“There’s a hunting cabin that I own in North Carolina I want you to take Malia to,” I hear The Omen say.
My eyebrows pinch together, wondering what he’s talking about. My head is now reeling from remembering I killed that man, trying to get a grasp on what kind of man that makes me now. Whatever he’s going on about right now, it’s hard for me to focus.
Did I take someone’s dad away from them? The countering thought follows; he could have taken Malia away from me. Then back to the start line of wondering if that would be so horrible and round and round with the pros and cons, never coming to any sense and fucking with my head even more.
I run my hand down my face. “What?”
My eyes focus on The Omen who stares back with a raised eyebrow and slight annoyance. I thought someone said he was patient, but I can’t be bothered to worry about if I’m irritating this man or not.
Fuck him.
“Listen to me, Liam,” he demands. My attention is immediately on him, the easy submission pissing me off. “I won’t go into detail, but my wife escaped, and it is paramount in everything going on. What I know is there are two people out there that want my fucking daughter!” His hand slams on his desk and I narrow in on his sudden outburst. Running his hand through his dark curls, he sighs and stands. “You need to figure out your shit because either of you could be targets and I need you both to leave until I get this under control.”
I snort. “And you think your precious princess will run away into the sunset with me?”
The Omen pulls back his top lip, like he’s refraining from putting his own bullet in me.
“Think of it as a way for the two of you to figure out where you go from here. Now that you know the truth of your past and who Malia is.” He rounds the desk leaning against it, then crosses his arms and ankles.
He’s tense and fidgeting.
“You haven’t told me everything, Omen,” I say with a shrug. Which is the truth. He wants me to look at him and think he’s the only thing I have left and put all my trust into his word.
I’ve known The Omen longer as my enemy than not. I won’t fold to the thought of running away with his daughter and I don’t appreciate him trying to manipulate my fucked-up feelings.
“No, I guess I haven’t,” he admits with a dip of his chin. “Call me Nate, please. Usually, people who fear me call me by my moniker.”
I laugh humorlessly. “No.”
“To which part?”
I smile. “All of the above.”
The Omen hums and rubs his chin, staring at me. The tension in his jaw tells me he’s trying to hold back his temper.
Then he catches me off guard.
“Do you love her?” he asks me, now staring at the ground still stroking the stubble on his face in thought.
“I loved Mila,” I respond honestly. “I don’t know who Malia is.”
He gives me a tight smile, all tension leaving his face. “You saw her flay a man’s face last night and put a bullet in his head for threatening her. If Malia’s taught me anything since being her father, it’s that actions and words are not the same. So, I’ll ask you again. Do you love her?”
I can deny it all I want, but he has a point. Silva spoke against my mother but as cruel as it sounds, I don’t know her. I’ve buried the memories of my parents to numb the pain that came with it. I did kill him because he threatened to take Malia away.
I do love Malia, but I don’t have to tell him anything. Especially when I haven’t told her.
“The lines blurred a long time ago,” I admit. “To love her is to lose myself to the darkness and corruption. To hate her is to blind myself with light and lies.”
The Omen watches me before speaking. “Then ask yourself, Liam.” He tilts his head. “Is it the darkness or light that you shy away from? Are you truly losing yourself fading into the gray with Malia, or are you becoming the man you were meant to be?”
That’s not a question I know how to answer. It’s the same ones I’ve been asking myself over and over again, only verbalized. Or maybe I do know and am just too much of pussy to admit it.
I’ve been using her mission as a grudge to hold on to just to make me feel better about myself. Using her dad’s actions to fuel my ire and directing it toward her. When in reality I killed a man for her without a second thought. Twice he threatened her life and that was two too many times. The first time he nearly did kill her. I know that Malia is hurt worse than she’s letting on from the bombing.
“What makes you think she would want me?” I rasp, hating how defeated I sound and feel.
The Omen pushes off his desk and walks over to his floor-to-ceiling windows, only just now noticing he’s in the same clothes as yesterday.