I look back at Dave. His face hardens.
“Sierra.”
“No,” I say, louder now. “He was there. In my building. In my stairwell.”
Dave’s eyes flash. “Fine. He was there to get you out safely.”
“It was to get me,” I correct, and I can hear my own heartbeat, loud and wrong. “You asked me three times if I was at the apartment. You were trying to confirm where I was.”
Dave steps toward me. “I didn’t want to scare you.”
My laugh breaks out of me, sharp and cracked. “This is you not scaring me?”
His voice drops. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
My throat burns. “Then why am I here? Why are there armed guards? Why is he here?” I jerk my chin at the man, and my whole body flinches when he shifts his weight, like he’s ready.
“You lied to me about being deployed.”
“You are being difficult,” he snaps, then reins it back in fast, like he forgot who he was talking to. He drags in a breath. “Sierra. Kiddo. Listen.”
Don’t call me that.
The thought screams inside me, but my voice comes out small.
“Did you kill my dad?” I ask.
The kitchen goes too quiet.
Even the man by the doorway stops moving.
Dave’s face tightens like the question hits something raw.
“No,” he says, and for the first time since I saw him outside the boutique, he looks scared. Not for me. For himself. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean for it to happen like that.”
My stomach heaves.
“That’s not an answer,” I whisper.
Dave swallows hard. “When I found out what he had, I told him to forget about it. He wouldn’t.”
“Because he’s not a coward and a traitor,” I say, and my voice shakes with fury.
Dave flinches like I slapped him.
He looks away, then back. “They would’ve killed me.”
My hands curl into fists. “Who?”
“The Red Cobras,” he says, like the name tastes bitter. “They own me.”
I stare at him. “How?”
His shoulders sag a fraction, like the confession is heavy and he’s tired of carrying it.
“When my wife died,” he says quietly. “I got stupid. I got angry. I started gambling. Thought I could win back control of my life. Thought I could outplay the bad luck.”
My throat tightens.
