62. Bay
SIXTY-TWO
bay
“Ah, Haven. Thank you for showing up on such short notice.”
It takes everything in me to be here right now.
I received a text message from Emilio this morning asking me to visit his warehouse and that was all.
It’s urgent.
Two words that summoned me here out of curiosity and anxiety.
“Ozzy, son.” Emilio gestures to a white door. “I appreciate you bringing her by.”
I start for the door before my sperm donor opens it and permits me access inside.
My adrenaline is spiked, everything in me demands I leave because this isn’t good for my mental health, and I’m dizzy.
I haven’t felt well all morning since his message, and I just want to get this over with.
“I’m glad you’re both getting along.” I really want him to shut the fuck up now. “How is married life?”
Emilio takes the black leather chair behind a very large desk that’s too big for the small space, but that’s neither here nor there. Several brown boxes line up against the white walls; no pictures are hung, and the air is stale and thick.
I hear Ozzy shut the door with a soft click ,and I force a sentence out to appease the moron in front of me so we can move on.
“Things are good.”
He fake-smiles at me. “Good. This is my foreman’s place, I hope you don’t mind.”
Like I give a serious shit.
“Not at all,” I profess evenly, taking a seat and biding my time while waiting for what Emilio really wants to tell me. Why the sudden meeting that has made my stomach ball up for hours now.
My husband doesn’t take the spot next to me, instead having my back and the least vulnerable spot in the small space.
And I can’t help but feel safe against my biggest adversary, who just happens to be my sperm donor.
“I called you here today to speak about something serious.” Restlessness falls over me. Taunting the fact that he’s on to everything I have planned thus far. “I saw the video, Haven.”
Video.
The only video that would mean anything in this scenario. The bane of my existence, and how in the hell is everyone finding out about this?
And it wasn’t even a sex tape that could possibly go viral, for fuck’s sake.
It’s at the tip of my tongue to act ignorant, but what’s the point? So I say nothing. Ozzy knows—which is something we haven’t talked about—but my brain doesn’t click, connecting it to him for some reason.
He wouldn’t.
Not with the way things are flowing between the two of us. The one-worded answers he’s given me.
Short, simple, to the point.
Nonetheless, that still leaves me with how?
“There’s been a lot of things I’ve seen since you and I have been reacquainted.” Emilo continues. “And I’m concerned.”
“With?”
“Torin.” My whole body numbs at the mention of his name, because I instantly don’t like the way it sounds on his lips. The way it tumbles, as if he’s all business, and Torin is a liability that needs to be handled.
“You’re going to be rising up,” Emilio says simply. “And I don’t trust what he’s going to do or what he’s planning. Torin has always led with his emotions. He’s already done things…that I’m not proud of…” He doesn’t finish his inner monologue, and I can’t stop the immediate bounce in my leg, hinting at how anxious I am.
“What are you saying?” I press, focusing and demanding my body remain still and composed.
This isn’t a game, and I don’t trust what Emilio has in mind.
He flicks his gaze quickly to Ozzy before they fall right back to me with more conviction and seriousness to it. “Torin will always be my son. However, you’re my blood. And you have to come first over all else.”
That small change of his attention was a trick. He wants me to think Ozzy said something. A not-so-innocent display of concern when, really, Emilio doesn’t want me to have support. He wants me vulnerable and reliant on him.
He wants Torin out, which would leave me with one less.
“And what does that look like in your head?” I challenge, crossing my arms and legs to keep them under control.
Emilio’s blue eyes remain locked on mine—no empathy, no second-guessing, no anything but his plan.
“He has to die.”
My heart slows, though I had an inkling all along. The way this man just expressed his alleged feelings for his son, confirms Emilio has loyalty to his family.
“Are you fucking crazy ?” I leer between clenched teeth, and my expression says it all. I don’t bother hiding it.
He doesn’t either.
Emilio is dead serious.
Unfazed as all hell that he just said his child—the one he allegedly half-ass raised—has to leave this Earth over shit he doesn’t approve of.
Thank fuck I never grew up around him, or I never would have made it past sixteen.
“I’m looking for your blessing, Haven.”
I rise from my chair because Emilio can consider this conversation over. “You’re not gonna get it.”
“I understand.” He tips his head downward, and I’m hoping he gives up this insane idea of fixing things when he, of course, doesn’t. We’re two different beings, our blood bond having nothing to do with the way our heads work. “But I’ll do it anyway.”
Fuck.
“This was a bad idea,” I claim, towering over him and his desk. “You shouldn’t have told me, Dad .”
“I’m aware of your relationship with him, but?—”
“That has nothing to do with it and everything to do with the boys. I won’t have them lose a brother because you’re scared. I’m not.”
“You should be,” he clips back. “I’ve seen that boy go after someone for less.”
“And he’s never fucked with someone like me. However, I appreciate the insight. Apparently, your little band of boys known as The Void aren’t going to be the ones I want around me to ensure my safety.
He side-eyes me, probably lowkey insulted that his wannabe gang has yet to impress me. “You need to learn to take your feelings out of it.”
“My emotions are what keep me merciful.”
“And what will cause very ill-advised decisions.” We death-stare at each other. And I don’t know what Emilio still thinks of me, but I’m the damn champion of a stare down. “I know this isn’t easy, but any threat that lingers over your head, it’s best to exterminate now before it’s too late.”
“You’d know. It’s funny, because if I would’ve taken that advice, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. Like the time you sent me a picture of my sister at school and bullied me into a relationship with you. Or the bomb you placed on Levi Wallace’s ankle.”
“I’m your father?—”
“Then act like it,” I bark, shoving my fingernails into my palm. “Because Roger would never ask me such a thing, and I’m still on the fence with this fucked-up relationship.”
“Roger isn’t me,” Emilio snaps, showing his true annoyance with me—finally. I’ve been wanting to go toe-to-toe with this motherfucker since day one for him to finally fight back. “He left you vulnerable when you could’ve been taught to be powerful. You were meant for great things, but instead, he kept you from me and treated you like a street urchin who had to run her own drugs and?—”
“He showed me love and a normal life,” I interrupt calmly. I know that will grind the shit out of Emilio’s gears. “Not one where violence stewed and you were a target for everyone who knows what you did.”
“And what was that?”
I’m blowing this, I know that.
This wasn’t what I was supposed to be doing, but Emilio is fully aware I’m not on board with him. That I still have some fight in me and I’m not willing to bow down and run into his arms for a hug because I lost my dad.
He’s stupid as fuck.
And pathetic as hell.
“Let’s cut the shit,” I grind out, feeling slightly victorious that I haven’t flipped his damn desk on top of him. “You’re known as the rat. You’re the man who turned in Penn Northcott. My grandfather.” His blues widen ever-so-slightly because—bingo—Daddy Dearest didn’t think I was smart enough to have the people around me figure it out. “Do you really think I was that fucking stupid to not figure out why you kept harping on wanting a relationship with me?”
“That’s not the reason?—”
“You touch him, and I will have you killed . For real.” I inhale because he’s stressing me out. I need to wave this long-lost daughter card a little more wildly to get my point across because—frankly, and since the beginning of time—I don’t trust him. “You’re starting to look like a threat to me again.”
“Many have tried, Haven,” he rebuffs haughtily. “And everyone has failed. Even your precious Levi Wallace and all his friends.”
Desk.
Desk.
Desk.
I clutch my fingers tightly together and remember to just breathe. I don’t know how many men Emilio has outside this office if things turn bad. It’s only Ozzy and I, and I’m not looking for either one of us to catch a bullet today.
“Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?” I hedge evenly. “Maybe the fake persona you’ve been trying to put on to win me over?”
He gives me an exasperated look. “You’re just like your mother, Haven. Always quick to jump to conclusions.”
“Or maybe she was just smart.”
He nods. “She was. Then she was killed.”
By you.
However, despite all the stupid-ass decision-making I’ve done as of late, I know better than to blurt that fact out loud.
With my mind mentally fucked over with what Emilio is trying to do, and my green light on, I need to talk to Cairo.
Now.
I begin to turn toward the door, when Emilio decides for another shot at redemption.
“Have it your way,” Emilio grumbles then points a thick and menacing finger at me. “But that boy does one more fucking thing without listening and he’s through. I won’t ask next time. Do you understand me?”
Fuck you, you stupid piece of shit.
“And don’t ever question what I’m building with you or anything around me,” he goes on chiding. “I assembled this town before you were even out of diapers, Haven. I know what the hell I’m doing.”
And you expect me to believe you.
Emilio Wildes has gone and lost his fucking mind over here.
“Anything else?” I solicit flatly, taking a page out of Cairo’s book and speaking with a cool demeanor.
“An acknowledgment that you understand would be nice.”
“I heard what you said. I just don’t think you’ll follow through.”
“Consider it a warning,” he states, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands across his pressed white dress shirt. “And if you feel the need, which I know you will, tell Cairo that his Titan seat will be on the chopping block if he tries to fuck with me. He won’t like the news. However, out of all of them, he’s the most level-headed.”
“And this one?” I jerk my thumb over my shoulder at Ozzy. “I think he’s the most dangerous one of them all.”
Emilio doesn’t give away if he knows that or not. He just continues to stare openly at me. “You tell me.”
As if.
Not that I would know personally. However, I am privy to him taking out some of Emilio’s men the night with the ice cream truck.
“Have a good rest of your day, Mr. Wildes,” I prompt, almost feeling the petty need to lift my middle finger but take the mature route. “I’ll see you next Friday.”
I’m out the door within seconds, with Ozzy hot on my trail. I pluck my phone from my back pocket and then think better of it.
The thought of Emilio’s men watching my every move has me on edge, so I opt for plan B.
“Oz,” I mutter, and he’s at my right within the next breath. “I need to speak with Cairo ASAP.”
He doesn’t reply, and he doesn’t need to.
Cairo will be at my house by the end of the night.