back, her father, looking older and wearier than when she’d last seen him, cupped her face.

“What happened to your cheek?” he barked, more to Paul than to her.

“It’s nothing,” she said and rested her palm on his hand. “I’m fine.”

His eye twitched as he slowly let his hands fall away from her. He stuffed them into his pockets before turning his attention to Paul. “Whatthe fuckis going on?”

The muscles along Paul’s jaw tightened, and the death glare he shot her dad was unmistakable. “You don’t know?”

This would not go well. Paul already had beef with her father from decades ago.

“I told you,” Harper tried. “It has nothing to do with him.”

Her dad flicked his gaze between them but returned to Paul when he spoke. “I know a lot of things. Shit has been out of hand lately. Some deals went sour. We’re having a rough go of it.”

Harper glared at him. “Rough go?” What the hell did that mean? She’d purposely stayed out of his business affairs—conflict of interest and all—but that seemed to have been a bad idea.

“We’re still managing the fallout from what Diesel had to do.”

Her brows rose. Diesel—Dwight. “Wait a minute.” She held up a hand. “You mean where he shot up that strip club, and youbeggedme to defend him? You said he made a mistake. It wasn’t sanctioned, and you’d handle him yourself. Now you’re saying hehadto do it?”

Her dad inhaled deeply and lifted his chin. “He’s my VP.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” All her confusing and conflicting emotions about this meetup had gone right out the window. Now she was pissed.

“I need him on the outside. No one would’ve given him a better shot at that than you.”

She shook her head. If it were possible to spit nails, she would. She was so angry with him right now. “You ordered him to do it, then had me try to get him off for it?”

“I did what had to be done for my club.”

“What about your daughter?” Paul snapped.

Yeah. What about her? Did he care that he put her in the line of fire for all this?

“You realize you could be the reason there’s a target on her back right now?” Paul roared.

Her dad refused to look at her. Instead, his bushy beard shifted ever so slightly with his jaw. “Shit’s messy.”

“Ya think?” Harper wanted to kick him square in the nuts.

“Listen.” He finally made eye contact with her, and to her surprise, despite being bloodshot, they were soft. Almost as though there was some remorse in there. “I thought I could handle it. You’d do your thing and be in and out. I didn’t think there’d be enough time for this.”

She shook her head, her heart breaking that her dad would be so careless with her life.

“You’re probably in the safest hands,” he said softly, catching her off guard.

Paul narrowed his eyes at him, clearly unprepared for that statement.

“The clubhouse is…” He trailed off and reached for her hands.

Pulling away, she eyed him warily.

His shoulders slumped, and his arms dropped to his sides. “Paul’s crew is better equipped to keep you safe right now. I hate to admit it, but I’m not stupid. Until this war dies down—”

The loud crack echoed off the walls moments before the dark hole appeared in her father’s forehead. His head flew back. Warmth splattered across her face. A series of booms followed, and his arms flailed, his chest shaking, as he dropped to the ground.

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