“You to extend your compassion to her. Especially knowing what kind of person she is,” he answered, looking toward the front door.
“I—”
“You and Carrie…the way you have remained so gentle and loving…after everything you have been through…” He trailed off, lost in his own thoughts. “I don’t understand it.”
I gave an unsteady smile, my chest tight. “Well, Carrie just grants everyone the same mercy she knew she deserved as a child.”
His eyes were back on me. “And you?”
“I just want to be worthy enough,” I admitted. “Being kind to others helps me accept all my flaws, including the anger I’ve hoarded.”
The bear of a man was staring at me now, brow furrowed, frozen.
I shrugged. “I can be a bitch when I need to be, but being a bitch to her wouldn’t have done me any good. She’s in enough pain as it is.”
“Hayes is going to be pissed,” he noted, scratching his beard.
“Probably.”
“I’m going to hang until he gets back. I don’t like that she was here.”
I gave him a tiny smile as I turned to head into the bedroom. “Fine by me.”
Then I headed into the bathroom, took one look at myself in the mirror, and said, “I’m proud of you.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Hayes
Margo: Veronica is here.
I stared at the text on my screen, frozen in time, while Jake walked us through the last two remaining safe houses operated by Gordon at the head of the conference table.
“Mitchell?” Gray called.
I blinked, brows snapped together. My chest started to heave as my fingers tightened around the screen. Another text came in from Ash.
Ash: Veronica is here. Margo is handling her, but you need to know—Dela sent your ex here, man.
“Excuse me,” I muttered, rising from my seat. I left the room, ignoring the questions being called out to my back. I dialed Dela and planted the phone to my ear as I moved down to my office, shoulders tight.
“Hello?” she answered on the second ring.
“I’m only going to ask you this once, and Dela, I swear to God, you better answer me,” I clipped, opening my office door.
“What’s wrong?” she asked in a panic.
I stopped behind my desk and looked up at the painting on my wall. “Did you send my ex to Portland?”
I listened to her huff and utter out incoherent words of disbelief with a hand on my hip, glaring at the painting. “I thought—I thought you and Veronica were just on a break because you moved to Portland.”
A harsh laugh left me. “That's what she told you, sis?”
“Well, yes. She came to me, distraught over the distance, and I told her that surprising you with a romantic weekend might be what you both need.”
“You have to stop trying to fix me,” I whispered, venom in my words. “It isn’t your job to fix what our father broke, Dela.”
“I—”