Page 82 of Never Say Never

"Enough!" I snapped. "Everyone be quiet."

Her trembling bottom lip snapped me back to reality. I let the wildness bleed from me as I became who she needed, who they both needed. That was all that really mattered. It was my fault this was happening. I had decided to go after these demons, and to fuck a Vitale on top of that. Their fear and distress were because of me.

I was a horrible fucking father.

"It's okay," Paul said softly as he glanced back at them. "We're almost there, and guess what? I'll be right there with you guys, okay? I know this is scary, but it's going to be all right. Remember how your daddy fights bad guys?"

They nodded.

"Well, those bad guys want to hurt him, so we have to keep him safe. Can you two do that with me? Can you be brave and protect your daddy with me?"

"Yes," Navy answered with Nyra nodding along.

"Thank you," Paul said, sighing with relief. "Everything will be fine, you have my word."

His blue eyes flickered my way, and I started staring at him all over again. Who was this man? He said all the right things, he looked as if he actually gave a damn, and yet I knew what he was. A Vitale. Trash. A criminal who didn't give a damn about who he hurt or who he killed. Had he killed? My mind wouldn't stop racing. How many things had gone wrong with raids, investigations... informants?

It was as if someone had pulled the curtains back and my rational brain was working again. My eyes were open and I could see. I had questions, ones that couldn't be answered in this car with tiny ears. But they burned a hole in my mind.

"York, I swear to god," Paul whispered.

"Something like you believes in god?"

Paul winced. "I just saved your life."

"I would rather you let me die. At least I wouldn't feel... this."

If I had gone to an early grave, I wouldn't have to face the fact that despite all of my anger and fear, was another emotion that was ripping me into tiny little shreds. Betrayal. Paul had ripped my heart from my chest, showed it to me, and then stomped on it with fucking glee. He'd made me believe I was crazy. Had made me think he had feelings and emotions like a normal person and I was in the wrong for ever questioning his loyalty. Now, I could see I'd been gaslit and manipulated into oblivion.

For years, I'd just wanted to feel something. To know what it was like to truly be in love. Now? I never wanted to feel anything ever again. If I came out the other side of this, I would dedicate myself to work, my daughters, and an existence that was quiet, but filled with the knowledge that no one would ever make me feel like this again.

"Where are we going?" I asked again. "Sure it's safe? Or is that a trap?"

Paul’s eyes flashed to me, full of hurt and wet with tears. His eyes were wide as if he couldn't believe I would ever ask something like that. When he turned back to the road, his lips parted, but no words came out. That wasn't exactly reassuring to me. Right now, he could be driving us all to our deaths. It made sense, right? What other way to clean up an entire mess and move on to greener pastures than to get rid of us all in one fell swoop? Maybe he was being a good little soldier and these had been his instructions all along. Was every touch a lie? Every word a manipulation? Every moan a knife stabbed into my chest?

"Please, York," he whispered. "Don't do this."

"Do what?" I snapped.

I shut my mouth when I noticed the girl's distress. They kept glancing between me and Paul. Even though they were young, they were intelligent. They knew something was wrong. I had to push it down, act like I hadn’t been manipulated and gaslit into this while Paul was able to be hurt. And I was not allowed to be livid.

"Girls, where are your phones?" I asked.

"Paul made us leave them," Navy whispered.

"Shelly?"

"Same thing," she muttered. "I'm sorry, Mr. Washington. I thought it was what you wanted."

"It's fine," I said.

We rode in silence as I stared straight ahead, but I kept every muscle in my body wound tight. If Paul tried anything, I was ready to send him to an early grave. Between him and my daughters, they would always win out. They were more important to me than my own life.

The girls stood just inside of the lobby of the highrise that Paul brought us to. I had to keep an eye on them and told Shelly just that. She stayed with them, talking to them. Whatever she was saying seemed to soothe them, and they were clinging to her. Paul and I sat in the car uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry, York."

"Cut the shit," I snapped. "What the fuck is going on?"