And if he knows this, what if he knows about my pregnancy too? I bite my lip and pray that the latter is not true.
“I…” I start, unable to finish the sentence. No words come out.
“Don’t tell me this is about your mother again?”
Get it together, Lauren.
Time to change my strategy. If he sees me starting to falter, it’s game over. I make a point of sliding my hand up my arm slowly to convince him that this is just another nonchalant conversation.
“Does it really matter?” I tilt my head, frowning. “You never really cared about how she died. Never pressed the police to get to the bottom of her murder. You just went on with life, like it was just another day.”
Father’s bottom lip twitches. A shadow crosses his face. Clearly, I have gotten to him. As satisfying as that might be to see, I know my attitude could get me into even more shit.
“Reckless.” He shakes his head. “Always sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong. You think you’re helping yourself, thinking that somehow you can commemorate your mother. You’re wrong. All you’re doing is setting yourself up to get hurt.”
I gulp. My heart beats out of my chest, my pulse drumming so loudly I’m convinced he can hear it. I just hope I’m wrong.
Setting myself up to get hurt?
What the hell does that even mean?
“I’m not her, and just because she’s gone, it doesn’t give you the right to control me,” is my comeback line. Perhaps if I give him my usual attitude, he won’t notice how shaken I am by this interaction.
Father’s eyes sharpen, looking at me like I shouldn’t be testing his patience. “Return the files and—”
“I don’t have them,” I interrupt. Lie of the century. The USB containing all of the information is at the bottom of my bag, back in my office. In hindsight, I should have left the drive at Nikolai’s place in case my father invites himself into my office and searches the place. I didn’t.
“I didn’t have time to get them,” I add. “You’re right about the first part—Ididbreak into your computer, but Danielle stepped into your office before the download was finished.” Istare at him to show him that I’m telling the truth, even though I’m not. I just hope I look convincing enough.
I challenge him with my eyes, waiting for what comes next. My heart still pounds out of my chest, but I ignore it, focusing on what’s more important—convincing my father that I don’t know anything.
When in actuality, I know too much.
God, I hate lying. But I have no other choice right now.
His eyes narrow, suggesting that he doesn’t believe me. He opens his mouth, about to say something else, when there’s a knock at the door. It cracks open a second later.
I jerk back, terror consuming me. My immediate thought is that he’s hired somebody to shut me up, but when I turn around and meet Melissa’s nervous eyes, the thought passes.
“Miss Watson?” she asks, loitering in the doorway. Her eyes shift to my father, her grip on the door handle tightening. Her gaze returns to me, her brows lifting. “Can I borrow you for a moment?”
“Yes,” I say, glancing back at my father. Then, I’m getting the hell out of there before I’m interrogated any further.
“You okay?” asks Melissa, frowning at my suddenly slumped posture.
I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Yeah. Thanks for asking.”
This doesn’t seem to put her at ease, but she knows better than to push for more. I sense her worried eyes on me as we make it back to my office.
Returning to the room, I turn back around. “What did you need me for?”
“Nothing,” she says, spinning around and leaving me to it.
I watch her walk away, her skirt flaring as she does so, heels clicking on the floor. It’s thanks to her that I got away easily. She clearly knows something is going on between me andmy father—she wouldn’t dare to knock on his office and save me like that.
I got away from him by the skin of my teeth.
But next time, I might not be so lucky.
