“I should just go inside,” she says, and I turn and catch her to me again, turning her back to that banister and setting my hands on her shoulders.
“Adam didn’t tell you everything,” I say.
“Are you going to tell me?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Whatever it is—”
“We need to talk about the man who pulled me into the black ops program. The man who convinced me to join the mercenary operation.”
“You respected him.”
“Very much and I wanted to protect him, I still do. For you, Candace.”
Her brow furrows. “I don’t understand.”
“It was your father.”
“What? My father?”
“Yes, baby. He gave the orders. I don’t know how Gabriel fits into that, but I know he does. We’ve found enough for me to believe he wants those who could hurt him, Tag and your father, gone.”
“My father turned you into an assassin.”
“Your father saw something in me and exploited it. He didn’t make me an assassin. I made me an assassin.”
“How did he see an assassin in a surgeon?”
I release her and press my hands to the railing on either side of her. “A man who knows how to save a life knows how to take one.” I push back intending to give her space to breathe, but she grabs my arm.
“Rick—”
I don’t want to know what she’s going to say. I catch the back of her head and kiss her, a deep stroke of the tongue that leaves no room for words. That’s when the doorbell rings. Her hands go to my chest, urgency in her face, in her words. “What if Gabriel knows I’m not at my father’s? What if Gabriel sent someone to check on me?”
My hands come down on my arms. “Relax, baby. We’re watching him and you here. Maybe it’s Linda.”
“Yes. She texted me.”
The patio door opens and Smith pokes his head out. “It’s a sixty-something man in uniform.”
“I don’t know who that could be,” she says, and then she pales, all the blood running from her face. “Oh God. Oh God. What if my father is dead? Are they informing me that my father is dead?”
“Candace, baby. No. They come in pairs. And it’s usually young soldiers given that duty.”
“Not always. Not always. That’s not true.” She twists away from me and charges at Smith, who moves out of the way.
She runs forward, and I quickly pursue. Her father isn’t dead. That’s not what this is. I’m sure of it for many reasons, including that text she found on Gabriel’s burner phone. I catch up with her at the door, and she’s facing me and leaning against it, looking pale. “It’s not about my father, Rick.”
I step in front of her. “Who is it?”
“Your father.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Savage
I lean forward, hands on the door on either side of her, my chin to my chest with the impact, the absolute fucking punch that is my father’s visit. “What the fuck is he doing here?”
Candace’s hands go to my face and she leans in close, her lips at my ear. “I can get rid of him.”
Her reaction tells of how rich and deep our history runs. It’s why she warned me about him at the event. She knows how I feel about him and she knows why.
“No,” I say, lifting my gaze to hers and catching her hands between us. “He’s a problem that gets in the way, our way. He needs to go away and stay away. I’m the one that makes that happen.” I kiss her hands, a silent thank you in the action. “I got this.”
“I don’t want you to have to talk to him. I know what he does to you. We both know that he played as much of a role in why you left as anyone.”
My hands come down on her shoulders. “I’m not the man I was then. No one controls what I do, especially that bastard. Go help Adam and Smith.” I kiss her and set her away from me.
“Rick,” she pleads, but I don’t turn back. I open the door and step out onto the porch, pulling the door shut behind me.
My father straightens to damn near attention. “Son. I knew you’d be with her. I saw you with her last night. That politician she’s engaged to has nothing on you.”
That’s a dig. He’s rubbing in what I loved and lost. If I expected to feel something other than hate for the man, he’s made sure I don’t. I still hate him. “What do you want?”
“To see my son. You look good.” His gaze slides to my cheek. “Except your face. I hope you hurt the man who did that to you.”
“I killed him. What else?”
“Seriously? You haven’t seen me in eight years and that’s all you have to say?’
“We said all we had to say the night mom died.”
“You haven’t changed, I see. An arrogant, treacherous bastard.” He laughs. “Chip off the old block.”