Touch (Denazen #1)(30)

“He’ll trade Mona for you,” he said evenly. Something in the sound of his voice made me shiver.

“Monica?” Alex asked.

“She had…an accident.” Dax’s fists tightened at his sides. “Cross said he was sorry for my loss.”

Alex clasped his shoulder. “I’m sorry, man.”

Dax waved him off, still glaring at me. “I have nothing against you, kid, but I’ll be honest…” He took several steps closer, stopping only when his face was inches from mine. Breath smelling faintly of beer and stale cigarettes puffed across my face. “If I didn’t know that bastard couldn’t care less about you, if I couldn’t see the truth of it in his voice—and yours—I’d kill you myself and mail you back to him in pieces.”

Ouch.

“Back away,” Kale said in a low growl from beside me. He made a move to tug off his right glove.

Dax didn’t budge.

“Now.” The glove was off, clenched between the fingers of his left hand. “If you threaten her again, I will kill you.”

Dax stepped back and bowed his head. When he looked up again, the anger was gone. “I apologize, Kale.” What about my apology? I was the one he’d threatened to chop up and Fed-Ex home. His gaze bounced to Alex, then back to Kale, before turning to me with a small grin. “I don’t envy you.”





11


Three hours later, Dax and I sat on a bench inside Memorial Park. Dad was due with Mona any minute. Kale had wanted to come with us, but I made him wait with Alex, who’d flat-out refused to show himself. They were waiting farther down the path by the lake. We couldn’t see them, but if things went wrong, they were within shouting distance.

I tugged at the hem of my red T-shirt, wishing Brandt had picked something ratty instead of one of my faves. It was pretty much ruined. Typical boy. No clue what on-the-run clothing was.

“Can I ask you a question?” Dax and I had called a truce. Sort of. I couldn’t hold a grudge. Hell—who could blame the guy? Part of his family had been stolen and I was the closest thing to payback he could get. While I wasn’t a fan of the slicing and dicing imagery, I understood. But we had a common enemy here and that’s what we needed to focus on.

“Go for it,” Dax said, leaning back. In the dark, the only part of him I could really see was his shaved head, which kind of glinted against the moonlight. He fidgeted with his keys, twirling them around his pointer finger.

“You said you knew Dad wasn’t worried about me being safe.”

An apologetic look crossed his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but I stopped him.

“No, it’s okay,” I lied. “I was never his favorite person. I just always thought it was because of my mother, which obviously it’s not. But if he doesn’t care, why does he want me back? He’s making the trade, but I doubt it’s to keep up appearances. It doesn’t seem like it’s something he’d need to do…”

Dax didn’t answer right away. He looked down the path, then tilted his head to the sky. After a few minutes passed, he said, “I’m torn. You’re a good person, I can tell. I want to tell you not to go back to him, but I need my nieces back.”

He realized his mistake and squeezed his eyes closed for a second. “Niece,” he corrected as his foot stomped against the ground.

“I know you have to do this to get the information for Ginger, but be careful. He intends to use you. You’ve been on the other side of enemy lines. You’re a new source of information now. You might be able to make it work in your favor—I can see what you’re planning to do—but I’m warning you. It might be harder than you think. If he were to find out who you really are…”

I opened my mouth, but Dax stopped me.

“I’m not going to say anything to anyone. Your secrets are your own. I just want you to know there’s a good chance this won’t go the way you’re planning. For all you know, he has it all figured out. And if he doesn’t, well, your father’s not a man easily fooled. You may have to play that ace you’ve got tucked inside your sleeve. You can’t hide yourself forever…”

Normally, if someone had said that to me, I’d tell them I’d made a career out of fooling my dad, but I wasn’t sure anymore. I was the one who’d been fooled all this time.

“Look alive.” I nudged his arm and whispered, “Make it look real.”

Seeing Dad walking down the path, Dax seized my arm, fingers digging into my skin, and hauled me from the bench. We stood in the path and waited while Dad and a tiny ghost of a girl approached. As they neared, I tried to keep my expression one of fear and pain. It wasn’t easy.

Mona walked beside Dad like a zombie, eyes vacant, expression dead. Her measured steps tapping the ground matched his perfectly.

Clap. Thump. Clap. Thump. They stopped about five feet away, Mona staring ahead, straight through her uncle. There was nothing. No emotion, no recognition. Only empty brown eyes, partially obscured by a mop of mousy brown curls.

“What’s wrong with her,” Dax growled. He probably didn’t mean to, but his fingers twitched, and I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from yelping.

“She’s fine,” Dad replied.

“Bullshit! Look at her. She’s the walking dead.”