Knocked Up by the Killer - Page 51

“I came here to get closer to you, kid,” he said. “I can’t just walk away. My reputation’s at stake.”

“So this isn’t about me then.”

“It is,” he said. “And it was. But now I’ve gone too far.”

“So it’s about you again then,” I said. “It’s all about your reputation.”

“What I do, I can’t afford to look soft. If I look soft for one second, they put a bullet in my head.”

“Then you shouldn’t have come here.”

“Too fucking late for that.”

“Dad. Sit down. Make a deal. You can both profit from this, you know it’s true.”

“Tanner told you that, huh?” He cocked his head. “I know he’s been talking to the Leones. I know he’s been pushing them to make some deal. Is this your way of playing his game? Is that why you’re here?”

I wanted to stand up and scream in his face. I wanted to shout that I was pregnant and I was terrified. I ran away from Tanner because I was too scared to be around him anymore, even if he’s been the only person to really protect me in this whole thing.

“No,” I said. “I’m telling you to make that deal for your sake. And for mine. Tanner’s not a part of this anymore.”

“Yeah, I bet. Probably you get a cut of whatever deal I make, huh? Is that how you arranged it?”

“Dad,” I said, feeling my anger rise. “You want me to stay? You want to have a relationship? Then you better get control of yourself.”

He opened his mouth and was about to say something but snapped it shut instead. He turned away from me and gripped the counter. He took deep breaths before turning back.

“All right,” he said. “I’ll think about it. I’ll make some overtures and see what they say.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I know I can’t ask for more than that.”

“But you better understand me. If the Leones try to fuck me, or they don’t want to sit down and have a civilized conversation, I’m not backing off. I’m not going to let those fucks push me around and try to kill my daughter without some payback.”

I nodded and sipped my coffee. “Okay,” I said. “That’s fair.”

He seemed to relax a little. “There’s a spare room upstairs,” he said. “I’ll go make it up. You can sleep more, if you want. You look tired. Did you ditch out on him before he woke up?”

“No,” I said. “He went for breakfast or coffee or something.”

“Smart. Take your opportunity when it presents itself.” He turned and walked to the kitchen door. “Take your time eating. Your room’s first on the right.” He disappeared into the living room then I heard him head up the steps.

I slumped forward, my heart racing.

Coming here was a stupid mistake. But I felt like I had nowhere else to go. My father was still a bastard, a liar, and a monster, and nothing was going to change that, not even his grandchild. I knew it and there was nothing I could do.

But I was here. At least I could try and get him to do this deal and end this nightmare. Then once the dust settled, I could leave the city for good and find a new place to hide out from him. Somewhere I can raise my baby away from this violence and this insanity.

One day at a time. Right now, I need to survive this. Then I can worry about my child’s future.22TannerThe window shattered in the still, dark night. Glass tumbled into the dark kitchen and scattered across the hard wood floor. I reached in and unlocked the top bolt and the knob then pushed the back door open.

It was quiet and still. I stood there, Glock in my hand, waiting and listening. I heard nothing, no footsteps, no creaks. I stepped over the glass, careful not to make any more noise and dropped the wadded-up old t-shirt on the kitchen table. I’d used it to muffle the noise of the breaking glass and to keep the shards from cutting my hand.

I stepped through the kitchen and into a nice, modern living room. The couch was low and comfortable. Baby stuff was piled in one corner. The place wasn’t at all what I pictured. A Pack and Play was shoved against the far wall. Toy blocks were scattered on the expensive-looking carpet. The television was mounted above a fireplace and pictures of a cute little family lined the mantel beneath it.

I picked a picture up. Dante grinned out at me with his wife and his baby. I made a face and put it back.

Then heard the creak.

I moved to the stairs, gun up and ready. Dante stared at me in the dark, his own gun pointed at my face. He stood halfway down the stairs in a pair of boxer briefs and a tight white t-shirt.

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