Page 87 of Hot Pursuit
Are you okay?
Are you hurt?
Are you—
Jo shook her head, unable to conceive of a life without her best friend—her brother—in it. The world blurred, and then strange bits and pieces came together to form a clear scene, one she didn’t know how to face.
“It’s my fault,” she confessed softly. The realization made her flinch.
Her father darted a glance in her direction.
Jo closed her eyes and squeezed against the pain, the doubts, the fear. “It’s my fault, Dad. They were following me. I was meeting with— I was talking to— I— I—” Jo opened her eyes and found her father’s. They were so similar, the deep green of an old dollar bill or a palm leaf in the shade. But had either of them truly seen each other until this moment? Ever noticed all the minute differences that would tear them apart? “I made a deal with the Feds.”
He didn’t move.
Didn’t react.
He blinked twice and remained silent, waiting for her to continue. Every other inch of him was frozen.
“An agent approached me, and I don’t really even know why, but I listened to what he had to say. And he told me, about you, about what you were doing. He let me take his files, everything they had on you. He offered me immunity to get you on record, on a wire, to hand you in. And I said no. I wasn’t going to do it. But I have to, Dad, don’t you see? We have to. Together.”
“Jolene…” His tone was a strange mix of defiance and resignation, of fight and surrender, and it trailed off into silence, as though unsure which side should win out.
“They areevil, Dad. Evil. How could you— What in the world—” She broke off as her voice cracked. But one single word was all she needed to say. It came out rough and demanding, as hard as the diamond engagement ring she knew he still wore around his neck, the one belonging to her mother. “Why?”
He stood from his chair and knelt before her, taking both of her hands in his, looking up into her eyes so she couldn’t look away, forcing her to listen. The lines of his face were protective and caring, fatherly in a way that brought her back to the last time they’d sat like this, in a sterile hospital waiting area, when he told her that her mother had died. He’d sent her from the room so she wouldn’t hear those ragged, gurgling breaths, but Jo had listened with her ear pressed to the door, her eyes straining to see through the frosted glass, holding on for dear life to those last moments. It felt the same now. Like an end of something. The end of her youth perhaps. The end of believing her father was a hero. The realization that he was a man, just a man like any other, who had made mistakes—grave, terrible mistakes.
“We did it to protect you,” he said softly.
“Protect—”
“Let me finish, Jolene,” he scolded, voice gentle but not to be disobeyed.
Oddly, that conviction calmed her, because it reminded her of the father she knew, the one she loved. Jo shut her mouth and did what she was told, something completely against her nature—she listened.
“When Thad’s father died, I was planning to retire. Thad was about to graduate college. You know this, you remember. I saw that you’d held yourself back, remained home out of worry for me, out of loyalty to me, and I knew I had to let my old life go. Give you and Thad both a chance to be better, to be different. I was all set to cut off ties with my contacts, some friends, some not, and I left the island to do just that. But when I landed in the States, I was intercepted by members of the Russian mafia, thrown into a van, bag over my head, gun to my neck, and taken to a meeting point. When I got there, they told me Thad’s father, the partner I’d worked with all my life, had been working with them on the side. I had no idea. At first, I didn’t believe them, but the proof was right before my eyes. Photographs. Phone logs. Messages. And they told me they’d killed him because he’d been about to go to the Feds.”
Jo gasped. “But the car crash—”
“Deliberate. They messed with his brakes in a way that was undetectable by the cops, made to look like a malfunction, not foul play. But it was murder. And then they told me I had a choice—finish the work my partner had started or watch my only child, my daughter, die.”
Jo’s mouth dropped open, but she was too shocked to speak.
“They knew I’d rather be killed than work for them, but they knew I would never risk your life, so I agreed. And when I got back to the island, Thad was there. One look in his eyes and I knew he’d been offered the same deal. So we kept you out of it as best we could and did what we were told, to keep you safe. Always to keep you safe.”
Jo took a long, uneven breath, hating the only question that had come to mind, but unable to stop herself from asking it. “Am I safe, Dad? Are you? Is Thad?”
No.
They both knew the answer.
Jo could see her father teetering, one foot balanced on the edge as he fought not to fall one way or the other. “This was supposed to be the last job.”
“Do you really believe that?” She squeezed his hands, forcing him to listen. “Do you really think they would’ve ever let you go?”
He held her gaze but didn’t say a word.
“Let’s end this, Dad. The Feds will keep us safe. I—I trust them. We’ll never be able to make things right. We’ll never be able to reverse the horrible things we’ve been a part of. But we can stop it. Here. Now. We can stop them. All it will take is one phone call.”
