Branded (Savage Men 4)

As I peer through the window of the car, I realize she took Matteo’s phone. I clearly remember him telling me he had a tracker installed in case it got stolen.

I smirk.

I guess luck’s on my side now. Time to find my little cupcake.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Dixie

With a pounding heart, I push the doorbell and wait.

“Who is it? If you’re here to sell me shit, I’m not interested!”

When he opens the door, I say, “Hi, Dad!” with the biggest smile I can muster.

His face only turns more sour once he realizes it’s me. “Dixie? What are you doing here?”

“Ah …” I make a face. I haven’t exactly thought about how I’m gonna tell him the news yet about the failed attack on the hotel. And fuck, I don’t even wanna mention Brandon at this point. I know my dad is pissed. I can see the fire burning in his eyes.

“Aren’t you supposed to blow up that goddamn hotel?” he asks, rubbing his scruffy, unkempt beard.

“I was …”

“But you failed.”

Rain pours down on my face. Every drop feels hard but not as hard as his words.

“I did my best,” I say, swallowing away the lump in my throat. “I’m not done yet.”

“You’d better not be,” he says, grabbing his coat. “You’re a disgrace.”

I cringe when I hear those words. I honestly tried. I wanted it to succeed, but then damn Brandon had to go and butt in. Plus, I didn’t use enough explosives to blow up the whole building. I should’ve brought more.

“Jesus Christ, Dixie. Why the fuck did I put you in all those martial arts classes? Did you even learn anything?”

“Yes!” I say, licking my lips. “I used all the techniques on a security guard at the hotel.”

“And still you failed,” he says, spitting in the spittoon standing in the hallway.

His words cut me like a knife. I wish they didn’t, and I try not to let him get to me, but he’s my dad. “I’m gonna try better,” I say.

“Good. I don’t wanna see you back here until that whole goddamn hotel is buried in the ground,” he snarls, putting on his coat. “That son of a bitch deserves to die.”

“I know. I wanted him to. I just … miscalculated on the amount. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” he says, pushing his index finger against my chest so hard I’m forced to take a step back. “That shit is all over the news. Now everyone’s looking for us.”

“No one knows it was me!” I say as he puts on his hat too.

“I fucking hope you didn’t leave any evidence, Dixie,” he hisses. “When I told you to do this job, I expected you to do it without gettin’ noticed. Clean and crisp.”

“I know, Dad,” I say. “I’m gonna do better, I promise.”

I wish I could tell him what happened at the hotel. That I fought as hard as I could, that I got taken away, that I met the one man he’d shoot on sight. Okay, second man he’d shoot on sight.

But he’s never been interested in what I have to say, and today’s not gonna be any different.

His tongue runs along his dry, cracked lips. “I don’t care what you do as long as you get the fucking job done. Josiah ruined our business. Our family. Or whatever’s left of it,” he grumbles, looking away. It’s that same expression whenever he thinks of my brothers. He misses them so much. I don’t think I can ever fill that void.

“I know, Dad. I hate him too,” I say, licking my lips to try to stay strong, but I’m on the verge of tears.

He marches past me, slogging through the mud as if he’s got something to do. “Dad?”

“I don’t care what you do, just get it done. Understand?” he says.

I nod. “I’ll need to use the shed. And some tools.”

He waves it off like it’s no biggie, but he just doesn’t care. “I’m off to town. You’d better be gone when I get back,” he growls, and he slams his door and drives off, leaving me to fend for myself. Just as he always does.

Fuck. Sometimes I really wish he wasn’t my dad. But he’s all I have left.

On my way to the shed, I stop by the new farmhouse and gaze inside. My dad’s stash is gone, but he’s already started growing new ones. I can’t believe how fast he’s changed his mind. One minute, he swears he’s done right after Josiah stole the entire batch, and then the next, he wants to continue where he left off. It’s as if he just doesn’t learn. Like he wants to punish himself.

But it’s cruel and not to mention dangerous. If the cops stop by and check out the farmhouse, we’re screwed.

I wish he’d just quit. But I guess that’s my dad. He doesn’t ever give up. Not even when faced with the impossible.