Wild at Heart (7 page)

“Friends in high places make a campaign successful. The senator will practically guarantee my win.” My father’s eyes darkened as he nodded at me. “And his son is part of the package. Jack is helping out on my campaign as he builds toward his own future in politics. You will have to make nice.”

My knees buckled and the room began to sway. “Make…
nice?
“ I choked out the words. “I can’t believe you’re…oh, my god. He didn’t push me off the swing at the playground!
He raped me
.”

“Malicious intent on his part has never been proven,” he said coolly.

“BECAUSE YOU HELPED COVER IT UP!” Seeing red, breathing fire, I tried to reign myself in. “Forget it. I don’t need this. I’m no longer part of the McKinley Family Theatre. This puppet has cut her fucking strings.”

“
Reagan
.” There was a sharp warning in his voice. “Do not make the mistake of walking out on this family again. You will regret it.”

“See, that’s the thing,
Dad
,” I said. “I won’t. I’m done here.” I headed for the door, Jackson be damned. Fuck him if he was still out there. Fuck them all.

My father had never bothered being a father in any real way. He just played the part in pictures and at press conferences. Politics had always come first in his heart, and I was only ever valuable as a prop to help further his career. I shuddered, realizing that he would even hand me over to Jackson if it meant pleasing the senator.

“I am warning you, Reagan Allison McKinley.”

Pausing in the doorway, I turned my head and said, “Stay the hell away from Dare.”

My bravado lasted all the way to the foyer. I called the elevator, pressing the button over and over again with shaking fingers as I heard someone call my name.

No. Not someone.

Him.

I could never forget that voice or the way my name sounded on his lips.

My entire body began to tremble as I prayed for the elevator to hurry up. Finally, it opened and a laughing group of women from one of my mother’s charities filed past me. I rushed in, hitting the button for the ground floor as Jackson’s voice grew louder. Just before the door slid shut, he came into view.

Our eyes connected for a brief moment, causing my throat to close and my breath to catch. Then the doors slid shut, blessedly letting me breathe again, and the elevator took me away to safety.

nine

M
y mom moved around the kitchen, her long dark hair pulled up and off her face. She wiped and rewiped every surface, as if they’d gotten dirty since she’d cleaned yesterday. And every day before that.

Her nervous energy was putting me on edge.

For the past three weeks—ever since I’d been released—she’d been taking care of me in my new apartment. Dash had my stuff packed up and sent from Paris, and it had arrived about a week ago. My mom had put everything away.

Everything except my art stuff. That was mine to do, and I wasn’t ready yet.

My right hand throbbed in the splint, and I angrily shoved away all thoughts about art. Especially mine. Only time would tell whether that hand would ever be of any use again.

Fucking time.

Time was screwing with my life. Time was keeping me from Ree. Time was the only thing my dad had before I caught up with him.

“Mom,” I said quietly, my voice making her jump.

Pressing a shaky hand to her chest, she turned toward me. “Dear god, Dare. Wear a bell, would you?” She wiped the hair off her forehead with the back of her hand. “What are you doing up? You feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said. A lie. I was pissed as hell about everything, but I shoved it down as deep as I could. “We’re not done talking.”

“I am.” She turned her back on me and went over to scrub the sink. Again. “That conversation is over.”

“Toronto.”

“No.” She smashed the sponge down onto the counter and whipped around, her eyes flashing. “I am not leaving you here to deal with all this by yours—”

“Have you talked to him?”

Her eyes widened, and she pressed her lips together.

I shook my head. “This is why you have to go. He’ll suck you in again. And I can’t keep you safe…from yourself.”

Her shoulders sagged and she leaned against the counter. “I just…I don’t know what it is about him. I’m sorry, Dare. I can’t help it.”

“I know. Which is why you have to go. Dalia and Dax are safe out west and, lucky for us, he seems to only have it out for me.”

“Not lucky for you.” There was real fear in her eyes.

I laughed, a hollow, cold sound. “I can handle him. If he’s only focused on me, then I don’t have to worry about any of you. But he’ll try to hurt me by hurting you, Mom. You know he will. I bought you a ticket on the train leaving tomorrow morning. Julie will meet you at the station in Toronto.” I walked slowly across the kitchen and put my arm around her shaking shoulders. “I’ll be okay. I promise.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was muffled, small. “This is all my fault.”

“No,” I said, squeezing her tight. “It’s him. It’s always been him.” I looked around the pristine kitchen. “You should pack. The train leaves early.”

There wasn’t anything she could say to make me change my mind, and she knew that, so she gave me one last squeeze and then left the room without another word. We’d been arguing about this all day. She was the last loose end that needed tying up before I could take care of him. Once and for all. I’d let her stay this long in part because I knew she felt responsible for what had happened to me, and also because I’d needed the help.

As much as I hated to admit it.

But my strength was returning and the longer she stayed, the more likely it was my father would show up, probably sooner than I would be ready.

And, this time, I had to be ready.

Because no one I loved was safe while he was alive and free. Not my mom. Not the Terrors. Not Rex. And especially not Ree.

Ree.

It was killing me to not have her here with me, but I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t risk her.

The fingers of my good hand skimmed the outline of the phone in my pocket. Rex had been checking in with me daily, not only to see how I was doing, but to let me know how Ree was. I’d lost count of how many times an hour I reached for my cell, itching to dial his number. Just on the off chance I’d hear her voice in the background. I hadn’t yet, knowing full well that I wouldn’t be able to stay away if I did.

Cursing under my breath, I slammed my hand on the counter. Fuck, I needed a distraction. Something to do. Anything to get my mind off Ree.

But my mom had done everything.

Everything but my studio.

All of my art supplies and paintings were still boxed up, collecting dust. It was the last room that needed unpacking, and I’d been putting it off even though I needed to go through my paintings for a show Rex was setting up for me. Some gallery manager was coming by in a couple of days. Though I desperately needed the money, I hadn’t even wanted to get started on that. It was just one more reminder of what I couldn’t do right now, and might not be able to ever do again. Why torture myself with one more thing I couldn’t have?

But, fuck it all, I was desperate for a distraction. And desperate times…

I walked down the hall, and stood in the doorway, staring at the piled up boxes. So much potential in this room. Too much. And as much as it pained me to even think about my art right now, if anything was going to keep my mind off Ree it was this.

Art had once been the sole love of my life. Until I met Ree.

But the two were so entwined now—my love for art and my love for her. They crissed and crossed, wrapped around my heart and mind. Ree was art. Art was Ree. They’d become one and the same, and damn it all, unpacking these boxes was doing nothing BUT making me think about her.

“FUCK!” I yelled into the empty room.

The sound bounced off the colorless walls, ricocheting like gunfire. I yanked out blank canvases and launched them across the room. Grabbing tubes of paint, I hurled them as hard as I could, one after the other until the box was empty.

The cap had flown off of a tube of cadmium red, splattering the white walls and scattered canvases with splotches of red.

And I froze.

Horrifying images from thirteen years ago flashed through my mind. I’d found out that one of my dad’s men was an undercover cop and had accidentally let it slip. Dad dragged me to a meeting, jumped the guy, and put the gun in my hand.

“You get to do the honors, kid,” he’d said. “Since you discovered it.” Then he leaned in close to me, his eyes gleaming as he looked at the doomed man, beaten beyond recognition already. “It’s like winning the fucking lottery, isn’t it, Junior?”

My hands shook like mad, and there was no way I was going to pull the trigger, even though everyone was staring at me, goading me on. A fucking twelve-year-old kid.

I lowered my gun, breathing hard, no idea what was in store for me. My dad would not take this lightly—my refusal—but I just couldn’t do it.

My father turned his gun on me. “Fucking shoot the narc or I’ll fucking shoot you.”

I closed my eyes and waited, the gun growing heavier by the second. Water dripped from across the room, and the only other sound I heard was footsteps getting closer.

The first hit knocked me clean off my feet, and the gun skittered out of my hands. My forehead stung like crazy, warmth washing over it, and I was reaching up to clutch my head when something hard hit my arm. I heard the bone crack a moment before the pain registered, and I started screaming.

He leaned over and smacked my face. “Shut up, little girl. Such a fucking pussy.” He hauled me to my feet as I clutched my arm to my body, then he put his foot on my ass and pushed. I went flying forward, arms outstretched to catch myself. My body crumpled to the ground, the bones of my arm ripping through skin as I howled in pain.

“Leave the kid alone, you fucking psycho!” The words were spat out, drops of blood splattering as if to punctuate.

I lay there panting on the ground, blackness crowding the edges of my vision, as my father looked over his shoulder at the cop.

“How fucking noble of you, Officer Douglas, trying to save my worthless son.” My dad stalked toward him slowly, menacingly, his finger caressing the trigger of his gun as he raised it and aimed.

Waves of pain crashed over me, each one bigger than the last, and nausea rose higher and higher. Darkness shrouded me, my eyes closed, and everything sounded far, far away.

“Too bad there’s no one here to save you, you son of a bitch.” My dad’s voice came at me from the end of a long tunnel. The shot that rang out was the last thing I heard that night.

I heard the echo of that gunshot in my nightmares for years.

Everyone involved had been silenced in one way or another. My dad had gotten away with it, and the murder had gone unsolved.

But not anymore.

THIS could bring him down.

I could go to the police, tell them what I knew, what I’d seen.

The only problem? I had no proof and wasn’t witness to the crime—I hadn’t actually seen him shoot the cop.

My vision blurred as I stared at the mess I’d made. And then it hit me.

I had no proof…
but Stanzi did
. If he was still alive. And if I could find the little parasite.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped back a few feet, almost staggering under the immensity of what I was thinking about doing. If I turned in my dad, I’d also be implicating myself. Taking away my father’s freedom could cost me my own.

Was it a price I was willing to pay to keep my family and Ree safe?

Hell yes.

THIS was what I’d had over him.

It hadn’t been an ace I was holding the first time I went to see him. It had been a goddamn wild card.

Deadly calm spread throughout my body, and I felt more certain of this than I had of most decisions I’d ever made in my life.

My father was going down by MY hand. Finally.

I’d spent a lifetime being his prey, but I was about to become his predator.

And the best part?

He was never going to see it coming.

ten