Chasing Impossible (Pushing the Limits #5)(83)

“The alley couldn’t have been a setup. Ricky warned me off from selling that night. Linus had no idea I’d be there.”

“Them going after Eric’s crew was a setup, but by you not paying attention, you stumbled into it.” His murderous glare and firm reprimand cause me to internally shrink. “Linus told me that he had been talking to Tommy about possible ways to scare you into submission for a few weeks, but he swears none of it was supposed to hurt you. After they did their business in the alley, Linus decided to take advantage of your stupidity and scare you into going deeper.”

“Why did he confess?”

Dad briefly glances away as his eyes soften and that causes my heart to warm. “Linus knows what you mean to me and part of his job was to protect you. He lost you with Eric’s kidnapping. Thought he had lost you for good. He came to tell me and then...” Dad returns his typical hard stare on me. “I told him I already knew and that if he valued his life, he better tell me the truth real f*cking quick.”

I shiver and my stomach bottoms out. Death is in my father’s eyes. The type that’s either already been done or is in the works. Either way, Dad has played the reaper, I just don’t know who he’s been toying with. “How did you know about Eric? Why are you working with him?”

My father merely holds up his hand and I fall silent. “Do you want out, Abby?”

“But—”

“Do you want out? Because if you do, you don’t get to know any of this business anymore. If you want to stay in, tell me, but the stakes of the game have been raised. You will have to accept that promotion, and I can no longer guarantee your safety.”

It’s hard to recover from the pain ripping me up on the inside. Linus...my God, Linus. The ache in my chest is too hard to ignore. He, at the heart of it, was like a mentor to me. And Dad was right, I trusted him. Not in the way I trusted Logan or Isaiah. But I thought he was an ally among wolves. “I want out. It’s going to be tough to figure out how to take care of Grams, but I think I can swing it.”

“You can’t go back to Louisville,” Dad says. “Retired dealers are a liability. Especially you. You know too much. On both sides. Ricky can be dangerous, but so can some of your clients. Any of them thinking you’re making a deal with police could cause you problems. And by the cards I’ve been playing lately, I can’t trust that someone won’t take their aggressions for my choices out on you. In here, I don’t have the reaction time needed to keep you safe.”

The world spins. “Where am I supposed to go? Do?”

“Denny’s working on it. I knew you’d eventually surface and figured you’d contact him for help once Eric told you the truth. Denny is getting together a new identity for you. New background. He’s going to raise you a year in age so you can find a job.”

I don’t even get to finish high school. I don’t even get the option of Harvard or a state school or junior college or even something online. “You’re going to make me disappear again? Like me...like Abby never existed?”

Dad nods, not seeing how he’s taken a knife and has gutted me open. Yes, I hated the Abby I was becoming, but at times, I like the girl she was and I was in love with the girl she was going to be. Tears prick my eyes as I already mourn her and then turn my head to avoid a dry heave at the thought that no one will care if and when I disappear again.

“What about Grams?”

“She’s dying.” He says it as if she’s already dead. As if he’s already grieved for her and his loss is already years removed. He says it with as much emotion as when he discussed me becoming somebody new. “I’ve heard she no longer has much of an idea of who she is or where she’s at. Mac will put her in a nursing home, and he’ll try to find a good one.”

My head falls back, and I rub my hands over my eyes and this anger, this fear, this utter and complete sadness causes me to want to weep, but I have to choke down the burn in my throat. “I promised to take care of her.”

Dad does something rare. He reaches across the table and takes my hand. “You did and now it’s time to take care of yourself.”

“I could always be running,” I say.

“But it’s better than dead.” He pauses. “I may not have always done right by you. Given you the type of home you should have had. But I gave you what I had.”

When Dad goes to pull back, I grasp his hand. Needing his love. Needing his comfort. I think of that picture, the one he always carried on his phone. Of me covered in dirt, barely clothed, barely fed and wonder how, when he met me, he could feel anything other than disgust.

“You shouldn’t have taken me in,” I say, and all the guilt I’ve shoved down to the deepest and darkest parts of me surfaces and it’s the equivalent of being pummeled by an avalanche of boulders. “You wouldn’t be in here if it wasn’t for me.”

My father killed a man because of me.

Dad squeezes my hand then lets go. This time, I have to let him leave. “He threatened you and he would have hurt you, too, just to hurt me. I broke my own rule on caring and it backfired.”

Backfired because love isn’t allowed in hell and I don’t want to live in hell anymore.

“Why did you do it?” I ask, knowing if I don’t ask now I may never receive an answer. “Why did you take me in?” Even when you knew I wasn’t your child.