Code Name - Revenge (Jameson Force Security 9)

Still, we talk by phone every once in a while. He texts to see how I’m doing, and I’ll send him funny memes. I suppose we have a relationship about as deep as a good acquaintance, complete with promises to get together that never happen.

He’s my dad, however, and I knew he’d open up the gates to his compound without reservation and welcome me into the embrace of his protection for however long we need it.

?

The iron gate to my father’s waterfront estate slowly opens when we pull up, which indicates someone is watching on one of the security cameras inside.

“Your dad sure does like the opulent lifestyle, doesn’t he?” Jess murmurs as she takes in the huge Mediterranean-style villa he bought on Key Biscayne a few years ago. It came with a fourteen-million-dollar price tag, or so he bragged on the phone to me. I didn’t doubt it as his accumulated wealth lets him easily afford it.

“He’ll tell you he earned every bit of this with hard work. Now, whether that hard work is legal, who knows?”

Jess snorts. She’s well aware of my arm’s-length relationship with my dad and the myriad of reasons why.

At the apex of the circular driveway, I see Claire Collins’s car. Jess’s mom stands outside it with Thea and my father. He’s squatted in front of my goddaughter and is talking to her. Whatever he’s saying, it has Thea giggling.

Hearing our car approach, my dad straightens and turns. Behind him, I see two of his men decked out in expensive tracksuits at the house’s main entry looking vigilant but without obvious weapons, although I guarantee they’re packing.

I turn off the Suburban, shooting a wry smile at Jess before we get out. She knows this is no easy task, me coming to him for help. I leave my gun on the front seat, knowing I won’t need it here.

My dad walks up to me and gives me a big bear hug with a hard slap on my back. At fifty-two, James Burney is still as strong as an ox, and his voice is deep and gruff. “It’s been too long. Good to see you, son.”

I return the embrace genuinely, because it has been far too long. We may not be thick as thieves in our bloodline, but I do love him. And for the first time in my life, when I’ve needed help, he’s here for me.

“You going to tell me what this is all about?” he asks in a low voice. “Are there going to be cops involved? Do I need to hide you?”

I shake my head, reading between the lines. He doesn’t want cops showing up here, but if they do, he probably has things in plain view that need hiding. “I’ll fill you in later, but I don’t think cops will be involved right now.”

When I called him no more than half an hour ago, I merely told him that a friend was in trouble and that we needed sanctuary at his place for a day. He told me to come right away. He never met Jess or Chase when we were in college, nor Thea since her birth, although he knows about them from past discussions over the years. I never felt compelled to introduce my dad into their lives, and frankly, I didn’t think he’d really care about my friends.

Obviously, my dad having met Claire and Thea already, I turn to introduce Jess. “This is my friend, Jessica Collins.”

My dad smiles at her, holding out a hand, a charming, toothy grin on his face. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Jessica. You are welcome to stay here as long as you need. I see that you get your beauty from your mother.”

My dad shoots a look over to Claire and he’s not wrong.

Claire Collins doesn’t share the same skin color as her daughter, but they share the same facial features. The wide eyes, high, arched eyebrows, rounded cheekbones, and even that stubborn, defiant point to their chins.

Jess was born of a biracial marriage. Her mother is white and her dad, Monte, is black. Jess’s light brown complexion is a perfect blend of both parents and really the only thing that sets her apart in looks from her mom. Claire’s brunette hair is worn in a short, sleek pixie, and Jess has always celebrated her African-American heritage by wearing her hair natural. Both very beautiful women, no matter their skin color.

My dad seems to think so, too, as he flashes another grin at Jess. “Your mom single?”

I roll my eyes and throw a backhanded slap at my dad’s arm. “Cut it out.”

I don’t bother explaining that Jess’s parents are divorced and Monte is remarried and living in Georgia. That would only open the door for my dad to do a lot of flirting, which is in his nature. It’s playful, of course, but it’s not the time.