Priest tucked her against his side as they moved swiftly to the main doors. Boss was in front and typed in a code, and the door made a beeping sound, letting them inside.
Once in the building, Cleo didn’t feel any sense of relief. There was so much glass everywhere. People could easily shoot her, or Priest, or his men.
They moved toward the elevator, the men surrounding her like a range of mountains. There wasn’t enough room for all of them inside, so she, Priest, Harb, and Boss were the first wave.
Boss pressed the button on the panel, and they traveled up in the elevator, heading toward her … father.
Would she get to meet him tonight?
“What if he doesn’t want me?” Cleo asked.
“Then he’s an asshole who will die tonight,” Priest said.
She chuckled. “You don’t have to kill him for not wanting me. I’m sure there are a lot of people who don’t want anything to do with their kids.” She winced. Cleo had grown up with many in foster care. “That sounds so awful, don’t you think?”
“There are a lot of bad people in the world, Cleo, and trust me, I’ve met most of them.”
She didn’t have to question him to know he spoke the truth.
There were a lot of bad people out there. Her father was supposed to be one of them. Target. What kind of name was that?
The elevator doors opened, and her hands started to shake. They were already clammy.
Stepping out of the elevator, she saw seven men standing in one room. Five men were holding guns, and they wore protective vests strapped with ammo. Two men stood slightly away from the main five.
One had to be Viko, and the other, she assumed was her father. She didn’t know who was who. They both turned toward their group.
One looked at Boss.
The other looked directly at her.
Silence fell in the room, and Cleo couldn’t look away from the man staring at her. Was that Target? Her father? Did he even look like her? Why was she humoring him when she swore up and down she never wanted to meet the people who’d thrown her away as a baby? A lot of brokenness she’d buried came rushing to the surface being in the same room as her blood relative.
Her hand tightened in Priest’s.
Did he know which one was her father?
Boss stepped forward, as did the other man.
“Boss,” he said.
“Viko.”
That meant the man looking directly at her had to be her father. After so many years of imagining this moment, of building up a twisted fairy tale, this was not one of those she had ever thought of. He was a killer.
She stared into his eyes that were cold and dead.
“Target, are you not going to greet your daughter? A lot of effort has been made for you two to get this special moment,” Viko said.
Cleo looked at him and tilted her head to the side. This man was her father. She couldn’t stop thinking of the word, dad. Dad. Father. This was her … parent. The words felt foreign. This was no Hallmark moment.
Target glanced down at her chest, and then she heard the bellow.
“Get down!”
Glass shattered, and she saw Target charge toward her. In the next second, she was on her back as more glass started to break. The sounds were deafening, and she struggled to breathe, all the air forced from her lungs.
They were under attack.