30. If he wanted to, he would
Chapter 30
If he wanted to, he would
LETTIE
N o, no, no.
“I think the fuck not,” I seethe over Kri’s shoulder, pointing my finger at Boss in a warning.
If he does this, we are not related anymore.
Unforgivable.
Standing, he approaches us cautiously. “Lettie, easy. Let’s think about this.”
“Kri, please let me go,” I inject faux calmness into my demeanor.
Keeping me restrained by my upper arms, she sharpens her tone. “Promise you won’t freak out again?”
“Freak out?” I squeak. “I didn’t freak out.”
Delulu Bell is here, hanging out with my squirrel, the unicorn, and the monkeys from denial. They’re all getting drunk with the llama.
“You tried grabbing the headset off Klein’s ears to call off the mission. Textbook definition of freaking out,” Kri insists. “If you do that shit again, I’ll carry you out of here.”
“Fine. I freaked a little. Totally justified to my mind. How dare you consider doing anything with that man other than shooting him on sight?”
No one gives me an answer, not that I expect one. After all, I’m no one here. Not in the grand scheme of things. They don’t owe me an explanation. I’m a guest in the lair.
After a deep inhale, I let my upper body go limp. “I’m calm. I promise. Sorry.”
Mia and Klein continue navigating through multiple screens, typing and clicking away with their backs to me. They put the team in a holding pattern or something like that. I could barely hear their words after Boss decreed there were no changes to the plan despite the informant’s identity. I completely lost it when he told them to proceed with a friendly exchange with the tango .
Can you believe this bullshit? Friendly .
Perhaps a friendly knife to the eye socket. Or a cordial hug around the neck until he stops breathing. Either of those exchanges would suit me fine and dandy.
Once Kri releases me, Boss replaces her, positioning himself between the console and me.
“I’m over my rage. I just needed to be dramatic about it first. And I apologize for pitching a duck fit.”
For the record, I’m only apologizing so he’ll let me stay. I’m not all that sorry. The guilt over this incident won’t likely arrive until later.
“If you were anyone else and this was any other situation, you’d be on your way to the parking lot by now. I understand why you’re upset, Lettie. I do. Hell, I’m furious too. It’s justified. So I’m giving you one more chance. But so help me, if you do anything else to compromise the safety of my team, I’ll put you out. Got me?”
Words don’t come. No agreement waiting on my tongue. No snarks or even placating apologies itching to be set free.
Nothing.
I can barely see him through the red-tinged fury blinding me.
Likely compounded by a haze of regret over reducing their ability to keep the team safe. That part was foolish of me. I can admit it.
Impulsive, naturally. Lettie at her finest.
Despite my vision deficit, I make out a shift in his features as he morphs from hard-ass boss to compassionate leader. “I know he personally hurt you badly. That means he also hurt us. We aren’t giving him a free pass.”
With my pulse racing, I encourage him to continue. “But?”
“We need to see what he has for us. If he wants to take his father and the bratva down, we need to hear him out.”
“Dad, you cannot trust him. He’s a snake in the grass. The devil in a dress shirt. He is not your ally.”
I’m unsure why I suddenly called him Dad. Probably because no other name feels right at this moment. If I’m going to convince him to stop this madness, I need to remind him of who he is.
Whether he truly wants to be my dad or not, I need him to be the father he never could be.
He has the chance now, though.
“Choose me,” I whisper, my voice nearly lost to the air surrounding it.
That’s what I’m asking of him. For him to pick me over his blind hatred of Nikolai Lenkov. Over his need to avenge the shot taken at him and Madeline. To opt to stop the man who hurt me far worse than a bullet grazing an arm.
My scars run deeper. They’ll never disappear.
I need him to choose me because I’m his daughter.
And as my vision clears, the look in his eyes shows me his decision before he says the words.
Sadly, he isn’t choosing to be my father.
His face falls, a crumpled look of confusion barely visible through the facial hair.“Lettie, there’s nothing to choose. If he is there, it’s because he has the intel to take down one of the rings.”He points at the board, where the columns of information sit, each of them representing a whole host of crimes. “Every time a ring falls, it brings us closer to ending Nikolai and everything he stands for.”
I glance around the room, concerned eyes looking at me with some form of disgust or pity. They want to eliminate the entire monster on the wall. Perhaps I’m wrong for vehemently wanting to see one column destroyed more than the others.
Yeah . I’m selfish to merely consider sacrificing the other crimes just to eliminate one man. That disgusting excuse for a human sitting there, waiting for Redleg to offer him a get-out-of-jail-free card.
Stupid, selfish Lettie.
Then again... is it selfish? Or is that my raising doing the talking for me?
You know what. Fuck that. I am not being selfish.
He is.
His priorities are fucked to high heaven.
Big Al has never been my father, and it’s stupid for me to expect him to be now. He’s barely spoken to me since I blew in here like a CAT-5 hurricane over a month ago.
If he wanted to, he would.
Busy or not. Mafia battle or not.
If he wanted to know me, he would be well on his way by now.
Tomer wanted to earn me back and love me, even with all this shit going on. And he does it.
Every damn minute of every damn day.
“Never mind.” I lower my eyes and take a step backward. Then another. “Do what you’re gonna do. What I want or believe don’t matter none, anyhow. What do I know? I’m just a hillbilly who was never so much as a glint in your eye.”
Without another word, I turn on my heeland take my seat beside Sammy. Once I lower onto the chair, I cross my hands and rest them in my lap. Shoulders rolled back and chin raised, I make it clear I’m done fighting a useless battle.
There’s an aching slowness to my movements as my gaze trails from the carpet to the main console monitor, looking pointedly past my... past Boss.
Struck mute, he stands there long enough for my guilt to fester.
A lifetime of forced manners shakes my resolve.
Maybe I shouldn’t be here. I’m an unnecessary distraction to their oh-so-important mission.
If it weren’t for the man wearing body cam number four on the wall of screens, there’d be no reason for me to watch. Yet I love him with every ounce of my being, so here I shall sit until I know he’s on his way home to me. Safely.
“Lettie, I-I-I don’t understand what’s happening,” Alan stammers, uncharacteristically shaken. “What do you expect me to do?”
“Resume your mission. After all, I’m only collateral damage to the war between Redleg and Lenkov.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I wouldn’t have been taken if he didn’t have this fucking war to begin with. But I’m choosing the high road. Just because I’m hurt doesn’t mean I need to hurt someone else.
I won’t be a spoke in the cycle of pain.
He takes two steps toward me, his eyes and posture warming. As he opens his mouth to say something I don’t much care to hear, he’s cut off.
“Boss, we have a problem,” Mia interjects.
We avert our eyes to the screens, and a murmur of curses befalls the group.
Tomer’s walking right up to the car, gun cocked and extended in front of him.
Good.
That’s love. That’s family.