I force words out over the painful lump in my throat. “Oh my god, Hera. I’m so sorry.”
Ares’s chair scrapes across the wooden floor as he stands, the movement so abrupt his chair tips over. He stares down at his mother with a strange look as his hands clench and unclench at his side. His lips curve into a snarl as he whips his head around to me. “Happy now, dollface?”
“I didn’t know. I didn’t…”
“Mean to be a fucking bitch sticking her nose in things that don’t concern you?” he hisses, cutting across me.
“Ares!” Hera clamps a hand over her chest. “It’s not Ashley’s fault.”
“Whatever.” He throws his napkin on the table. “I’m out.”
Hera gets up, racing after her son as he stomps out of the room.
Dad rubs between his brows as he pushes his half-eaten plate away. “I wish you had come to me with that question.”
“I wish you had volunteered that information so I would never have asked it in the first place!” I snap.
“It’s not something Hera likes to talk about.”
“What happened to her daughter? How did she die?”
“It was a car accident,” Dad says. “Her friend’s mom was driving when a semitruck smashed into them. Both little girls were killed immediately.”
I clamp a hand over my mouth because there aren’t adequate words to describe how I’m feeling. Silence trickles into the air for a few beats.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t ask Hera about it again. It was only two and half years ago. The wound is still fresh.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t want to upset her.” It’s no wonder Ares reacted as he did. It’s clearly upsetting for him too. I hate the jerk, but I would never be deliberately cruel and mention it to purposely hurt him. “While we’re on the subject of keeping things hidden, what the hell is going on with you?”
His spine stiffens. “What do you mean?”
“You look like shit, Dad, and you’re jumpy as fuck. What is going on? Does this have anything to do with you giving me that car?”
“Why would you even ask me that?” His brows knit together.
“Am I in some kind of danger, Dad?”
He leans across the table, his eyes widening a fraction. “Has someone said something to you?”
I don’t owe Lo’s trainer anything, but I believe he spoke the truth when he said he went out on a limb to warn me. Mentioning him would be a shitty way to reward him. Besides, we were told to never mention him or the warehouse. How would I explain it when I don’t even know his name or who he works for? Dad will just think I’m cracked, so I play dumb instead.
“Who would say something to me?” I crease my brow and tilt my head to one side. “What’s going on, Dad? What aren’t you saying?”
He blows air out of his mouth as he drags his hand back and forth across his disheveled hair. “Your mother and I need to talk to you about something.”
“What about?”
“I promised your mother I’d wait until she got here. She wants us to talk to you together, in person.”
Goose bumps sprout on my arms as an ominous sense of dread washes over me. “Mom’s coming here? She only visited a few weeks ago. Why didn’t you tell me then?”
He buries his head in his hands, and I’m starting to seriously freak out. “The situation was different then,” he admits, lifting his head and stabbing me with troubled eyes.
“What’s changed in a few weeks? You’re starting to scare me, Dad.”
He gets up and moves over beside me. Taking my hands in his, he brings them to his mouth and kisses the backs of my fingers. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” Releasing my hand, he brings one large palm up to my face and cups my cheek. “You’re my daughter.”
A fluttery feeling skates across my chest as tears pool in his eyes, and it’s an effort to hold my shit together.
