By the time I shuffle out, Tommy’s in the kitchen starting coffee. I pull open the door just in time for my father to stumble in like a tornado.
He’s a wreck. Hair sticking up, shirt half-tucked, jacket torn. I’ve never seen my dad look anything less than wholly put together in my life, but right now he’s unraveling in front of me.
I peek my head out the door and look down the hall, half expecting a horde of raging Vikings to be following him. Instead, it’s just Tommy’s security team, silent and watchful.
The door shuts with a click, and I lean my back against it, watching my father pace like a caged animal in front of the coffee table. I can’t help but smile remembering what Tommy did to me on that table last night.
Lorenzo rakes both hands through his hair, making it stand on end. “We have to talk.”
“I guess so,” I say, sitting in one of the leather chairs.
He shakes his head. “No,Ihave to talk.”
“Okay.” My brow furrows as he wobbles a bit, hitting his shin on the stone end table and cursing. “Are you drunk?”
“Oh yes,” he says, holding up a finger. “But reserve judgment until I’ve said what I have to say.”
“Dad, it’s two in the afternoon.”
He shakes the one finger at me. “Reserve. Judgment.”
I’m suddenly alarmed. “Is Mom okay?”
Bewildered, he shakes his head like a dog, like he’s trying to clear his brain. “Your mother is…well, she’s fine physically if that’s what you’re asking.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And emotionally?”
His face twists into a sneer. “Ice fucking cold.”
“What did you do?” I sigh, taking the coffee that Tommy brings me, smiling at him. My man. My babies’ daddy. He leans against my chair, his eyes deep and dark as he glares at Lorenzo over his phone, one hand protectively on my shoulder.
“Nothing, nothing, for once, I did fucking NOTHING.” His voice slides to a high pitch as he sits heavily on the couch. “That might be the problem. I did nothing for too fucking long and let the women in my life just—But not today. Today, I amdoingsomething. It is probably the wrong thing. But I’m doing it, anyway.”
My father spent a good part of my childhood with some level of alcohol in his system, but I’ve never seen him so wasted. I’m genuinely worried, and I glance up at Tommy, but he’s not paying attention.
“Fuck,” Tommy murmurs, scowling at his phone, fury on his face.
“What?”
“It’s Vin.” He holds the phone out to me, so I can see it. I guess this is his new thing: no more secrets.
I’ve spent the last two days
interrogating some of the
guys we pulled off the
island since you’re up
G’s pussy.
Also found the nurse: she
gave up everything.
Confirmed: just one rapist.
Confirmed: Identity of the
