Page 97 of Redd

I wasn't sure if that would piss him off or make him elated. I saw everything, but the one thing that mattered—remorse.

Fear, anger, unbridled emotion as his skin bristled and his face turned beet red. “You—you did this.”His jaw clenched as he spoke, teeth grinding into each word. “It's because of you that my family's life is in danger now.” Slamming both fists on the table, the muscles in his face twitched. “This is all because of you! I had it all under control and you fucked it up!”

That's your response? You berate me like I did something wrong?

I didn't lose my shit with him, I didn't get nervous or edgy. I became grounded. It was exciting for me in a twisted way. To watch as my presence got under his skin, to see him not know which way to look or what to say, but to clearly see that I had gotten a rise, that fed the sinister growth inside me.

That part was my father, it was his breath turning my blood to tar and creating the pleasure that brewed deep in my gut. Normally it made me sick to my stomach, but right there, right at that very moment, I cradled it like a lucky four leaf clover.

How dare he shove Bijou to the side like she doesn't matter!

Rising to my feet, I pressed my fingertips into the desk. “You gave your innocent child to a fucking murderous bastard. Tell me why?”

“It's not that simple. . .” Pierre arched his neck, looking up at me as shame turned his dark brown pupils into gray clouds. “I didn't have a choice.”

“Everyone has a choice, it doesn't matter what the situation is.” Baring my teeth, I veered my stare. “Don't give me that shit. You're a grown fucking man, you make your own decisions.”

His fingers dug into his thighs, gripping the fabric of his gray suit. The stress he felt melted off his skin, dropping large beads of sweat over his temples. “You don't understand.”

“Oh I understand—” Throwing a finger in his face, I brought myself in as close as I could get. “You're too much of a fucking pussy to handle your own problems. Instead of fixing what was broken, you took the easy way out and gave up your daughter. What kind of father are you?”

His eyes turned to glass, flashing with affliction. “I tried, I really tried. But he was going to kill them all, he said he would kill them and make me watch. I did what I thought was right—”

Cutting him off, I couldn't stand to listen to his pathetic excuse. “You tried?” Snatching the collar of his suit, I yanked him into the desk, allowing millimeters to separate us. I wanted him to know exactly what he had put on her, everything that he had given to her by saying three measly letters—yes.

Does he have any idea how that changed her?

“Let me tell you exactly what you did.” Through clenched teeth, I bitterly spat in his face. “Your decision got your daughter beaten, she was held in a fucking closet, scarred, burned. . .” Sadness washed over him, painting his gaze in liquid guilt. “And. . .” I couldn't say it.

He had no fucking clue.

The look on his face was more than enough to know he was oblivious to everything his daughter had gone through. I couldn't stand there and condemn this man for what someone else did.

“He said he would treat her with respect, he promised me that he wouldn't hurt her.” His face trembled, head shaking side to side. “Please, don't hurt me, I didn't know.”

I believed him. My heart pranged like a china cymbal, destroying my insides. Shoving him back into his seat, I stood tall, throwing my hands into my hair. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

It would be a fucking lie if I said the urge to knock him square in the jaw hadn't gone through my head. I just couldn't.

Despite how he had blindly tossed his daughter to the wolves, he was living in a fictional world where bad guys stood by their word.

“But you say she's alright? You know where—” The door to the office creaked open, causing Pierre to shift his eyes around my body. His jaw hung open, pupils turning into pools of ice.

“I believe you have something that belongs to me.” I heard his voice first, slicing through the thick air and cutting into my ears.

I didn't have to look, I knew who it was.

Pierre pushed back in his seat, palms up and open defensively. “I don't know who this man is, Diablo. He just showed up.”

“I know who he is, I know exactly who he is.” An evil smile spread up his cheeks as he took a small step into the room. “I've been waiting for you, I knew eventually you'd end up here again. Humans are creatures of habit, it just took a little longer than I expected.”

Dressed in a charcoal black suit, a smug grin filled his face. His fingers steepled against his chest, eyes heavy and empty. Rich black hair was peppered in white streaks, tall and lean, his shoulders were wide.

Two men blocked the doorway, one I didn't know, but the other I recognized instantly.

Val. . . He didn't die.

Diablo followed my eyes, and laughed. “I believe you've met Val already.” Turning towards the door, he hung his head. “Val, don't be rude, say hello.” He didn't nod to acknowledge his boss's request. All I could see was angry teeth and deadpan eyes. “Well, I guess I can't blame you, I'd be pissed if someone shot me too.”

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