Page 84 of Nothing To Lose
“What if I could keep him out of prison?”
I stiffen. “You can’t.”
“I can,” he says. “If you come work with me. Go to law school. Become my partner. Take over the firm one day. You do that, and I’ll make sure Isaac Casey walks free.”
My heart stutters. “That’s not how the system works.”
He smirks, loving the reminder of his own prowess. His power. “No. But it’s how I work.”
I don’t believe him. I can’t.
I think of Isaac. Of the way he looked the first morning I woke up in his room, the way his voice sounded in the dark, low and steady as he promised I was safe. I think of his hand on the small of my back when we walk together, the way he laughs when he’s surprised, full-bodied and beautiful. I think of the way he kissed me after our first fight, like forgiveness was sacred.
So I don’t say no.
Instead, I ask, “What’s the catch?”
"I gave Guy that job because I needed Senator Montague's support," he says, voice too even. "I didn’t think you’d actually…take an interest. You’re so quiet all the time, I assumed you understood the assignment. String him along. Be nice—cordial. Keep the Montagues comfortable. I didn’t realize he’d take liberties."
I blink at him. “You’re telling me you expected me to pretend to be interested in him?”
He doesn’t answer. Which is answer enough.
“And you just ignored all the red flags,” I press. “Because it was convenient. Because it was politically expedient.”
His jaw ticks. "It was a calculated risk. But I never thought he'd actually– He was lazy,” my father admits. “Entitled. Treated the interns like his assistants. But I didn’t think… I didn’t think he’d treatyoulike that.”
“He thought I was some sort of trade,” I say, my voice cold. “Like I owed him something for your political gain. Because you treat me like a pawn. Just another chip on your board.”
Talon’s expression darkens. “That was never my intention. I never expected you to be anything but cordial. I didn’t know he–”
“Being polite doesn’t mean I was interested. Being kind doesn’t mean I consented.”
He concedes with a nod. “You’re right. And I’m sorry. I should’ve stepped in sooner.”
I face away, not able to look him. This man who is supposed to be my father—who has never done anything but let me down, while pointing out all the ways I disappoint him.
“You should have. But you wouldn’t have. But even if I’d called you that night, I have a feeling you would have been angry at me for inconveniencing you. Even if you’d seen me, battered and bruised, you would have asked me what I did to provoke him.” I scoff. “You know there’s footage, and you’re probably wondering if it’s incriminating enough. If it actually proves anything, because you’d still like to pretend that I’m some silly, weak little boy who will never measure up to a man like you. I’m done being your pawn, father. With or without Isaac, I’m not coming back to you. So don’t bother making false promises and trying to manipulate me. There is no part of me that is interested in making deals with you.”
"I’d like access to the footage," he says, voice lower now. "From the restaurant. I don’t need it to believe you. I’d like access to the proof so I can make sure he’ll never dare to put his hands on you again." He stiffens, and for a moment, I see something unfamiliar flicker across his face. Something raw, like rage. "He’ll be punished for what he did," he says through clenched teeth. "No matter what happens with Isaac. That I promise you. He laid his hands on my son.A Valdin. That won’t stand. No one disrespects my son and gets away with it."
His expression is sharper than I’ve ever seen it. His lips are pressed thin, eyes burning with the cold fury of a man who’s used to dealing with enemies behind closed doors, not in alleys with fists. It’s the first time he’s ever looked like he might actually hurt someone himself.
I laugh, short and bitter. “You mean no one disrespectsyou.This isn’t about justice. It’s about your image.” I shoot back. “As if you know anything about respect. As if you’ve shown anyone respect in your life. You demand it, but you never once showed Isaac the respect he actually deserved.”
“You aren’t wrong.” His mouth tightens. “He’s certainly earned it. He helped you, and what’s more, you’ve grown since you met him. You have the confidence of a Valdin now.”
I want to roll my eyes, but I hold back. The truth is, Isaac gave me that strength. Not my name.
“What’s the catch?” I ask again.
“You get your degree at Stanford. To give you space from everything here, to heal from the aftermath of your traumatic event.”
“Stanford? Why so far away?”
“I think you need some space to heal and gain perspective. I respect what Mr. Casey has done for you, but I don’t believe a relationship based on codependence is healthy. If anything, a few years long distance could strengthen your bond, but if not, then you’ve avoided making a mistake that could ruin your future.”
“Three years,” I say, mind reeling, heart aching.
