The Freedom Broker (Thea Paris #1)(97)

“That night will haunt me forever. I know I can never make it up to you, but I’ve tried every day since.”

“I never wanted your pity, Thea. I wanted love and acceptance from my sister and father. You gave me that. He didn’t.”

Papa’s voice held remorse. “I did everything I could for you, son, but—”

“You considered me damaged goods from the moment you read my story. And we wouldn’t want to sully the great Paris name, would we?”

“You’re wrong, Nikos. I did what I could to protect you.”

“And that’s why you sent me to the loony bin. Then away to that school for troubled kids. Because you loved me so much.”

Papa looked as if he was at war with himself. “You needed help.”

“Help from strangers wasn’t what I needed. I wanted my family to stand by me.”

Papa’s eyes bulged. “It wasn’t safe to have you with us. For Christ’s sake, Nikos, I covered up a murder for you.”

Thea felt sucker-punched. “Murder? What murder?”

Nikos glanced at her. “Our nanny. She was a bully.”

All the air left her lungs. Allison had been a stern, unforgiving taskmaster, not popular with her or her brother, but she’d never hurt them. The woman’s sudden disappearance made a sick sense now.

“When I left Oba’s camp, I had a mission in life: to restore balance in the world by destroying bullies.”

“There are many ways to make the world a better place, but killing people is never the answer.” Papa spoke slowly, as if to a child.

“Justice is a hard game. Playing by the rules doesn’t work. Ares made a difference.”

Ares? So he justified being an arms dealer as a way to fight bullying? It was as if he was still twelve and just back from his abduction. He was the hero in his own story, but his quest was twisted.

Christos’s face reddened. “You’re no Robin Hood, just a common criminal.”

Nikos laughed, a short bark devoid of humor. “You’re the epitome of greed and a bully. That’s why I won’t let you have Kanzi.”

Christos snaked his hand into a coiled pile of cords and harnesses. “Too late. Kanzi is already in my pocket. Prime Minister Kimweri and I made a deal weeks ago. The negotiations were only for show.”

Papa had faked his own kidnapping, but not because he was afraid of Nikos. He’d wanted to beat Nikos at his own demented game.

With all her insight and ability to read others, Thea had been blinded to the true character of the two people closest to her. She understood Nikos’s damage. He’d been through hell and couldn’t find his way back. Her father didn’t have that excuse.

She needed to force her roiling emotions aside and de-escalate the situation. “We’re family. We have to find a way to work this out.”

Nikos’s voice trembled with emotion. “Time to choose, Thea. Him or me.”

The frustrated boy who’d felt abandoned by his father, the child soldier who’d had to murder innocents, the arms dealer who sold weapons to foment rebellion—could she appeal to the brother she loved, the one who’d always protected her?

“Who’s the bully now, Nikos?”

But her brother was beyond that kind of self-reflection.

“Good-bye, Papa,” he said. He shoved their father closer to the edge, but Christos dropped to his knees, spreading himself on the platform so it would be difficult to push him off. One hand grabbed the side railing; the other clutched one of the bungee cords.

Nikos kicked him hard in the side, then forced his legs off the edge. Christos lost his grip on the railing and grappled for the platform but couldn’t quite reach it. He pulled the cord he’d grabbed with him as his body weight worked against him, dragging him over the side.

Thea dove forward, but her hands grasped air. Christos tumbled toward the Zambezi River, the bungee cord wrapped around his arm, the slack snaking off the platform after him.

While her brother leaned over the railing to watch, Thea shimmied backward, snatching a harness, securing it to her hips. Her gaze met Nikos’s for a fraction of a second, a lifetime of memories passing between them as he saw the choice in her eyes.

“He’s not worth it.” Her brother lunged toward her.

Twisting away from him, she dove off the platform’s open ledge into free fall. Inverted, she sliced downward, the air barreling past her ears, obliterating all other sounds. The wind whipped her hair as the river rushed toward her. Falling, falling, she scanned the water for Papa, but she couldn’t find any sign of him in the deep, rushing river below.

The bungee cord reached its full extension. A strong jerk grabbed her hips and legs, and she bounced upward, weightless. Blood rushed to her head, leaving her disoriented. After a long moment, she fell toward the water again, then another sharp tug pulled her up. Up and down, up and down. People enjoyed this?

The yo-yoing slowed, and she swung at the end of her tether, studying the waters thirty feet below, searching for Papa. Finally, movement in the river caught her eye. Her father had survived the fall and was clinging to a rock. His head disappeared underwater and resurfaced again, bobbing like a cork as the rushing waters of the Zambezi tried to sweep him away.

Thea jackknifed her body, clutching the bungee cord with her left hand. She reached for her boot knife so she could cut herself free. Before she could remove the knife, something slammed into her right shoulder blade. Pain reverberated down her spine, and she lost her grip on the cord, spinning around and around upside down, like a top.