“Who did you report to?”
“The district attorney.”
Fitzpatrick.
52
Tobias
The waiting room is quiet. I’m here despite the fact I don’t want to be. I don’t give a shit what happens to that man; I’m here for Skye. Only for her. Always for her.
From across the room, I see Skye entering the space. She looks broken, and just like that, I spring into action. Moving toward her, I take her in my arms.
She’s crying.
“The doctor said he doesn’t have long. His organs are no longer functioning.”
“Is he—?” I start to ask, but she shakes her head against my chest.
“No. But soon.” She holds me closer. “I need to speak with you.”
“Okay.” I move back and take her hand in mine, pulling her with me until I find an empty room. Once we are standing inside the room, she starts to shake.
This isn’t good. Whatever he told her isn’t good.
“It wasn’t my dad.”
“Bullshit.”
“He told me everything. It wasn’t him.”
I pace. I can’t seem to stand still. Energy courses through me, angry, confused, but I don’t want to take it out on Skye, so I walk back and forth across the hall. “Please.” I inhale, schooling my features, trying my best to not let her see the other side of me. “Talk.”
“At the time, one of the things my father was tasked to do was watch your father’s movements.”
“I’m listening.”
“He had to report his whereabouts.”
“To who?” I bark harsher than necessary, considering where we’re at and why.
“The DA. To Fitzpatrick.”
Before I know what I’m doing, my fist hits the wall. “Fuck,” I yell, balling my hand into a fist, to stave off the pain.
It all makes sense. All the pieces I hadn’t connected now come together. DA Fitzpatrick had high aspirations and, over the years, has risen in rank. His final goal: Attorney General of the United States. That’s what he’s hoping for now, only months from a nomination.
He used the information to take out my father, then cleaned up the city and leveraged the win to further his political agenda.
“Fuck.”
“Yeah,” she mutters, rocking back on her heels.
“We need to take him down. Take them all down.”
Her eyes widen and she takes one big step toward me. “Not my father. Please, Tobias. Let him pass in peace.”
I take a step back, needing the space. This is all a lot and I need to think without the distraction of her hands on me.
“I can’t believe you’re going to let him get away with it. All these years, he’s been living a lie.”
Her hands drop to her side and her head dips to the floor. “It’s not that I’m going to let him get away with it. I just don’t know what to do.”
“He needs to pay,” I growl, curling my hands into fists.
“It’s not that easy.”
Her tone takes on a hard edge and I know I’m pushing, but I can’t stop. We were both put through too much and I want retribution.
“Yes, it is.”
“You need to calm down. He’s dying, Tobias.” When her voice cracks on the last part, some of the fight bleeds out of me.
“Fuck. I’m so fucking angry,” I say, grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling to feel something other than anger. It doesn’t help. “He killed my father. He might not have pulled the trigger, but he was complacent.”
Skye’s mouth opens and shuts as if she doesn’t know how to respond. The search to find the person who killed our parents is supposed to finally be settled, but still, it’s not done. There is one more person we need to take down.
This is bigger than Felix. Bigger than Skye’s father. I look around the room for a few seconds.
“I wanted to know who killed them. But now—” My hands are shaking by my side.
Skye drops her eyes to the ground. “I understand.” And she does. If anyone does, it’s her. “What now?”
“Now I need time to think. Please give me time.”
Then I’m striding out of the room, leaving her alone. Walking out of the building, I need air to breathe.
53
Skye
After Tobias storms off, I’m left standing in the room by myself. I’m not sure where he goes, but one thing I do know is that he’ll be back.
It’s not even fifteen minutes that I’m waiting before he strides back in, pulling me toward him and planting his mouth on mine.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
He doesn’t need to say anything when he starts to move us out of the room. I know him, and I know where he’s taking us.
Together we walk into the hospital room, Tobias holding my hand. The room is stale, the smell of bleach and death overpowering any comforting scents I always associated with hospitals. I sit next to my father, holding his hand. He’s awake but barely. He’s weak. His eyes don’t open when we stand beside his bed.
“Dad?”
They flutter. “Skye?”