CATERINA


    I hate walking into situations without knowing what to expect. After Ken called me, at least ten different scenarios were running rampant in my mind. The entire drive to the station, I white–knuckled the steering wheel, praying it wasn’t as bad as my imagination was making it out to me.


    Please, don’t let this be too bad. Please. I can’t shake the mental image of overturned desks and bullet holes in the walls from my head. He wouldn’t gopletely off the rails like that… would he? I wish I was confident enough to believe my own thoughts, but I’m not. My father is determined to get, to the bottom of this and has nothing left to lose.


    I climb the stairs leading up to the enormous ss doors, my heart pounding into my throat. At least the ss is intact, so I’ll take that as a good sign.


    The air is thick and heavy as soon as I step inside. Right away, the cop behind the desk cuts me off, “Excuse me, Miss, do you have an appointment.” I halt in my tracks and scan the station for Ken.


    Across the room, Ken spots me from the back corner, near his office. “Let her through, Tim.” With a reluctant shake of his head. Tim steps out of the way and I walk around him. I sigh and swallow around the knot that’s forming in my throat. Okay. Everything looks like it’s in one piece. No desks overturned, and no bullet holes. Things already appear better than I thought they would be. Snickers and whispers resound from across the room. Don’t they have anything better to do than sit here and gossip? All I can think is: Which one of you screwed him over?


    My teeth bite into my tongue. I know better than tosh out with words. It won’t change their opinion, anyway. They could be watching me right now, knowing what they’ve done. A couple of in–clothed officers–detectives maybe, I don’t know- mutter to each other while following my progress.


    Ken waves me over to him while his gaze sweeps from me to his office and back again. “I managed to convince him to quiet down,” he mutters out of the corner of his mouth. “Told him it was either that or I’d have to throw him down in a holding cell.”


    He grimaces like the thought makes him ufortable. I guess that would be rock bottom; to end up where you’ve ced so many people before.


    Through the office door windows, I can see half of my father sitting in the chair behind Ken’s desk, his hands behind his back* You restrained him?” I whisper, horrified.


    “I didn’t want to, but I was running out of options,” he says while throwing a bitter look toward the door. “It was the only way I could ensure he wouldn’t try to log into thework from myputer.”


    “That makes sense.” Even if I hate it, I can tell he does, too. This can’t be easy for him after all the time they’ve known each


    other.


    Still, before I can set foot in that room, I need to know what I’m up against, “What happened?”


    Ken blows out a sigh, shaking his head. “Came into the station ranting and raving. Throwing usations around, velling like a crazy person about blood–money and murderers. When they tried to apprehend him, he swung at a couple of the guys. Luckily ! was here and was able to step in and take over.”


    “Which guys?” I scan the room, except what am I hoping to find? A few ck eyes, perhaps. It’s wrong, though a big part of me hopes he got to hit at least one of them. Even if it’s awful for my father to behave this way, tosh out and act irrationally. Someone in this station helped cover up my mother’s murder.


    “None of that matters. I called you because <b>I </b>need you to calm him down and get him home before this esctes any further. Do you think you can get through to him?”


    Goddamnit, Dad. All I can do is shake my head. “I don’t have a choice, do I?” And that, I think, is what sucks most of all about this. I don’t have a choice<b>. </b>I can’t remember thest time I did. It’s either help or allow them to throw him in a cell.


    I feel like a mother getting ready to scold her misbehaving son. Still, after everything he’s put me throughtely, I can’t seem to push away my remorse for him. I’m just one more person telling him he’s mistaken, and he’s heard so much of that already.


    79


    &


    This is not the ce, however. There are too many eyes here. I don’t want to buy into all of his theories and go down the rabbit hole with him, but I can’t pretend there isn’t uncertainty in my gut that gets bigger the longer I stand here. There’s an energy of resentment that coats the air like heavy smoke.


    I want to help. I don’t want to encourage these people. The muscles in my stomach are tightening. I’m walking a tightrope as I open the door, then pull the blinds over the window. Ken will understand my need for privacy.


    “Christ.” My father’s eyes flutter closed, his head falling back as soon as he realizes it’s me. “I don’t know what I expected, although it definitely wasn’t you.”


    My resolve breaks at the sight of him and the sound of his frustration. Everything I was thinking of saying, all the measured calm words, they’re nothing but an afterthought. “Nice to see you too, but it doesn’t appear like you’re having that great of a time.” I pause, walking around the desk to be right in front of him “What did you think you would aplish by showing up here?”


    It’s like we’re on some twisted crime show, only he’s sitting on the wrong side of the desk and he’s restrained, like the criminal. “Isn’t it bad enough that you lost your job? Now you show back up and start spouting off shit and making a scene?”


    His eyes fly open. “You know?”


    “Yes, I’ve known for days.” Maybe I shouldn’t have said it that way, nheless at least it’s out. “And I don’t care if you’re upset. I was worried about you and needed answers. Little did I know there is much more that I need to worry about.”


    He only sighs. “I don’t need to be lectured.”


    Funny. I expected him to be this blubbering, slurring mess, but he’s as straight and sober as I can remember ever seeing him. There are dark circles under his eyes, but the eyes themselves aren’t bloodshot. They’re clear, focused. He even shaved today. He still looks unhealthy–he’s lost weight, his skin is ashen, and his clothes are starting to bag on him. Thankfully, he’s sober. However, more than anything… he’s tired and at his wit’s end.


    My heart hurts for him. That’s what leaves a tremble in my voice. “Dad. I know… I know you’re trying to do everything you can to bring justice to Mom, but this has to stop.”


    “How?” There’s as much pain in his voice as in mine. “How do I stop myself? Because trust me, baby, I would love for this to end. I just… I need somebody to tell me how to ovee it, since I can’t do it. I can’t. I know your mom would want me to. Only can’t. Every time I consider letting it go, this voice at the back of my head reminds me that someone is getting away with all of


    this.”


    “There are other ways to do this. Buting here? using people?”


    “I had to shake them up somehow.”


    2


    I can’t believe I’m about to say this. But to say anything else would be disingenuous and might do more harm than good. It’s challenging to go against what good sense tells me I should do.


    I’ve been heeding to good sense for too long, anyway. And look where it got me.


    “Listen to me,” I whisper. “If you honestly think somebody here covered up what happened to Mom, do you think the best thing to do is put the attention on yourself? To make a scene? Now more people are going to be asking questions.”


    “No,” he scoffs. “They’ll dismiss it and call me a joke. Like they have been for forever.”


    “I understand, though I need you to think with your head and not your heart. For your own safety.”


    His gaze tone turns usingly, “You’re not going to tell me I’m out of my mind?”


    “I can’t possibly tell you that you’re crazy, not even if it feels that way. You’re entitled to feel how you want to feel. All I have to say is if what you’re saying is true, then you need to be careful. Not draw attention or make a scene. I want to help you however I can.”


    “I wish I could believe that,” he murmurs before sighing in that ‘disappointed dad‘ way. “There’s no point in lying, Caterina. We both know that’s not true.”


    79


    +25 <b>BONUS </b>


    “What do you mean?” I ask, confused.


    <b>“</b>Don’t we?”


    “You’re going to have to stop speaking in riddles.”


    “I know. I know about everything.”


    Like a guilty child, immediately, my thoughts go to the baby as gut threatens to consume me. I grip the edge of the desk to bnce myself while my knees threaten to crumble beneath me. What? How could you know about that?”


    His eyebrows shoot up so far, so fast, they look like they want to leave his head. “He didn’t tell you? I thought for sure that was why you didn’te home.”


    Straightaway I know we’re talking about two different things. Now I’m more puzzled than ever. “If you’re referring to Gianni, he told me nothing. I have no idea what you’re talking about.“”


    “Huh. I wonder why…” He shrugs like it doesn’t matter anyway. “Your old man made a fool of himself, again. I was certain the asshole would tell you right away. Surely he’d never miss the opportunity to make me look like an idiot.”


    “What did you do?” I whisper over my growing horror.


    “I just want to know why? That’s all I want to know. Of all the men in the world, why did it have to be him that you chose?” “He… told you?” Shock ripples through me as I drop into the chair behind me.


    “It was a mistake. I’m not proud of myself for going to his house.” He looks down at hisp, his jaw twitching. “I wasn’t thinking.


    “>


    “No. Tell me you didn’t.” This gets


    Horse


    by the second.


    “I did. And I’m sure it’s <i>a </i>house you’re very familiar with by now.” Not missing the subtle hits he’s making. He meets my gaze from beneath his lowered brow. “More familiar than ever.”


    Guilt wells up in my chest before I realize what’s happening. I should’ve known he would turn this around, but how could I have known he knew? The truth is I had no way of knowing, not unless Gianni… he should have warned me. Damnit.


    Instead of copsing under shame, I force myself to steadily meet his gaze. “We are not doing this,” I hiss through my teeth. ” You’re not turning this around on me, making me feel guilty. I could easily walk out of here and let Ken throw you into a holding cell the way he would have done if he didn’t care about you so much.”


    Folding my arms across my chest, I can’t help but smirk. “So, what’s it going to be? We can talk about things, but you will not shame me. I’m an adult, and I’m tired of being treated like a child by you.”


    “Tell me why. Why him?”