Page 19 of Pulse
I turn up the volume.
“In other news, Joseph Dallo was in court this morning. As you’ll recall, Dallo, owner of the scrap metal recovery and recycling company known as Dallo Metalworks, is accused of money laundering, mail and wire fraud, and drug conspiracy by prosecutors. George Lee is at the courthouse with the latest. George, can you tell us what happened today?”
A man in a red shirt fills the screen. “Hi, Simone. Attorneys were in court this morning to discuss the defense’s motion to suppress evidence. The defense claims Dallo’s constitutional rights were violated, and all related evidence is therebyinadmissible. The judge is expected to rule on the motion next week. We’ll keep you posted. Back to you, Simone.”
I turn the volume down and toss the remote next to my burger.
My stomach tightens as I think about Dahlia.
“That trial’s going to be a shit show,” Travis says.
“No doubt.”
“Has Dahlia said anything about it?”
I scrub my hand down my face. “No, not really. I get the impression she doesn’t want to discuss it, so I don’t bring it up. It’s none of my business, anyway.”
Travis looks at me, unimpressed.
“We’d only been working together for about six months when she found out Dallo was her father,” I say. “We talked about him a little then. She brought it up when he was arrested, but that’s about it.”
“It would have to be hard for her to know that everyone knows her dad is accused of working with a cartel.”
I lift a brow. He lifts his right back.
“Yeah, well, we know a thing or two about that,” I mutter, sitting back again.
“No one really knows she’s Dallo’s daughter, though, right? Isn’t that what you said?”
I nod. “Yeah. When the whole thing happened and Dallo contacted her, Dahlia was in disbelief for a while. All she knew about him was that he was shady. They agreed to keep her identity quiet and not make it public information. Seems like a good call, in retrospect.”
“Dammit.” Travis glances at his phone. “I’m sorry, Troy. I gotta get going. I need to drop a load of tools off at the jobsite before they lock it up for the night, and Bradley just texted me that they’re winding down over there.” He gets to his feet and reaches for his trash.
“I’ll clean up. Don’t worry about it.”
He grins. “Thanks. Hit me up if you’re not busy this weekend, and we’ll hang out.”
“Will do.”
“Later.”
“Bye.”
He leaves, the door closing swiftly behind him.
I blow out a breath and sink into the leather.
“… money laundering, mail and wire fraud, and drug conspiracy by prosecutors.”
My throat burns as I imagine Dahlia listening to that. She’s so tough, so sweet—so undeserving of being tied up in that shit. But you’d never know it. She always has a smile on her pretty face.
I nibble at my bottom lip, wondering if there’s anything I can do for her.Is she okay? Should I ask her about it or leave it alone?I have no damn clue.
Even if the world doesn’t know Dallo is her father, she does.
And I do.
And it fucking bothers me.
