Page 17 of Tempt Me (Dark Odyssey 4)

My gaze goes straight to his face. He’s looking at me, and I can’t quite read what he’s thinking.

All I want to know is if Dad’s okay.

The shaking resumes, but cautiously, I rise to my feet and run a hand through my hair while I press into the wall.

“There’s a bed you could have lain on if you were tired,” he states, glancing over at the bed. “Why didn’t you sleep in it?”

With his piercing dark brown eyes trained on me, he walks in, and just from his stride in those black slacks, it’s evident he’s the leader.

He’s tall with solid muscle and has that edge to him that’s rugged and raw. I place him at being in his early to mid-forties for the slight gray that graces his temples. He’s one of these men, though, who could be a hundred and would obliterate a twenty-year-old guy in a fight.

He unzips his black leather biker jacket, revealing a gray T-shirt, then quirks a dark brow to study me. Probably as much as I study him.

He wants an answer to his question. It’s clear he’s not the kind of man you don’t answer, even if you’re scared shitless.

“I didn’t want to sleep,” I reply.

He walks up to me, filling up my personal space, and stops far too close. I try to hold his gaze but can’t, so I bring my hands together and look down at them.

I can’t look at him because I don’t know what he’s done to Dad, and if he’s killed him, I don’t want him to see me crumble if he confirms that as truth.

To my surprise, however, he reaches forward and catches my face, lifting my jaw up with his forefinger so my eyes can meet his.

He’s tall, tall, at well over six feet, and I have to crane my neck to truly look him in the eyes the way he wants. I hate myself for thinking in that moment that he’s handsome. Dangerous and beautiful all at the same time.

“Did you kill him?” I ask, my voice weak and broken with a rasp.

The corners of his mouth slide up into a little smile. It’s like the laugh of sarcasm earlier. Not funny. Not even close. “No, I did not. I’m still trying to decide what to do with the two of you. Especially you, Ava Knight.”

“You… know my name.”

“Don’t you know mine? Your father said it several times. I guess that skipped over introductions.”

A chill races through me. He’s obviously checked me out. What else does he know?

“What are you going to do with him? Is he safe?”

“For now. He’s safe for now. What I’m not sure about,” he pauses and drops his hand from my chin, “is if you truly know who your father is. I don’t know if you’d still think he was worth a trade.”

“He’s not a bad person. He just lost his way,” I say quickly, too quickly.

His brows knit together, and his eyes crinkle. He tilts his head to the side, allowing a lock of his hair to fall over his eye. It draws my attention to the silver taper of the edges.

“Bellezza,” he begins.

Bellezza… I’m familiar with the Italian endearment used often to describe a beautiful woman. I just don’t like it coming from him.

“Bellezza,” he says again with slightly more emphasis. “I think you have a very clouded view of who your father is. No one in that room with you tonight can be considered not bad.” He’s talking about himself too. “You know what’s worse? I keep finding out more things that your father did to rub me the wrong way. Right now, I’m not sure if I should be more upset that my money was used for him to sleep with barely legal girls or if I should be mad as fuck that he tried to drag me into the shit too with the cops or feds.”

I blow out a ragged breath. It can’t be the same person he’s talking about. That’s not my father. He wouldn’t do that.

I look down again, then back to him. “He has a drug problem, and things haven’t been the same for him since my brother died,” I say, but I know it’s useless.

Maybe I’m looking for some kind of explanation that won’t make me feel so ashamed, clutching at whatever I can to explain this whole occurrence. I’m saying all the things that I know are true, but it doesn’t excuse any of what he did.

“I sympathize, but I’m still screwed. If I were to act like your father and truly give into what I’m feeling now, you’d both be dead.”

My breath catches because I know he means it. He’s serious. He’s being serious as fuck, but I don’t know what that means in regard to what he’s actually going to do.

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