The Bandit (The Stolen Duet 1)

“I’m sorry!" Terror has stricken her smooth, pale face.

“No. You’re not.” I set her upright again and push her against the wall. “But you will be if you threaten me again.”

Leaving her standing there looking too afraid to breathe, I lock myself in my bedroom.

I shouldn't have been trusted with her.* * *Her father didn’tshow up that Sunday. Two days turned into an entire summer with us at each other’s throats. I began to think Theo had forgotten about his daughter altogether when he finally showed up at the end of summer. But he came with news neither of us waswilling to accept.

“Daddy, what do you mean I have to stay here? For how long?” Her tone wasn’t one she should be using with her father, but he indulged her anyway.

“For a while.”

“But what about school?”

“You’re going to transfer to a school here in Chicago.”

I looked at my father who watched Theo’s daughter with a small grin. He was amused by her bratty behavior, but I knew he wouldn’t accept the same for me.

“Dad?”

“Yeah, son?”

“I’m not sure what’s going on…”

His grin dropped and his gaze hardened. “You wanted a slice of the pie. This is your way in.”

“What about Mom?”

“While I’m alive, your mother doesn’t make the decisions when it comes to you… or her,” he answered frigidly. I simply nodded because I knew my acceptance was all he expected. He was good to my mother and me. He even loved us, though some would disagree. His hard exterior was sometimes hard to turn off because of the hazards of his job.

“Daddy, I don’t want to stay here with him. He’s mean.”

Her father’s gaze flitted to mine. I expected anger but instead, got sympathy. Perhaps her father wasn’t as oblivious to her spoiled behavior as I thought. “Are you sure it’s not because he doesn’t let you have your way?”

“I’m not staying here with him. I’ll run away.”

“Excuse me?”

She either missed the hard edge his tone took or didn’t care. “You heard me.”

I looked at my father who didn’t seem to find her brattiness cute anymore. Instead, he watched Theo to see what he would do. Meekness wasn’t something my father aspired to have or even understood. If Theo didn’t correct her behavior, I knew my father would. I stood back to watch it all unfold and even fought a smile.

“I will not explain myself to you butyou,little girl, will do as I say.” She opened her mouth to argue, but Theo’s hands flew to his belt. He unbuckled it with sure fingers and whipped it through the loops until it was free. Folding it, he stared down at his defiant daughter who looked as if she’d found her senses. “Are we clear?”

Rather than answer, she turned and walked away. I could see she was crushed and just a little bit fearful. I tried to put myself in her shoes and knew I wouldn’t have reacted any less defiant. She’d only lost her mother four months ago, and now she was being uprooted from the only home she had known.

Just before she passed me, she stopped and stared at me directly. There was nothing in her eyes. They were blank from defeat.

“I hate you.”

Soundlessly, she left the kitchen, and I couldn’t help but think I would have hated me, too.

I glanced at Theo. He stared after her—his stance was relaxed now. I think we were all relieved that she hadn’t fought him. He didn’t want to hurt her any more than she wanted to be hurt.

My father cleared his throat in a subtle command for my attention. I gave it to him. He stood and closed the distance between us. His strong grip seized my shoulder. “Don’t fuck this up, son. This is the only chance you’re getting.”Chapter SevenA missing legacy.

ANGEL

PresentI made Lucasset Mian free because while I had a secret fetish for self-torment, I knew I wasn’t ready to see her again. Hours later, her presence lingered in my father’s home. I swore I could smell her scent. The possibility raised the hairs on my skin.

Lucas said he found her in my old bedroom hiding under the bed of all places. The knowledge that she hadn’t changed pleased me when it shouldn’t have. She was impulsive and challenging. Perversely, I liked that she still had fight left in her.

I looked forward to breaking her spirit.

Instead of my old bedroom where Lucas had found her, instinct led me to my father’s study in the west wing.

The door was left cracked, something I would never do, so I pushed it open and took in the havoc she wreaked. The desk and bookshelf had been left untouched. My inspection of the room shifted to my right where six generations of bandits were displayed proudly.

The last two in the lineup were missing from their rightful place. The safe hidden behind my own portrait had been discovered and left exposed.