Fate Book Two (19 page)

It
is
Felix.

Felix had been taken to some black site where he probably received all of those injuries, compliments of my father’s people. How the hell had he gotten loose?

But if that is Felix, then where’s Paolo?
I feared the worst. Not only that, I had been sending my parents messages, leading them right here to Felix. Thank God they hadn’t come.

I scrambled to my room to get my purse and my journal. If on the off chance Paolo was looking for me, I could send him a message to tell him where I was going: the hell away from here.

I grabbed the book, intending to write a quick note, but when I looked inside, I almost choked on my tongue. A page that was once blank now had writing. And it was Paolo’s.

Run from him, Dakota. It’s a trap. - P

I don’t know how he’d done it, but Paolo had managed to send a message via my fate book to warn me. Thank God he was still alive. And he knew that Felix was loose. That also meant that my father had to know, so there was no risk of them—

“Dakota! Baby!” I heard my mom’s voice call out from near the front door.

What. The. Fuck?

I stood and forced myself not to yell.
Don’t panic. Don’t panic.

My mind raced, and like I’d swallowed a magic pill, the moment transformed into some twisted, slow-motion, avant-garde performance art.

Then I heard Paolo’s voice grumbling and my mother’s shocked reaction. “Oh dear God, Paolo. What happened to you?”

Oh shit.
The man out there was Felix. He was the ruthless kind of man who could wait patiently for his revenge, camouflaging himself as a friendly face and feeling zero remorse.

He had been waiting for my father to show up.

My parents were going to die if I didn’t do something.

Go, Dakota. You got this.

I emerged from the room with my arms in the air. “Mom! Ohmygod!” I hugged her tightly. “Where have you guys been?”

“We went to South America! I insisted your father turn off all of his gadgets because he’s officially retired, but now he’s furious after seeing all of the missed messages. What in the world happened to you, Paolo?” She was already trying to coax him to sit so she could check his eyes. “You need to get to a hospital, young man.”

“Mom, where’s Dad?”

“He’s coming up with the luggage—”

“Dammit, did you have to buy so much crap in Peru?” My father’s gruff voice came through the door before he did. When he appeared, he looked sunburned and exhausted, wearing some horrible handmade green sweater my mother had no doubt bought for him.

“Dad!” I kept my voice crazy happy to avoid Felix’s suspicion, but I had to raise a flag. I hugged my father tightly. “So, so glad you’re here.”

As I looked into his gray eyes, knowing that Felix couldn’t see, I mouthed the word “Felix.”

Not a flinch. Not a blink. Not even a subtle shift in his smile. Now
that
was a goddamned spy.

“Well, baby,” he said, “I’m sorry we weren’t responding to all of your urgent messages, but your mother made me—”

My father stopped speaking and stared directly over my shoulder. Felix had a gun pressed to my mother’s temple.

My father slowly lifted his palms. “Felix, whatever you want, you can have it. Just let my wife and daughter go.”

Felix shed his “softer” facade and let the serpent loose. “I want you dead. That’s what I want.”

My father nodded. “Okay. You can have me. Just let Dakota and my wife leave.”

My brain made an incomplete somersault, like it was trying desperately to come up with a solution that didn’t exist.

Felix laughed. “Are you fucking kidding me? You think I’d let any of you live? You tortured me. Beat me. Ruined my family—”

“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about,” my father said. “I’m not part of that organization anymore.”

“You think I’d believe a fucking word you say?”

“Felix,” I spoke in a quiet voice, “I don’t know what they did to you, but I promise my mom and dad had nothing to do with it.”

The gun shook in his hand, vibrating against my mother’s temple. “Your father is responsible for everything.”

“No, sweetie,” I said. “He’s just an old, useless piece of shit. I had him retired over a year ago.”

“Dakota,” my father warned.

“Alzheimer’s.” I shrugged. “Half the time he doesn’t know who I am.”

Felix frowned. “You. A nineteen-year-old little bitch took his place?”

That was when I noticed from the corner of eye my father calmly tugging on the cuff of his shirt. He had something inside his sleeve?

I laughed. “Who the fuck do you think put your family behind bars, Felix? Who do you think gave the order to have you beaten with a bat?” I winked at him and then there was a strange burning sensation in my stomach, and when I looked at Felix, the gun was no longer pointed at my mother. It was pointed at me.

~~~

“Dakota? Dakota? If you can hear me, it’s time to open your eyes now,” I heard a deep voice say.

I didn’t want to open my eyes, but the persistent tapping on my cheek wouldn’t go away. “Dakota,” the stern voice repeated, “wake up, honey.”

Yes, it was my father. Why wouldn’t he leave me alone?

“I know you’re in pain, but I need to speak with you.” His voice sounded agitated, like he might ground me if I didn’t do what he said. And why was he saying that I was in pain? I felt fine. Didn’t I?

“What?” I grumbled.

“That’s right, honey,” I felt his warm hand squeeze mine, “open those blue eyes for me.”

I cracked open one eye and the thick fog began to clear from my head the moment I saw the backdrop of the hospital room—white walls, white ceiling, IV drip and heart monitor to my side. My father, who wore a white golf shirt and khaki pants, sat beside me in a plastic molded chair, looking like he was at the end of his rope. Even his cropped, silver hair looked a little messy, like he’d slept on one side and didn’t bother to comb it.

“What happened?” I asked. “Where’s Mom?”

His normally cold face presented an affectionate smile. “Your mother is at the hotel, resting for a few hours, which is why I need to talk to you before she returns.”

“Why am I in the hospital?” I began remembering bits, but nothing made sense.

“Felix shot you in the stomach.”

“I was shot?” I moved my hand to my abdomen, where I felt a bunch of lumpy bandages underneath the sheet covering my body.

Holy crap.
I didn’t remember being shot. I just remembered Felix standing there holding the gun.

“Yes, and you saved our lives.”

I managed to fully open both eyes and look at my father’s conflicted face. I don’t ever remember seeing him look so…so…sad, really.

“Aw shucks. It was nothing.” I smiled.

“No, it wasn’t nothing, which is why I’m going to leave. This can’t go on anymore.”

“What are you talking about?”

“As long as I’m around, you and your mother will never be safe.”

“Wait. What are you saying?” I mumbled.

He looked down at his hand, which rested on my arm. “I’m leaving. For good.”

What?
“You can’t leave. It would break Mom’s heart.” It would break mine, too.

“That’s why I’m telling you everything this time. You have to be there for her. For a while, anyway. She’s an amazingly strong woman, and she’ll be okay.”

I tried to sit up and wrap my hands around his neck to strangle him, but the contraction of my stomach muscles wasn’t happening. They must’ve given me something to numb the pain.

“See. This is the problem, Dad. You make these choices for us, but you never stop and think to involve us.”

“This isn’t a democracy. This is life. Your life. Your mother’s life. And I can’t live with myself, knowing you and your mother will always be at risk—kidnapped, tortured, or worse—because of me.” His eyes watered, and I was speechless. My father had always been so cold and strong. Never in a million years could I have imagined him crying. “Just know, Dakota, that you have been the light of my life. My reason for fighting so hard to make this world safer. And I couldn’t be prouder of the woman you’ve become.” He took a deep breath and then stood.

“Dad, please. There has to be another way.”

“No. There really isn’t.”

“Where will you go?”

“Right now, I’m going to Rome to find Paolo. After that, I’m not sure.”

“Wait. What happened to Paolo?” My mind was so foggy that I couldn’t think. “Did Felix do something to him?”

“All you need to know is that I will get Paolo back to you.”

Oh God. Oh God.
His family had found him out.

“Where are we?” Come hell or high water, I was going to be on that next flight to Rome with him.

I tried to sit up again, but my father pushed me back down. “Where do you think you’re going?” he scolded.

“To get Paolo.”

He shook his head. “Dakota, you’ve been shot. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Dad, I can’t lie here and do nothing.”

“You have to trust me this time and know that there is nothing I want more in this world than to see you happy. And safe. It was a mistake to help my organization bring Paolo back in and to lie to you about it. It was an even bigger mistake because I wasn’t running the operation.”

“You weren’t?”

“No. I promised your mother that I was done, and I kept that promise. But had I been involved, I wouldn’t have let this happen—and dammit, Dakota, what were you thinking going to Rome?”

Nice.
Coming from the man who spun the initial webs of deceit, I couldn’t comprehend how he got off scolding me for anything. “You have no right, Dad. So don’t even go there.”

“I did what I felt was best for you, but trust me, the guilt is something I’ve had to live with every day. That’s why when you asked me to leave you alone, I did. I had no idea where you were. But believe me, had I known, I would have extracted you the moment you stepped foot in Italy.”

“Oh.” He’d kept his word, but I’d broken mine. I’d told my mother I wouldn’t go anywhere dangerous.

“Your mother and I were on vacation, completely unplugged. She said it was the only way I’d get any rest. When we finally checked back in, we received your urgent messages and hopped on the first plane. I didn’t learn about everything in Rome until after Felix shot you.”

So they really had been disconnected and my father had tried to keep his promises. That meant a lot to me.

“How did Felix get loose?” I asked.

“We don’t know, but he killed six men in the process. Then our people had to change the plan before everything unraveled. Luckily, we still caught the buyers, even though Felix managed to tip off his father and flee before our people arrested the family.”

“Where is he now?”

“Dead. I shot him right after he shot you.”

Oh thank God.
I didn’t think I’d ever sleep again knowing Felix was alive. That man was every bit as evil as Paolo had described.

“But…well,” my father ran his large hand through his short silver hair, “now I know that there is no retiring from this game. And the only thing I can do is make things right before I go.” He bent down and kissed my forehead. The tears flowed freely from my eyes. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too, but please…don’t leave us.” I quietly sobbed. This would break my mother’s heart. And, yes, I would miss him, too.

“My life for yours and for your mother’s is the only option.” He turned to leave and looked at me with those steely gray eyes. “Be happy, Dakota. And take good care of your mom.”

He disappeared out the door. “No! Dad. Come back!” I screamed, but he wasn’t coming back. He felt there was no other way to do right by us, and there was absolutely nothing I could say to him. Nothing at all.

So I cried. And then I cried some more. When a nurse finally showed up, she told me I was in some secret military hospital outside of Chicago. I guess it paid for my father to have friends in high places. When my mother arrived and asked where my father had gone, I didn’t have the heart to tell her what he’d said. I supposed a tiny part of me still hoped he’d change his mind and come back. But that was just a tiny part of me. The rest knew the truth and didn’t want to face it. So I told my mom he’d gone to Rome to find Paolo. I hadn’t even asked what happened to Horse, but now it was too late. I could only hope for the best for all of us.

~~~

Two days later.

As I lay on the hospital bed, eating green Jell-O, watching
Days of Our Lives
, and trying not to draw too many conclusions about myself based on the fact that my life was way worse than the characters’, I started thinking of a way to get my father to change his mind. There really wasn’t any, because he was right. Having him in our lives would always present some level of danger. But what he failed to understand was that we deserved a vote on the matter. Someone needed to make him realize that it was our lives, and it was our choice what risks we took.

Sadly, I knew my father wouldn’t listen to me or my mother on the matter, but Paolo had to be showing up at any moment. He’d know what to do.

“Dakota!” My mother burst into the hospital room, her face beet red and her eyes streaming with tears. She reached for the TV remote at my side, her hands trembling as she flipped to the news.

“What’s going on?” I asked, knowing that whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

She pointed to the screen, but when she opened her mouth, she couldn’t form any words.

On the TV was the image of an airplane that had exploded during takeoff in Rome.

“Ohmygod.” My mind ran away from me as it took in the words at the bottom of the screen. Six killed in a terrorist attack in Rome. No survivors. The newscasters speaking in the background then said the words “Jim Dane, international photographer,” along with several other names.

My heart nearly collapsed. He was dead? My father was dead?

My mother fell to the floor crying, and two nurses came in to help her. I tried to move, but the wound in my abdomen made it impossible. I had to lie there, helpless to comfort her, and watch her world fall apart while mine crumbled, too.