I gasp and then take half a step back. “Dad?”
His face lights up, and he opens his arms. “Nevaeh honey! There you are! It’s about time you showed up.”
TWO
Nevaeh
“But I thought Nero had you,”I say for the fifth time in minutes. Dad’s arms encircle me, his minty cologne tickling my nose. The same smell I identified as safety when I was a child. But as he embraces me and strokes a hand along my hair, I’m reminded of the scent that signifies safety to me as awoman.
The warm and earthy musk that belongs to Caelian.
I find myself dizzy closing my eyes and trying to remember the smell. I lose track of time and place, willing myself to return to the weeks we’d had together. Mornings where I’d open my eyes and he’d be asleep at my side and his large hands would pull me closer. We’d waste so much time just lying in each other’s arms, soaking up the morning light.
My heart aches thinking about how it’s over. I’ll probably never see him again.
If I ever do, he’ll hate me.
“Honey, are you alright?” Dad asks, patting me on the back.
I flinch coming back to the present, then give a stiff nod. Anyone who’s a decent read on people could tell it’s insincere,my expression vacant and distracted. But Mom and Dad are too preoccupied with other things to notice.
Ignazio’s harping on about the next phase in our plan.
I collapse in one of the office chairs and remind myself to listen. It’s not as if they’ll be upfront with me otherwise…
“We should go for the lockbox,” he says. “Tonight. We have the code.”
Mom shakes her head and leans closer to Dad like he’s a crutch. “We were just reunited five minutes ago. Do you know how long we’ve been waiting for this moment?”
“Have all the hunky-dory family moments you want—afterwe retrieve what’s in the lockbox. We do it tonight. Before Nero’s even up to speed on what’s going on.”
“He’s already looking for me,” Dad says.
“You know this how?”
“You might be expendable, Ignazio, but I’m not,” Dad answers with a dismissive air. He curls an arm around Mom and uses the other to gesture at me. “My wife and daughter need rest. They’ve been on the road for hours.”
Ignazio scowls and turns his back on us. He wanders over to the window. As he passes me by, I catch bits and pieces of his irritated mumbles. Things like “fools” and “they’ll come to regret it.”
Redirecting my attention across the office space, I spend a second observing Mom and Dad. They’ve fallen into their own hushed exchange, glancing at Ignazio by the window and then over at me. Mom’s eyes meet mine by accident, and my insides twist.
I breathe out slowly and will myself to speak up. A concept so foreign to me given my upbringing.
“What happens after we use the code for the lockbox? What’s inside that you want so badly?”
Dad and Mom hesitate before answering. They seem to come to an unspoken agreement about who will do the painstaking task of humoring me. Dad takes up the task.
“Nevaeh, you know how long we’ve fought to be together.”
“But we’re together now. How does the lockbox matter?”
Dad starts to answer, but Mom cuts in with a much harsher tone. “Do you like being together, Nevaeh?”
“Of course, but?—”
“Do you want to stay together?”
“Yes, but I’m just ask?—”
