Page 63 of Dirty Roxie
Daria
I’m not nervous about meeting with my father. At least not in how one would think.
Can he betray me? Absolutely. In fact, I’m expecting it.
Kill me? Possibly. Though he’d need help for sure.
Follow through with his word? Not likely. It’s not in his nature to make good on a promise that was not of his doing to begin with.
So even though I’m only at half capacity with just one working arm, I’m still going into this with the expectation I will need to defend myself. Physically. With weaponry. Emotionally. What I know for sure is, my father was responsible for my mother’s death. Possibly involved with my sister’s. And he put my family in danger. For that, I want him dead.
As far as Andrei is concerned, he kidnapped my best friend. I’m happy to kill him for that alone. But I promised Ronan he could have him, so I’ll need to temper my desires there.
Roxie was a little shook up when we met earlier to go over the last details of the meeting with my father. She said she’d tell me later when I asked about it. I have a feeling it has something to do with Ronan. The two have a unique chemistry, even if they are the very last couple I would ever pair together.
And now I find myself here, with the sun approaching the setting hour, entering the hedge mazes with Mack by my side, knowing that somewhere in there Reed, Ronan, and Roxie lie in wait, ready to defend us in any way necessary.
Thanks to Ronan’s instruction, we’re able to find the clearing where we’re to meet my father in a short amount of time. Only he’s not here yet.
“Think he’ll show?” Mack asks.
“Absolutely. His ego won’t allow him to pack his tail and run.”
“Tuck his tail,” he says with a smile.
“I hate and love it when you correct me. In equal measure,” I say.
“At least you’re consistent.” He winks. Making my stomach flutter the tiniest bit. I love that after all this time, he can still have such an effect.
Uneven footsteps approach. At my request, Mack stands off to the side and a few steps behind me. Arms crossed over his massive chest, an imposing figure for sure.
My father appears in the entry of the small hedge-rimmed space, a cane in one hand, to aid his gait.
“Where’s Andrei?” I ask.
My father waves his hand in the air. “He’ll be here soon. I wanted to speak with you first.”
“We have nothing to talk about,” I tell him.
“I disagree. Andrei plans to come to you with news. He wants to make a deal. I am coming to you first.”
“A deal for what? I have nothing to offer either of you.”
“Protection.”
I laugh, but it comes out bitter. “From what?”
“That’s not important. What is important is that he will try to convince you I was responsible for your sister’s death.”
Everything around me stops. Even though he’d hinted at it last night, and I’d pondered the idea a moment ago, I still found it impossible to believe. How could a parent involve themselves in hurting their child? It makes no sense to me.
“Were you?” I’m surprised and a little impressed by how even my voice is.
“No. Of course not. I would never hurt my child.”
I want to believe him. I really do. But the fact that he’s coming to me first with this alleged information that Andrei has and is lying about it. Well, it doesn’t bode well for him. Not at all.
Viktor continues, “Andrei is the one responsible. And his friend David. They hurt Katya, forced her to do the drugs and be with the men.”
