I shouldered past him into the foyer, tracking mud across the pristine marble floors. “Thanks, Pops. Good to see you too.”
He stepped aside without argument, but I caught the way his nostrils flared slightly at the smell radiating off me. When he spoke again, his voice carried the tone he’d used when I was six and had come home with my first black eye. “Shower. Change. I’ll be waiting in my office.”
“I don’t have time,” I grumbled.
“Kreed,” he stated flatly. He looked older to me, as if these lastweeks had taken a toll, more grey peppering the hair near his temples. A sigh slipped out of him, heavy and tired, making his shoulders sag just slightly.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen my father look so worn down. Not since Mom died. But even then, the grief hadn’t lasted long before the rage took over and turned him back into the monster everyone feared and often hated. He didn’t make it easy to care about him.
“Make the time,” he said gruffly. “I’m saying this as your father. If you have any chance at helping Kaylor, you need to take care of yourself, which starts with you in the shower. Because you’re going to want the gift I have for you.”
My hands curled into fists at my sides, fresh blood welling up where the scabs split. “I don’t want anything from you.”
“You do if you want to find her.”
“So you’re not telling me to stop.” I assumed that was exactly why he wantedto talk. I’d gone over the conversation a dozen times in my head on the drive here, and all the things I would say when he told me my search had to end.
But this…was a surprise, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about my father “helping.” Did I want his help?
No, but if he had anything, anything at all that might be useful in getting Kaylor back, then I’d sell my damn soul to the devil himself to make it happen, which was what I feared this might be or as close to a deal with the devil as I could get.
“I’ll make us a drink while you get cleaned up.”
I gave him one last glance before I headed upstairs to my room. Ten minutes later, I emerged from the bathroom with damp hair dripping onto a fresh black T-shirt. The hot water had stripped away the surface grime, but it couldn’t touch the exhaustion in my bones. My reflection in the mirror looked like a stranger, hollow-eyed and sharp-angled.
Dad was waiting in his office, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, a crystal tumbler cradled in one hand, amber liquid catching the lamplight. Another glass sat untouched on the mahogany desk between us,ice already beginning to melt around the edges. Without a word, he slid a folded piece of paper across the polished surface. “Burn it once you’ve memorized the address. No one else sees it but you, and it doesn’t leave this room.”
I picked up the paper with fingers that trembled slightly. “What is this?”
“What you’ve been searching for.”
I didn’t unfold it. Not yet. “Why?” The question tore out of my throat. “Why the fuck would you get involved?”
Dad leaned back in his leather chair as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass, watching the patterns it made against the crystal. When he finally looked up, his eyes were unreadable. “For starters, you’re bringing every Viper in Elmwood to my doorstep. Cleaning up after you is exhausting.”
My mouth tightened. “So what’s the catch?”
A smirk ghosted across his lips, there and gone so quickly I might have imagined it. “No catch. You’re my son. You’ll kill yourself chasing this girl down. And I won’t let that happen. I wish you’d come to me sooner.”
I angled my head. “Don’t pretend like you care what happens to me. Or to her.”
He lifted the tumbler to his lips, taking a slow sip while his eyes never left mine. “Believe what you want, son. Just don’t waste what I handed you.”
I looked down at the paper in my hands and unfolded it, my eyes scanning over an address. “Is this what I think it is?”
“The auction. Do what you want with the information, just don’t get yourself killed. Or your brothers. Take Evan with you and anyone else in the Crew who you think would be of service.”
“What’s the catch?” There was always a catch. My father never did anything for free, not even for his sons, but it was gladly a price I’d pay for her.
“Bring her home first, then we’ll talk.”
I nodded. “I don’t know what this cost you, but thankyou.”
He passed me a drink. “Don’t thank me yet. You still have to do the work. And it won’t be fucking easy, Kreed. I know these people and the people they are protecting. Getting in will be your biggest challenge.”
I took the drink. “I’ve got it covered.”
“I bet you do.” He tossed back his two fingers of whiskey while I burned the address into my memory, every number, every letter, until it was branded as deeply as her scream had been.
