“Pull out of the project,” I say immediately. “We haven’t even broken ground yet.”
“I’ve sunk millions into this development.” His hands find his temples and he suddenly looks every bit his age. For the first time, my father looksold. “I can’t just pull out now. And—”
“And money is more important than your family?” Parker snarls. “Guess that shouldn’t come as much of a surprise.”
“Dad.” My voice breaks. “Please.”
His eyes lift to mine and this time, they’re red and watery with unshed tears.
Holy frack.
I’veneverseen my father cry.
Not once.
Not when Parker took off. Not at my graduation from MIT. Not when the crash of ’08 made stocks plummet. Not even the day we found my mother, or when we lowered her casket into the earth.
But he’s crying now.
I wish that somehow made all of this okay.
Nate turns his head to look at me. “Even if your father pulled out of the development, Mac won’t let him walk away — not now that he’s got his claws in him. He sees your father as a cash cow, his personal piggy bank to fund the mob. He’s not going to give that up. Not easily.”
“So…” I swallow. “He’ll keep coming after us until he gets what he wants?”
Nate’s jaw clenches tight. “Yes.”
“What about the police?”
“No police.” Nate’s words are clipped. “Can’t be trusted.”
“The FBI then.”
His eyes cut from me to my father, a knowing look in their depths. “I’m guessing if your father admits what he knows about Mac, it’ll incriminate him, too.”
Parker snorts. “Great. Fucking perfect.”
My stomach clenches. I hadn’t thought of that. Hadn’t considered the possibility that my father’s corruption might extend past shady bribes and business deals to actual criminal activity. Fraud. Extortion. Collusion.
White-collar crimes that could land him in federal prison.
“So we can’t do anything.” My words are shaky and so soft they barely make it past my lips.
My father’s head drops into his hands. A sob rattles his chest.
I take a half-step then freeze, torn between wanting to comfort him and wanting to strangle him for doing this to our family. Parker steps to my side and wraps an arm around my shoulders.
“Don’t worry, Sweet P. We’ll fix it.”
“How?”
“First, by putting you on the jet and flying you as far from here as possible,” Nate says, barely containing his anger. “I want you out of this city until this is over.”
My spine stiffens. “I’m not leaving. My family needs me.”
“You’re leaving.”
“No. I’m. Not.” I grit the words out between clenched teeth.