Liam snorts like there’s anything funny about the way dozens of cars choke the road once we get close enough to the cemetery. “Look how loved he was.” He snickers. “Isn’t this sweet?”
We both know it isn’t love. He’s only trying to get a rise out of me while he pats himself on the back for being so damn clever. I cannot wait to watch his whole plan fall apart. There must be something he missed. There’s got to be.
The driver has to shout through his window. “I’ve got the daughter here!” Like magic, the sea of cars parts for us. People standing around try to peek inside through the tinted windows. It disgusts me. They’re acting like I’m some sideshow exhibit. “Look at all these people who cared so much.” Liam can’t contain his glee—he might as well rub his hands together like the supervillain he thinks he is. “A bunch of fucking hypocrites, all of them.”
That much we agree on. Not that I would ever admit it. He’s already taken enough from me. He doesn’t need to know what’s going on in my head, too.
We pull up to the spot where hundreds of floral arrangements sit around the graveside. People dressed in black walk to the spot, while Liam murmurs to the two men sitting in the front of the SUV to keep things in line. I wonder why he does that right up to the point where I step out of the car.
The tension in the air is like a physical thing, threatening to knock me down as soon as my feet touch the ground. No fewer than a dozen pairs of eyes stare straight through me. There’s no hint of the sympathy I expected to find. There’s only what looks like contempt. Bitterness. It didn’t hit me until now, but there could be enemies here instead of admirers and associates.
All of a sudden, my feet are lead, glued to the ground.
“Something’s wrong here,” I whisper to Liam when he takes my arm. I look up at him, hoping to get through, but all he does is give me a kiss against my forehead that makes me shudder in disgust.
“Come on. You can do this.” Laughter lights up his eyes, but he pretends to be serious and solemn as he leads me to the grave. As we walk, my gaze sweeps over the crowd. Something bad is going to happen. I feel it in my bones. But when I try to pull away from Liam, he only holds on tighter. It’s almost like he’s leading me to my grave instead of Dad’s.
I don’t know the man holding the service. I’ve never seen him before, and it’s not like we ever went to church except when Dad would make an appearance at an event like this. It was all for show. Considering he has nothing but good things to say about my father, I’m going to bet he never knew him. None of these people ever really knew him. I can’t stand the hypocrisy, but I don’t have a choice. I have to pretend to care—at one point, Liam even hands me his handkerchief. The smug fucker.
Somebody comes around, handing out red roses, one for each of us standing closest to the grave. “Go ahead,” Liam murmurs. “I’m here with you, honey.” I have to bite my tongue so hard it hurts, but somehow, I make it to the graveside where a pearl-white casket gleams even under a gray sky. Somehow, that’s the most ridiculous part of all. That he would be laid to rest in something so pure-looking.
“Goodbye,” I whisper, then toss the rose on top of the casket as it’s lowered.
The bloom has barely touched the lid when a shot rings out.
I barely know what’s happened before I’m falling. More shots fill the air as I hit the unforgiving wooden platform set up around the outside of the grave. My knees strike first, then my head hits something before a heavy weight lands on top of me.
Not something. Someone. Liam.
Pain zips through me from head to toe while he shouts. “Get her out of here!” The sound of his voice gets mixed-up with all the others screaming, shouting, weeping.
His guards pull me to my feet—my knees are screaming almost as loud as the people running all around, looking for cover. “Wait,” I murmur, dazed, but they don’t listen. My feet barely touch the ground in fact, as they drag me back to the SUV and bundle me inside with Liam climbing in after me.
“What happened?” Somewhere in the back of my head, I can’t believe I would even ask that question. I know what happened.
Liam is too busy shouting orders to answer. “Penthouse, now!” The engine roars. The tires squeal. Suddenly, the car leaps forward as the driver cuts through the crowd of people rushing around in confusion. I think I’m going to throw up.
“I need you at the penthouse.” Liam barks into his phone while we careen down a winding driveway placed between rows of headstones. “Immediately. We should be there in five minutes. No, I don’t think it’s critical,” he adds, looking me up and down.
When he ends the call, he takes me by the arms, then runs his hands over me. “Were you injured?” he asks. If I didn’t know better, I would think there’s a note of desperation in his voice.
“My head,” I mutter. “I think it hit that platform. And my knees.” It’s one of those things where I don’t even want to lookdown at them, since they hurt so much, throbbing with every heartbeat. “They hurt like hell.”
“You’ll live.” His comment gives me strength to look down at my torn-up skin. Blood drips down my shins, and already both knees are turning purple. That’s the worst of it, though.
“I think I’m—” I look over at him, where his suit jacket has spread open, and a gasp lodges in my throat. Red. So much red. “You were shot!” It’s instinct, I guess, or reflex. Whatever it’s called, it makes me reach for him without thinking.
He stops me before I can touch him. “I’m fine.”
“Where was it? In the back?” I can’t believe he’s sitting here like it’s no big deal. Now I see the blood soaked through his clothes and smeared on the leather seat.
“Dr. Baker will take care of it. I’m fine.” When he grits his teeth, it tells a different story. I guess I shouldn’t really care, or maybe I should be glad after everything he did. He’s getting what’s coming to him. But something about the whole thing sticks in my head and won’t leave me alone through the rest of the ride back to his building.
He refuses help getting out of the SUV, which leaves his men to look around suspiciously while we get in the elevator. I feel like I’m moving through Jell-O. Like I’m not even in my body. I could’ve been shot today. I could be lying there dead next to my father’s casket. Is that what somebody wanted?
Would they have hit me if Liam hadn’t thrown himself over me? Why would anybody want to kill me?
By the time we reach the penthouse, I realize that’s a stupid question. I’m still Donovan’s daughter. He might be dead, but bad blood can last forever.
