Page 108 of Reckless Seduction
You can do this.
I’ve been standing outside the door to his suite for a little over ten minutes, pacing frantically. I wring my hands, slide them through my hair, bury my face in them, and keep muttering those words to myself repeatedly until it all begins to meld together.
“Okay,” I breathe, stepping up to the door, fist raised to knock. “You can?—”
It swings open before I have a chance to finish.
I’m not sure what I imagined my biological father to look like, but this sure as hell isn’t it. He is a mountain of a man, standing just a bit taller than the twins, with beefy, tatted muscles that are easily seen beneath the tight, painted-on black T-shirt. His graying black hair is cropped short, but he has a bushy salt and pepper beard. He looks like a mountain man. His eyes are the same crystal blue, with deepened edges hidden beneath bushy brows.
Jesus, I’m related to the brawny paper towel man.
“Hello, Bailey.” His voice holds a deep, thunderous timbre that sinks into my bones.
“H-hi,” I stutter out.
Kill me now.
The big man grins, the simple action lighting up his face.
“My name is Toph Eriksen.”
I swallow against the lump in my throat. “I’m Bailey.”
“I know.”
Insert facepalm here.
“Right…”
He chuckles warmly. “I see you got your mother’s awkwardness. She could stampede right through a sea of half-drunk bikers without a second thought but introduce her to someone new and she was all thumbs.”
“Can you tell me about her?” I ask. “And… you?”
A sadness creeps into his features. Longing and regret. He opens the door wider and motions for me to enter. I step inside, my footsteps tentative. I’m shocked when Seamus informed me that his father has set Toph up in one of the rooms on the guest floor. I hadn’t expected the hatchet to be buried so easily.
The television in the den is going. The footage of Richard Crowe’s failed announcement for his bid for presidency has been running on repeat for the last twenty-four hours. I learned that a few things had taken place yesterday, not just my rescue. While they were breaching their way into the brothel, Ava and her right-hand man, Vas, had gone after Drew and Brittany.
Both of whom are now dead.
I can breathe easier on that front.
At the same time all of this was going on, Crowe was in the middle of giving his speech on doing what is right for the country and how if the people elect him as president… blah, blah, bullshit. Unbeknownst to him, the screen behind him began to play every depraved home video he made with the underage girls he trafficked into the city.
Shocker.
So much for family values.
He was arrested on the spot. A lump grows in my throat as I watch the footage replay. Reporters hammer down the door at the house, and cameras flash as Sarah is led away in handcuffs for her part. Complicity is a bitch. She got what she deserves.
“Dalia. Dalia.” The reporter on the screen hounds my former “half-sister.”
“What do you have to say about the actions of your parents? Were you involved? Did you know what they were doing?”
She presses by them, her gaze hidden by a pair of dark sunglasses. Are they red-rimmed from crying, or is she as stone cold as her mother?
The screen flashes to show Crowe’s face, and I flinch. It is the same look he had back in that room. It is full of anger, but there is a knowing twist to the corner of his lips. What does he know that gives him such confidence? Does he believe that the charges won’t stick? The entire city—no, the entire nation—has seen what a despicable, corrupted individual he is.
“He won’t be a problem anymore, Bailey,” Toph whispers next to me. His assurance feels confident, and it warms me.
