Page 48 of Delta: Retribution

“Never called you that before, and I won’t start now.” She sucked in a deep breath. It was a long shot. But her gut feeling said he’d sold her out to Romatar, and that was why they were sitting on a fancy new couch. There was nothing to go on but instinct and Brian’s propensity to feed off of her. “I know what you did.”

Brian’s greasy smile grew. “And what did I do, pumpkin?”

Pumpkin?Her stomach soured. “You knew what I was working on. I told you too much, and you sold that information.”

“Not a chance. But I did always say your job would get you killed. Two close calls? Proves my point.”

“You did that to me. That’s where the new car and house came from.”

“Nope.” Brian shook his head. “Legitimate business dealings.”

“Bull! You can’t even hold down a job. I’ve supported you my whole life.” Even when she didn’t want to, he stole from her. Or siphoned money from her, stealing anything her mom had left or that she foolishly trusted the bank to hold while she was a minor.

Brian chuckled. “You didn’t support your old man that well, either.” He stood and turned his attention to Trace. “If you’re looking for a woman worth a damn, I’d keep looking.”

It happened before she could consider if she wanted to say no. Trace hit Brian, sending him onto the couch in a heap. But seeing her asshole of a father on his butt, scuttling back from Trace… that was what she had wanted. Retribution. Retaliation. Even if she couldn’t prove that he was the one who’d tipped off Romatar, he’d screwed with her for years. “Thanks, honey.”

Trace laughed. “No problem, dear.”

She walked over to Brian. “This is the thing. You could’ve had me killed. You are profiting off something that will kill others. It’s wrong. And even if I want to hurt you, that wouldn’t be the worst that could happen.”

Brian wiped at his mouth, smearing a trickle of blood. “And what is?”

The disdain in his words made her want to ball her fists and copy Trace. But instead, her newfound confidence shook that off. “This…”

She stepped to Trace. He nodded, picking up his phone. “Come on in, boys.”

The door opened. Armed homeland security agents marched inside. They wore full tactical gear, at Trace’s request, even though they were only going to bring Brian in for questioning. The look on her father’s face was priceless—100 percent pureoh-my-fucking-God.

Marlena nodded to the agents. “I might not be what you dreamed of, Brian. But you sure weren’t what a dad was supposed to be either. Good riddance.”

The men had him up and cuffed and were dragging him toward the door with little problem. Brian’s shocked face morphed into anger.

“You’ll pay for this, you little cunt.”

Trace tucked her under his arm. It only took a few seconds before they were alone in the huge house. “Think I enjoyed that too much?”

“What, having your dad interrogated for selling national security secrets and risking your life? I don’t think you enjoyed it enough.”

She sighed into him. “So now what?”

“Now, I go find the weapon you built.” A grimace flashed across his face.

“Why do you look sick?”

“Not sick—” His phone rang. After answering it, he turned away and listened. “Hooyah.”

Trace pocketed his phone with a blank stare.

“What was that all about?”

A smile fought through the grim edges hanging on his face. “Project Cinderella.”

“Excuse me?”

He laughed, but his heart didn’t sound into it. “I volunteered a name for the job.”

“My biological weapon? That Romatar’s going to sell?”

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