Unwritten Rules (Filthy Florida Alphas 3)

“An accident.” My father shrugs, like it’s no big thing—and maybe to him it’s not. I don’t bother controlling my reaction to his words. I grab the first thing I find, which is a ceramic statue of a dragonfly sitting on a shelf where I’m standing. I grab it quickly and hurl it at my father. It crashes into his face. The men holding him duck as it bounces off of him and then crashes to the floor. “You bitch!” my father screams and lunges at me again. He almost gets to me right before Marcum’s men grab him tighter. I spit at him, because I can, because I hate him and because I figure I’m going to die today and when I do, I at least want the satisfaction of letting everyone know how much I hate my own father.

“Why do I get the feeling I’m not getting the whole story here?” Marcum asks, pulling my attention back to him. I look up at him, my breathing hard because of my anger.

“Let me go and I’ll teach her some manners,” my father growls.

Marcum laughs, but it’s not a sound filled with joy. This laughter is dark, tainted… and it sends chills down my back. This is a man you shouldn’t get close to—a man you should run from. Which I would gladly do, if I could get free.

“You’re going nowhere, Weasel. In case you haven’t figured that out,” Marcum says. “Tie him up in the back, then burn it down,” Marcum orders.

I blink. He orders my father’s death so easily it takes my breath away. I knew it was coming and the man means nothing to me—not after everything he has put me through, yet somewhere still in the back of my mind is the thought that I should plead for my father’s life…

If I don’t, does that make me as bad as the rest of them?

“You can’t do that! You have to give me a chance here!” my father begs. I could tell Marcum it doesn’t matter how much my father begs, he’ll never make things right. My father is great at leaving people in the lurch… He’s great at hurting people. It’s kind of his specialty.

Marcum walks to my father, bends down and picks up the statue of the dragonfly that I threw earlier. It’s broken in two pieces, the actual base broken away from the statue itself. He drops the base back to the ground and holds the dragonfly, staring at it. His large hand nearly swallows up the piece. It was an old keepsake of my grandmother’s. I hate that I broke it, but I lashed out without thinking.

“What do you think, Dragonfly? Should I give him another chance?” he asks. At first I think he’s asking the statue, but when I look up his eyes are trained on me. I want to scream no, but I can’t bring myself to sign my father’s death warrant when it comes down to it. Before I was leaving my father to Marcum, but I wasn’t actually sticking around to see what happened. This feels different and I can’t find myself cruel enough to help make the decision to kill him. So, even though I know better, I nod my head yes.

“Marcum—” one of his own men starts to interrupt, but Marcum cuts him off.

“Your daughter thinks you’re worth sparing,” Marcum says, looking over at my father. “I wonder if she thinks you will actually pay me back, Weasel.”

“Of course she does! She knows I’ll pay you, Marcum. It’s just going to take a few days until my markers I called pay me back!”

“Well, Dragonfly? Will your old man pay me back?” His gaze focuses on me again. I start to shake my head yes, but he stops me. “Don’t lie to me now. I expect your father to lie. I’d like to think I can trust you—at least a little more than your old man.”

I rub my lips together. I want to say yes, but I don’t want to lie to Marcum. Lying to a man like him can be dangerous for the health. I spare one last glance at my father and read the warning in his eyes. I turn to look at Marcum and shake my head no.

I hear my father yelling and calling me names, but I tune it out, my face never leaving Marcum.

“She’s a lying cunt!” my father screams and my brain registers that, because some words can’t be ignored.

“You should watch your mouth. She’s saving your life,” Marcum warns.

My attention goes back to him as I hear my father question, “She is?”

“She’s buying you time, Weasel. Time for you to get my money.”

“I’ll get it! I promise! I’ll get it.”

“I don’t trust you. That’s why I’m taking collateral.”

“Collateral?”

“Something of yours to keep until you pay me back.”