Raw Redemption (Crossing the Line #4)(55)

“Welcome back, daughter,” Caine said. “Have a nice vacation?”

Her hazel eyes fired bullets at O’Kelly. “Yes, I did. When I wasn’t being kidnapped, anyway.”

“Oh, come on now.” He tilted his head. “What’s a little kidnapping among family?”

Ailish went white as a sheet. Whatever was going on—whatever Derek had gotten them into to further his cause in bringing down O’Kelly—Ailish wasn’t acting. That much was clear. She was genuinely distraught over being addressed with such open hostility by her father. Did that mean his behavior was unusual? The few times Henrik had allowed himself to imagine their father-daughter relationship, he’d pictured quiet resentment from both sides, but maybe he’d been wrong. And he’d been so worried about his own reaction, he hadn’t asked Ailish about it when he’d had the chance.

“Why couldn’t you just let me go?” Ailish asked her father, her soft words carrying on the wind to pummel Henrik in the chest. “Why?”

Ailish jolted under her father’s hold. Too tight. Too tight. He’s hurting her. Henrik felt the other men scrutinizing him and schooled his features with a considerable effort. “I might have let you go, daughter, if I hadn’t gone through the books and found out you’ve been screwing me seven ways to Sunday.”

When Ailish cried out in pain, Henrik took a step forward—and the guns lifted again. That was the fist time Ailish met his gaze. The disgust he encountered there made him feel like a wounded animal brought down by a hunter. But there was something else. Something that glinted from its position against her throat.

She was wearing the necklace he’d given her.

...

Something was wrong. Ailish had known it the moment her father opened the trunk. His eyes were glassy in a way she hadn’t seen since her mother still lived in the house. Drugs. He was using again. And for the first time—through the eyes of an adult—she wondered what had prompted him to stop the first time. More importantly, why was he back at it?

In addition to Caine’s twitchy behavior, he was…livid. Disgusted. With her. She’d expected serious animosity from her father, being that she’d taken a heap of money and run away. She’d expected even more intense lockdown than usual. But there was a glint in his eye that had nothing to do with the drugs, and he’d never manhandled Ailish in her entire life. Never. Something was most definitely wrong.

It had taken Henrik a good few minutes to get his bearings after she’d made her appearance, but he was on his game now. Arms folded across his broad chest, he looked just as irritated as everyone else that she’d crashed the party. It only made her want to kiss his face, his mouth, his neck all the more. Then she wanted to smack him good. Pretty much how she’d always felt looking at him before, except now she knew he’d thrown his career away, all for her. A total stranger. So the simultaneous kissing and smacking felt like necessity now, instead of a mere urge. No telling which would happen the first time she got him alone.

One thing was for certain, though. She would have an explanation. A satisfying one that didn’t skirt a single truth, the way their dealings had been up until now. The cards were on the table, they were undercover together with the same goal, and she wanted to know Henrik’s mind. Every complicated corner.

First, though, they had Caine to deal with. Evidence to collect and an exit to plot. She might not even have a chance to be alone with Henrik until they were free of the house, which would require Ailish to be on her toes. To look for cues from Henrik and be ready to go at any time.

“Let’s head to my office, shall we?” her father said, already turning Ailish with a firm hand on her shoulder. “I’d rather have this reunion without an audience.”

Having a hard time maintaining her balance with both hands bound, Ailish stumbled on the brick steps. “Can someone untie my hands first?”

Over her shoulder, Ailish watched Caine produce a pocketknife from his pants, flip it over in his hand, and slide it beneath the cable tie keeping her wrists locked together. Father and daughter met eyes as he twisted the knife, snapping the plastic tie—but cutting into her skin at the same time. Ailish sucked in a breath and kept walking, her heart chugging like a freight train inside her chest. Without even looking at Henrik, she could feel his rage gathering, a storm waiting to break. Oh God, what was happening? She’d assured Derek that her father would be irritated, would place her under constant watch, but would never physically harm her.

Obviously, she’d been wrong. There was only one reason she could fathom that would put her father in this extreme a rage. And if that were the case, they were in far bigger trouble than she’d anticipated.

Ailish’s hands were free, but still asleep, so they dangled uselessly at her sides, making her feel helpless as she led the way toward her father’s office. His men, including Henrik, had followed them into the familiar, dimly lit foyer. Ailish vibrated with the need to turn around, lock eyes with Henrik, but she couldn’t. Couldn’t glean comfort from him or warn him that something was off. She would have to face Caine alone for now. Although the man matching her stride down the hallway was noticeably different from the Caine in her memory.

Just before they reached the office door, her father stopped short. “Mr. Vance, come on in and join us?”

Ailish was thankful no one could see her face, because there was no way to hide the relief. She almost sank down into the carpet with it. Just having him close would be enough to keep her calm, keep her focused. Caine reached over her shoulder and pushed open the office door, giving Ailish a nudge between the shoulder blades to make her move. Her father was determined to express how little regard he had for her comfort, and she knew without a doubt what was coming.