The door had opened and a uniformed officer stood there. “There’s someone here, asking to speak with the chief.”
Frowning, Chantel shook her head. “I don’t think he’s in...”
“I think you’ll want to see this visitor,” the young female officer in the doorway said. “He says his name is Chief Brian O’Connor, from North Carolina. He showed his credentials and said he’s here to talk to someone about his daughter.”
Tad’s hand covered Miranda’s on top of the table.
She pulled herself free.
Chapter 27
Chantel offered to speak to Miranda’s father alone. Miranda shook her head. She couldn’t afford to play the victim. She had a son to save. Facing her opponent was the first step in doing that. She had to know exactly what she was up against. He’d taught her that.
“Do you want Tad to join us?” Chantel asked.
She didn’t. Wouldn’t even look in his direction. But... “Yes,” she said. Because she had to see for herself that the two men knew each other. Wanted to hear what they had to say to each other. Masochistic, in a way, and yet she needed the information to take with her into the future. She was going to have to make peace with all of this.
Including the fact that she’d given her trust, her body, even her closed-off heart, to a man in her father’s employ.
Tad followed them down the hall, slightly behind Miranda. She felt his hand slide to the small of her back and sidestepped. She wouldn’t fall for him again.
Wouldn’t be wooed by the false sense of peace and future he’d brought to her world.
She couldn’t afford to be weak.
Pausing outside a closed door to a room with no visible windows, Chantel turned to her. “You ready?”
Of course not. She was about to see her father—a man she’d promised herself she’d never have to see again.
A man she still loved. A man she feared even more.
She nodded.
“Dana! Baby! Oh my God, it’s good to see you.”
Chief Brian O’Connor didn’t seem to age. His hair was still as dark as hers, although he was approaching his fifty-fifth birthday. His eyes as blue. Standing up from his chair at a conference table, he reached out to her with both arms, but didn’t approach.
She followed Chantel to the other side of the table, taking one of the four seats there, as far from the chair her father occupied on the other side as she could. Tad took a seat at the end. Closest to Miranda.
Playing both ends against the middle?
That was fitting.
Chantel landed right next to Miranda.
Maybe they were protecting her by sitting on either side. Maybe she liked the feeling.
Maybe she didn’t need it.
Brian moved closer, taking the seat across from her. They were doing what they’d always done. Communicating with every move, every look, as much as with the words that weren’t being said.
He was cat to her mouse.
She could choose her chair, he’d stand back and allow it. And then he’d move in. If she’d been a good girl, a smart girl to his way of thinking, she would’ve immediately made the right choice, the obvious choice—planting her butt in the seat across from him.
Or next to him, depending on how he wanted this to play out.
Trouble was, she had no idea what he was up to. Other than the ultimate win of getting Ethan to his home in North Carolina.