"And what would you know about caring for anyone?" I yell. "You and your family leave blood wherever you go. My father was just one more body to you."
"Your father deserved what he got," Dimitri says, his voice stern.
Rage explodes inside me and I see red.
I start hitting him.
Slapping. Punching. He brings his right arm up and blocks every damn swing I give from hitting his face.
He laughs.
At first, that only upsets me even more, but my adrenaline quickly diminishes and my hand starts throbbing from connecting with his shoulder, bicep, and forearm.
I stop, brushing my hair from my face, eyes burning with frustration. I brace for retaliation but it doesn't come.
"Are you done?" he asks with a grin.
"FUCK!" I scream, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes.
We get to a fork in the road and Dimitri slows the car, and I can tell he's thinking of how to proceed with me.
"Look, I just want to know who you're working for. Who set you up? Why me?"
I wipe my face.
"Someone had to pay," I say, voice shaky. "My mother, she killed herself after he died. She swallowed pills because she couldn't live without him. And he was barely around. You understand what that's like? To be the one left behind? To know you weren't enough?"
For once, the great Dimitri doesn't fire back, and to my surprise, his stoic sternness softens and he sighs and rubs his face.
Maybe he sees how pathetic I feel.
"You had to know kidnapping me wouldn't fix that."
"I thought there would be justice. For her. For me."
"There's no justice in this world, Athena," he says. "Just survival."
I look down at the photos in my lap. I have to give him something.
"John G. said you'd confess," I admit. "Said you'd tell me everything."
"Who is John G.?" His voice drops. "Was he a friend of your father's?"
I shake my head. "I don't know. He approached me after my mother's funeral. Said he knew things about my father's death, things that were covered up."
"And you just trusted him?"
"I didn't have anyone else." The words scrape my throat. "I was alone. He had proof. Or what looked like proof."
Dimitri's gaze sharpens. "And what was his price?"
I hesitate.
"Come on. Money? Promises of a better life? What?"
"He said," I stop and clear my throat, "okay, at first, all I had to do was bring you to them. They'd get you to confess and justice would be served, and they'd, umm, they'd kill you. Then I wanted to do it, but we know how that turned out."
Dimitri nods and picks a direction to start driving again.