Page 49 of Queen of Blades

Dead.

As the car jerked and Paul switched lanes, she turned. Were they being followed? Scanning the headlights of those behind them, she couldn’t tell. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. She faced forward and sank back in the seat. If they were, she wasn’t driving, so there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

Staring out the windshield, she sniffled. Her tears had stopped, but her heart ached. Her father hadn’t been a perfect man, and he did bad things, but he loved her. He never purposely did things to hurt her. Was he misguided at times? Absolutely. His choices were questionable, but she never thought they’d catch up with him.

“Where are we going?” she asked, realizing they’d been on the road far longer than she’d expected. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed, cocoon herself in the blanket, and try to forget the world.

This just couldn’t be happening.

“Someone is following us,” Paul said as he glanced in the rearview mirror. “I’m doing my best to go out of my way and lose them before I head back to the house.”

She nodded. “I need to call my sister and my brothers.”

“Eddie’s on it.”

“What?” She gaped at him. “They don’t know him.”

“Eddie deals with Little Junior from time to time,” Paul offered.

Harper couldn’t help but cringe at her brother’s road name. Weston was the spitting image of their dad, and the club picked up on it and started calling him Junior. And since he was so small, Little got attached. Considering their father brought the boys around the clubhouse before they could walk, it was inevitable they’d join.

“I’m sure he’ll get the word out to them,” Paul assured her.

At least her family wouldn’t have to worry about her safety. If Weston knew, he’d make sure her mom, Remi, and Colt would too. The clubhouse would definitely go on lockdown, which meant the riffraff that normally hung around there wouldn’t be allowed in. Her family would be safe—for now.

Paul rested a hand on her thigh. “I’m sorry.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“You lost your dad.”

“That’s not your fault.”

“I never said it was.”

As convenient as it would be to blame Paul, considering he arranged the meeting, it wouldn’t be fair. The consequences of her father’s decisions finally caught up with him. Paul just happened to be there. It was inevitable.

That knowledge didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Then why the apology?” she asked.

“Because I can tell it hurts.”

Empathy from a cold-blooded killer looked good on Paul. Odd but interesting. She raised her chin and gazed out the window, watching the scenery pass by. It didn’t deserve a response.

“It’s not your fault either,” he added.

“I didn’t claim it was.”

“I know, but I don’t want you getting all in your head thinking things would’ve gone any different. Your dad has been fucking shit up for a while.”

She nodded. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“Just promise me you aren’t sitting there thinking you did this.”

“I’m not.”

“Don’t lie to me.” He squeezed her leg.