The last day we woke up at my mom's, Kade was already awake. I was too out of it to know if he groped me in his sleep again.
It was odd but so much fun to have him with my family. He fit in so well, even through he stood out so profoundly. My mother did everything she could to build me up in front of him. I'm sure it drove him absolutely crazy, but he never said anything.
I once thought him not to have any manners at all, but I've learned he's secretly a saint with a devilish exterior. He listened to her, let her rave about me, and then he'd glance my way and give me a wink. I think he enjoyed the fact she was humiliating me.
On our drive home, we stopped at random places and he bought me a few souvenirs to remember our road trip together. I wouldn't have forgotten it even without the mementos. Kade has become more to me than I ever thought possible. Now I just have to figure out a way to tell him without ruining our friendship. I couldn't bear to push him out of my life by trying to press for more.
Once I've met inspection, the prison guard lets me slip through to the visitor section. Since I was twelve and had to watch my father being hauled away by men in black suits, I've had to come here.
As always, his award-winning smile is bright enough to outshine the orange jumpsuit. I'm sure he could still charm the hell out of someone in that orange disaster. Most of the women in town openly swooned over him for years before he was locked up by the FBI. Now they swoon in private, as though he's a guilty pleasure.
A white-collar criminal who conned millions of dollars out of people was caught because he fell in love and stayed in one place for too long. It's hard to be a con with a steady home life. Eventually, you leave a trail.
"Hello, pretty girl," he coos as he sits down in front of me.
Physical contact is prohibited, especially with him. They're afraid his daughter is just as clever and crafty as he is, and they expect me to pass him something he could easily find a way to hide from them. All of his visits are heavily monitored to ensure no one is that clever.
"Hey, Daddy," I murmur with a smile. "How much longer?"
He manages to look in-control and debonair, despite his prison attire. It's no wonder he was able to con so many.
"I'll be getting out of here soon. Have you been getting my checks?" he asks as he sits down in front of me.
I always hate this conversation.
"I have, but... I didn't cash them."
He groans while gripping his head. "You tore them up... again, didn't you?"
Since I turned eighteen, I've been getting checks for two-thousand dollars from him. I always tear them to pieces. I don't know why he keeps sending them.
My silence answers the question for me.
"Raya, I've told you over and over; that money isn't bad. I've earned that. I've been consulting with banks and other businesses since I was recruited as a CI for the FBI. I've even created new security protocols for them. It's a lucrative business. They took every cent I conned from people when I was convicted. It's clean, Raya. Believe me. I'm getting out after barely serving six years because I've been so damn good. I just cracked a case that has been baffling the New York White-Collar division for years. It's clean money."
He's only getting out of here because they couldn't convict him on more than one solid charge. One mistake took my father from me. Though he still lost all the money he had - supposedly - they couldn't link it to anywhere. My mother wouldn't have touched it even if they'd let her keep it.
Ray Drivel is a con. He can make you believe the sky is actually the ground with just a couple of words. He's that good. He knows ten languages, can fake any accent with ease, and can bend your mind to his will if you're not careful. There's no way he's convincing me that money is clean.
"Let's move on. I brought the cards. What are we playing today?" I ask while pulling the deck from my purse.
As I start to shuffle, he answers, "Twenty-one."
I smirk and nod as I start dealing.
"When I get out of here, I plan to move close to your college. I was hoping you'd consider living with me."
He never stumbled while saying that, but he's good that way. I wouldn't think he's a bit nervous, except I see that fear of rejection in his eyes. I'm his weak spot. I'm the reason he was caught to begin with. Mom always says he only shows vulnerability with me.
"I'll consider it, but... I kind of really like where I'm at right now. I'd like to see... how it goes, I guess."
He grins when he sees my blushing cheeks, but then his smile falls flat as a look of horror crosses his face.
"You're living with a guy? No. How long have I been in here?"
I let a laugh out while dealing the cards. He picks his up, still frowning, letting his eyes prompt me to answer.
"Yes, I'm living with a guy, but it's platonic. I'm eighteen. A lot happens in six years."