Sweet Liar (Candy #2)(8)

“Who do you work for?” I wouldn’t give him the forgiveness he wanted, and wondered if Jonah would answer the question my father never would.

Hope dimmed in his eyes, and I realized I was still a fool because his disappointment made me feel guilty. After what he’d done to me, I shouldn’t feel bad for hurting his feelings.

When Jonah didn’t respond, I pressed him. “I asked my father if he worked for some kind of black ops group, and he laughed at me. He claims that he doesn’t work for the government, and I have no idea who you all work for.”

Jonah’s lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to confirm what he already said, that we aren’t employed by the government in any official way. But sometimes we work on their behalf, or at least that’s the assumption. We do things they want no part of, providing services that can’t be traced back to them in any way.”

“Isn’t that what black ops is?”

“We’re blacker than black ops. You could call us Vantablack. Do you know what that is?”

I shook my head.

“It’s the world’s darkest material, the blackest substance known to man. When you look at it, it’s like staring straight into a black hole.”

His eyes lit with excitement, and I could tell he thought his organization was cool and that he was hot shit because he was in it. His face even became more animated as he described it, like a little boy talking about his favorite superhero.

“You know you’re a dork, right?”

Jonah grinned like he couldn’t care less.

“So, Vantablack. Is that like an official name?” I wasn’t able to keep the sarcasm from my voice. Once upon a time I’d thought my father’s job was cool too, but that was quickly changing, and those responsible were rooting through my house right now.

“We have no official name. There’s no company logo on my paychecks, no business cards, no offices to speak of. We just are.”

I nearly laughed. “You just are. Great. So when I hire a lawyer to help my dad, is that what I tell him?”

His expression sobered. “You can’t hire a lawyer, Candy.”

“Then how is he supposed to defend himself?”

Jonah opened his mouth to speak, but paused when we both heard another voice.

“He can’t. He has no defense for what he did.”

Jonah’s father was standing in the doorway leading inside from the garage. I’d never even heard it open. There was no sign of Pumpkin, who had probably dashed back into the house.

“But you might be able to help your father,” Victor said with his dark eyes trained on me.

Jonah stood and brushed off his hands.

“Come inside,” his father said before he turned away, assuming we’d follow.

“What does he mean? How can I help?” I asked as I pushed up from the chair. My head hurt less now, but the pain in my hip still made me groan inside.

Jonah didn’t seem to notice how slowly I moved. He looked distracted and tense. “Some of your questions are about to get answered. Come on.”

He gestured for me to lead the way, and my stomach flipped as I moved, knowing I was about to have the promised talk with Jonah’s father.

As if sensing how tightly wound I was, Jonah placed his hand on my lower back, wordlessly telling me I wasn’t alone. It helped, even though I knew I shouldn’t let it.

I couldn’t give in and lean on Jonah. No matter how much I might want to, I couldn’t trust him not to throw me to the wolves, or at least to his father.

***





The house wasn’t completely trashed, but from what I could see, it was trashed enough. Kitchen drawers stood open, and pots and pans were scattered across the floor. I glanced down the hallway to see some clothing spilling out of doorways. When I paused, staring at the upheaval, Jonah whispered “come on” by my ear and urged me to keep moving.

We found Jonah’s father sitting alone on the couch in the living room when we entered.

“We didn’t find anything, but that wasn’t much of a surprise. Sit down,” he added as if this were his house and he was hosting a party.

Stiffly, I lowered myself into the chair across from him. Jonah sat in the other chair, rather than sharing the couch with his father.

Victor scowled as he tossed something at Jonah, who caught it easily. I realized it was Jonah’s wallet that had obviously been found inside our house. Victor’s displeased expression made me wonder if Jonah had gotten into trouble because I’d taken it.

While Jonah looked through it, his father sat forward, and the scowl became a wince as he favored his side, the one I’d grazed with a bullet. But the wince transformed into an odd smile as he turned to me. It was a grin that didn’t reach his eyes, and looked as if it was physically hurting his face. His long hair was tucked behind his ears, and the smell of cigarette smoke wafted off him.

“I’m Victor Severance, Jonah’s father, as you know. You can call me Victor.”

I’d rather call him *.

Jonah was right. It seemed his father wasn’t going to bring up the fact that I’d shot him, apparently because Jonah had explained it away as his fault.

As I looked at Victor, I turned his name over in my head. Severance. That was the last name I’d seen on Jonah’s license, not Bryson as he’d told me and everyone else, but his real name, the one I’d found inside the wallet he was now slipping into his pocket. I wondered about the name’s origin because Victor’s coloring was dark, and if I had to guess, I’d say he looked Greek. But I didn’t think Severance was a Greek name.