Run To Rome

The Almighty Greg Tomlin moved forward, unconcerned with the weapon in his son’s hand. He was a little heavier around the middle and a lot grayer on top since the last time Trent had seen him. Halli’s body relaxed from where she’d pressed close against his back. Trent dropped his hands to his sides in resignation.

Great. He was not in the mood, nor did he have the time to deal with this particular family dysfunction right now.

“I heard you needed some money,” his dad said.

Halli stepped up, hope lighting her eyes. “You have the ransom money?”

Trent recognized an annoying combination of relief and dread. Of all people, why’d Brad pick his Dad to bring the money? If he failed, his father would be right there—

“Ransom?” his father questioned, his light brown gaze bouncing from Halli to Trent.

“I didn’t give Brad details.”

“Obviously.”

Trent re-tucked the gun, wanting nothing more than to demand his father leave. Instead, he indicated they should all go below deck. He checked how they were doing on time as Halli and his father sat at the galley table. One more hour.

“What do you need ransom money for, Trent?”

“It’s for my brother,” Halli supplied.

When his father lifted an eyebrow toward her, Trent sighed in defeat and leaned back against the counter. “Dad, this is Halli. Halli, my dad, Greg Tomlin.”

“I know.”

Of course she knew. He gave his father a hard stare and folded his arms over his chest. “How’d you find us here and why didn’t you meet at the designated spot?”

“Despite appearances to the contrary, I’m not completely clueless when it comes to your life and your friends.” His father leaned his elbows on the table and linked his fingers together. “I put two and two together when Brad mentioned Villa Melzi.”

“Doesn’t explain why you didn’t meet us there.”

“I’ve had two shadows since arriving in the country last night.”

Trent stiffened. He reached for his gun as he moved to the opening leading to the deck. “So you came here instead?”

“Relax. I lost them this morning.” When Trent glanced over his shoulder, his father lifted his brows. “I do have some experience losing tails, you know. I just wanted to be extra cautious.”

Given his dad’s experience in war zones, and a fair number of his own criminal activity documentaries, Trent silently acknowledged they likely weren’t in any immediate danger. “Why’d Brad call you?” he asked.

“I called him when I saw the news and didn’t hear from my own son.”

Trent countered with a pointed dig of his own. “I specifically asked for someone I could count on.”

His father’s gaze dropped to the gun in Trent’s hand. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

“No.”

Halli frowned. “Trent, he could help.”

“Cut the concerned parent act.” Trent stalked over and slapped his palms on the table. It wobbled under his weight as he leaned forward. “You’ve never been around when it mattered. Why show up now?”

His father met his gaze, his brown eyes brightened by an unnatural sheen. “Because I wasn’t around when it mattered.”

A lump formed in Trent’s throat.

“I should’ve been there for Sean, not laid it on your shoulders,” his father said in a low, hoarse voice. “I’m the one who argued how dangerous it was. I knew what he could be facing. I should’ve been here with him.”

Halli’s hand slid over to cover Trent’s. He couldn’t risk a glance at her. As it was now, he had to turn around to blink away the stinging sensation in his eyes. What the hell was with the two of them ganging up on him now? He resumed his cynical stance against the counter.