Chapter 52
“Are you ready?” Taryn’s voice was gentle.
Ready? Portia was about to say goodbye to her father, probably forever. How was she supposed to be ready for that?
“I am,” Dizzie said. “Portia?”
Portia blinked and looked at the two women with her. Both of them were studying her like she was fragile. Like she was going to break. Portia Tremaine didn’t break. Well, except for that once.
She blew out a long breath. “I’m ready.”
Taryn led them down the poorly lit hallway. “I never knew you had cells down here,” Dizzie said. She’d been keeping up a commentary from the moment Taryn had led them into the back halls of Razor Jack’s. Portia could have lived without knowing some of Taryn’s secrets, but she couldn’t avoid this meeting. Dizzie, on the other hand, found everything interesting. Yet another difference between them.
Finally, Taryn stopped in front of the farthest door. “We’ve kept him as comfortable as possible. Except for letting him go,” she said with a laugh. “I’ve never been offered such riches before.”
Portia tilted her head and looked at the other woman. “Why didn’t you take his offer?”
“Are you fucking kidding me, Portia?” Taryn asked.
“What? I was just curious.” Why was the other woman so offended?
“Why didn’t you take the money, Taryn?” Taryn mimicked Portia in a high, obnoxious voice.
Dizzie snickered and looked away.
“Why didn’t I? Let me count all the ways. Because your father is a fucking piece of shit who deserves to pay for his crimes.” She ticked off a finger. “Because I’m not a piece of shit.” She ticked another finger. “Oh yeah, and because I thought we were friends, Portia.” Taryn glared at her.
“Oh,” Portia said, her mind reeling.
“‘Oh?’ That’s all you’ve got?” Taryn threw up her hands in disgust.
“I’m sorry,” Portia said. “I’m... not very good with friends. Killian and Tommy were my only ones. But I’m trying to get better.”
Dizzie sniffled.
Taryn exhaled in exasperation. “Sure, play the poor little lonely rich girl card, why don’t you.” She poked Portia in the chest with her cyberarm. Hard. “Don’t question our friendship again.”
Portia rubbed her throbbing sternum. “Got it,” she said.
Dizzie clasped her hands together. “Aw, our little Portia is growing up.”
Portia turned to her and glared. “I swear, life as an only child was so much better.”
“Naw. I’m growing on you. Admit it.”
“Like fungus,” Portia responded.
“I’ll take it,” Dizzie said with a laugh.
Taryn rolled her eyes. “If you two are done acting like children?” When they both nodded, she continued. “He’s been fed. Bathed. He did not like that,” she added as an aside. “We haven’t told him anything. Now, are you ready?”
“Ready,” Portia and Dizzie said in unison.
Taryn unlocked the door, then stepped back. She kept a watchful eye out, while Portia gripped the door handle and opened it.
What she saw took her by surprise.
“It’s nicer than the holding cells in the Tremaine basement,” Dizzie whispered over her shoulder.
It was. There was a bed, a chair, a small table, and even a wall-mounted tablet. A half-eaten lunch sat on the table. Pretty fancy for a cell, but her father surely hated it. Only the best was good enough for Phillip Tremaine.
“Well, well, look who finally decided to show up,” he said, when she stepped into the room. His lips curled up in distaste when Dizzie followed her in. “What’s she doing here?”
“We’re here to say goodbye.” The words were difficult but Portia forced them out.
“Goodbye? Have you finally come to your senses and decided to leave the company to me? Are you going to Sweden to be the Solveig lackey’s whore?”
This was just like her childhood when she hadn’t done what he wanted. He really had been a crappy father. Dizzie must have sensed her distress because she took Portia’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “No, Father. I’m not going anywhere. You are.”
“Is this some kind of joke?” he demanded.
“No,” Dizzie said. “No joke. It’s time you paid for your crimes.”
“I wasn’t talking to you, little girl. You’re not part of this family.”
Dizzie’s sucked-in breath held a wealth of pain. Portia squeezed her hand.
“You’re going to Sweden. The Solveigs will finally have the chance to get justice for what you did to their daughter and their granddaughter.”
He threw back his head and howled in laughter. “That’s a good one, Portia. You almost had me.”
When she didn’t respond, he stopped laughing. Watching his face, she saw the exact moment he realized she was serious. That was when the berating and begging started in earnest.
She felt physically ill. She couldn’t do this, couldn’t stand here and take this abuse. This wasn’t what she wanted her last memory of her father to be. But then, after her mom died, he’d never been the father she needed.
“Goodbye, Father,” she whispered. Releasing Dizzie’s hand, Portia stepped backward until she stood in the threshold.
Fists clenched at her sides, she watched Dizzie study their father.
“Goodbye,” Dizzie said simply. Then she turned her back on him and walked out of the room.
Taryn locked it behind them.
Focusing on logistics was the only way she would get through this without crying. “How will you get him on the plane?” Portia asked. The flight was scheduled to leave in the evening, so he would be arriving in Sweden around the time they had their meeting with Mr. and Mrs. Solveig.
“We’ll drug him,” Taryn said matter-of-factly.
Portia gaped at her. “What?”
“We’ll give him a sedative. Enough to knock him out for the flight.”
“Perfect,” Dizzie said.
Portia smiled weakly. “Perfect,” she echoed.
“I’m starving. Anyone want to get lunch?” Dizzie followed Taryn up the stairs.
Portia lingered for a moment, staring at the closed door. Then she turned and followed her friends up the stairs.