Sweet Liar (Candy #2)(82)

My father had been right all along. I wasn’t like him, not in this way, and I never could be.

A loud pop sounded and Victor’s head jerked back. A second later, he slumped to the floor at Jonah’s feet.

Breathing hard, covered in blood, Jonah rested a hand against the wall to help him stay upright as he stared down at his father. Then slowly, he looked up at us in shock.

“It’s going to be okay,” my father said quietly in a soft voice meant only for me.

Without another thought, I went to Jonah. My heart ached for him, but not for the fate of his father, and I was sure Jonah knew it. Even so, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to him.

Jonah had freed my father but lost his own in the process. Once that fact sank in, I wondered how he’d feel about it, about me. The thought that he might hate me for it was terrifying because I knew I loved him now. I loved him so much it hurt.





Someone had heard my screams and called the police, although they arrived long after the danger was over. We all looked at each other when we heard sirens outside, but my father was quick to advise us.

He saw no need to cover up what happened. He put the gun down on the side table and asked Jonah for his phone, since he didn’t have one of his own. Then he placed a call to someone and told them where he was and what he’d done.

The police already had my father in handcuffs when the men from the organization arrived, the ones my father must have called. They both wore dark clothing and serious expressions. The men hardly spared us a glance as they spoke to the local officers, who went outside to confer. After a few moments, the police came back in wearing annoyed expressions, looking completely put out as they uncuffed my father and left.

“You need to go to the hospital, Candy,” my father said. “I’ll have one of these men take you.”

“Jonah’s hurt too.”

“They have to talk to him first.”

I eyed him stubbornly. “I’m not going anywhere without Jonah.”

My father tried to persuade me again, but I wouldn’t budge. Adrenaline had masked the pain, keeping it to a dull roar.

The two organization men, one with a beard and the other with thinning red hair, took Jonah and me to separate rooms to speak to us. Before that, Jonah had just stood there looking dazed, in a world of his own. I wanted to tell the men that talking could wait, that Jonah wasn’t up to it now, but my father thought it was best for him to cooperate.

The red-haired man only asked me what happened tonight, nothing else about my father or the accusations against him, and I started at the point where Drew drugged me and brought me here. I ended with my father shooting Victor because my father asked me to tell the truth and I trusted him. Nothing I said surprised or fazed the organization man.

By the time I finished and returned to the living room, Victor’s body was gone and the blood had been cleaned off the floor. Jonah was still being interviewed when I joined my father. Now that I had a chance to really look at him, I noticed how weary and thin he was.

“How did it go?” he asked, still waiting to have his interview.

“I don’t know. He didn’t say much. How is it that you’re here?” I asked, figuring Jonah probably had just enough time to go back and forth to where they were keeping my father. Why hadn’t he told me that he was going to get him?

“I’m not sure. My door opened and someone told me I was free to leave. A moment later Jonah was standing there, waiting to take me home.” He smiled. “You’ve been busy, little one.”

“Not just me. It was mostly Jonah and his friend Heather.” I realized I didn’t even know Heather’s last name. “Her parents are the ones who got you released. I guess they’re supposed to be important or something.”

Amusement sparked in his eyes. “Yes, they are important or something. It’s good to have friends in high places, or a daughter who does.”

“I met Lorraine,” I said after a moment. “I wish you’d told me about her.”

He tilted his head. “How would you have felt?”

“Happy for you.” At his speculative look, I glanced down at my feet. “Eventually, I would have been happy for you. She seems nice.”

He rested his hand on my shoulder. “She is, and I’m sure she was glad to see her son again.”

“She was. He’s taking a little more time to warm up to her, though. I think he feels guilty that he didn’t know what was happening to her. He thinks he could have helped if he’d known.”

“He’s wrong. He was just a kid.”

Like I was, I thought, when my mother was sick and my father was trying desperately to save her. “What you did for Mom,” I whispered so the organization men wouldn’t hear me. “What you sacrificed . . .”

Shaking his head, he glanced at the man by the door, the one standing closest to us.

“I just want you to know that I never believed what they told me about you. I figured if it was true, you must have had a good reason.”

He smiled sadly. “You still have so much faith in me, Candy. I wish I was worthy of it.” His gaze traveled over me, taking in the cuts on my face and hands, and the place on my leg that was crusted with blood.

“You can’t wait any longer for Jonah to be finished. You need medical attention.” He looked at the man standing by the door. “My daughter needs a doctor.”