by Tee, Marian
Thomas' furious breath hissed down the line, and the sound ripped my heart open.
"Are you fucking serious—-"
"I just want you to be the Daddy I grew up with," I whispered.
"And you can't have that if I'm not behind bars?" Thomas demanded.
"No," I sobbed out. "I can't."
"I can't fucking believe this—-"
"I love you, and I know Mom still loves you. I want you..." My voice broke. "I want you to be with Mom and me in Heaven. So please, Daddy—-"
"It's too late," Thomas bit out.
"It's never too late," I said fiercely. "And I don't care what others think or say. It's never too late, so please. Please." My fingers tightened around the old-fashioned handset of Keagan's telephone. "Please, Daddy. Do it for me. For Mom. For yourself. I want you b-back in my life—-" Another sob crawled out of my throat. "I love you, Daddy, so please—-"
"It's too fucking late," Thomas gritted out, "and it's time you accepted that."
The phone went dead.
God.
Oh God.
What was it with these men I loved...that they were just so good at killing me over and over again?
Chapter Fifteen
Dmitry and Sasha were seated at the very back of the courtroom, and even with over a dozen rows between them and the front, he knew—-
The moment he walked inside the courtroom, he had known right away.
Tahey.
Since she had never attended any of her father's hearings, her presence came completely unexpected, and for one long moment, all Dmitry was able to do was stare at her.
Tahey.
It had only been a month since he last saw her. Since that day he had walked out on her and had security throw her out. But in that one month, she had lost an alarming amount of weight, and Dmitry had to clench his fists against the urge to get up from his seat so he could take her in his arms—-
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He had tried his damnedest to forget her. Thrown himself at work. Drowned himself in alcohol. And when none of it worked, he had gotten himself personally involved in some of Strakh Inc.'s covert operations, risking his own bloody neck when he could've simply done the usual and hired mercenaries to do the job.
Sasha had called Dmitry a fool a thousand times over upon finding his older brother back in the emergency room for the third time in a week, and Sasha was also the one who had called the other members for a vote.
According to Sasha, Dmitry in his current frame of mind would jeopardize the entire operation if he was allowed to continue participating in such a manner, and the other men agreed.
The fact that he had been outvoted still rankled a bit, and while the memory had Dmitry pissed for so many days now, everything about it suddenly became insignificant. Just fucking downright shallow, when compared to what his Tahey must be going through right now—-
His lips twisted at the way his mind slipped now and then.
His Tahey.
It was insanity to still think of her in such terms. And where his honor was concerned, such thoughts were yet another form of betrayal to Paige's memory.
Her father was the man who had killed Paige.
Paige, who - after years of abuse in a prison camp ran by terrorists - had finally made her escape, only to be abducted against her will by human traffickers and sold to Thomas as a test subject for his experiments.
Paige was dead, and there was no getting her back, while Thomas...
Thomas would walk away free.
TALL. HANDSOME. Dignified. That was how they always described him, then and now. And once upon a time, when people thought of Thomas Baskerville, they thought him kind. They thought him the man who could save the world.
But it wasn't like that now.
It stopped being like that the moment his hands became red with the blood of all the innocent lives he had taken.
No one would ever think Thomas kind now...and that was as how it should be.
But he was still her dad.
And when Tahey heard him tell the judge he was guilty, and that he needed to pay for his crimes—-
Pandemonium quickly broke out. The press went wild. The judge angrily pounded his gavel. But Tahey...
She only had eyes for Thomas.
And when the older man turned to her, and their eyes met—-
Oh God.
It felt like it was the past again.
Thomas...was the Daddy she used to know.
And when the gentlest breeze blew a lock of her hair—-
She knew it was Mom letting her know...this was how it should be, and God...she didn't even think of glaring, didn't even try to keep the tears from falling.
She looked at Thomas. Tried to make her vocal chords work. But in the end, all she could do was let a smile wobble to her lips.
Thank you, Daddy.
I love you, Daddy.
And one day, we'll be with Mommy again.
EVERYTHING WAS SILENT now. They had taken Thomas away. The judge had retired to his room. Everyone else was gone, and she was all alone.
Or at least...that had how it seemed when she suddenly knew.
She couldn't explain it.
She just knew.
Tahey twisted around in her seat, just in time to see a familiar outline—-
Someone strikingly tall and powerfully built.
Bluish black hair that matched the dark fabric of his suit.
And he was walking away.
He was leaving her again.
She didn't even think. Couldn't really. Was just running on a dreadful mixture of instincts and adrenaline, pain and desperation, and most of all—-
That word she must never ever say out loud—-
Or she would shatter all over again.
"Dmitry?"
She was already on her feet , a part of her terrified that he would ignore her.
But he didn't.
She saw him still. Stiffen, like the sound of her voice blasphemed his ears, and her chest nearly caved under the force of her pain.
But then she saw him slowly turning to face her—-
And God.
Even though she was still reeling with pain, hope was also blossoming inside of her heart.
Hope that just like with Thomas, it was still not too late.
Golden eyes clashed with hers.
"What do you want?"
His voice wasn't like before.
None of the contempt that used to—-
Oh.
It occurred to her all of a sudden, with everything that had happened, it was only now she realized rather foolishly why he had seemed to hate her so much when she started working for him.
"Sasha told me you hated me because I reminded you of someone you know," Tahey heard herself blurt out. "And at that time, I thought he was talking about some ex-girlfriend you couldn't get over."
She wasn't quite sure why she thought to tell him that. Maybe she wanted to see if she could make him smile or his lip curl? Maybe she just wanted to see if she could still make him feel.
Because that was better.
Anything was better than the way he was now.
Staring at her like she was a stranger.
Talking to her like she was a stranger.
Like she had always been a stranger, and all those times she thought they were becoming closer—-
Oh God.
"Did you only take me to bed," she asked unevenly, "because you were planning to use me to hurt my dad?"
She waited for him to answer. Heart on her sleeve. Waited for him to just say sorry. To just say—-
"Goodbye, Ms. Baskerville."
She saw him turn but could no longer see him walk away.
"P-Please."
Because her tears...
"Please just...at least say, just say it meant s-something."
The tears made everything blurry and crystal clear at the same time.
And when she heard the door close softly behind the billionaire—-
/>
It was as good as hearing the door close on everything that could be...but was now over for good.
Chapter Sixteen
Dmitry no longer tried to forget her. He had come to accept that was impossible and so he forced himself to simply live with the memories of her, no matter how unbearable.
And God.
They were that.
Just goddamn unbearable.
He sold his office at the penthouse. The apartment she used to live in. The apartment he used to share with her. He had thought that by getting rid of those places, he would be free of her.
But he was wrong.
She was like a fucking ghost he couldn't exorcise. It didn't matter what he was doing. Who he was with. Didn't matter if he was in the middle of a fucking life-and-death job for Strakh Inc., and the smallest mistake could cost his life and those of his friends.
He thought he could at least learn to live with her memories and manage a semblance of a life despite it.
But he was wrong.
He kept seeing her smiles. Kept hearing her voice saying good morning. Kept imagining that if he turned around, he'd see her walking towards him—-
But she never did.
Because she was gone.
Because he had pushed her away.
He had pushed her away, and it turned out to be the biggest fucking irony.
By pushing her away, he had made sure he would never be free of her again.
DECEMBER CAME ROARING in with a rare thunderstorm, and it was on such a day that Thomas was informed by the warden of a visitor. He went out eagerly, thinking it would be his daughter again—-
But instead it was the last man on earth he expected to see.
"You."
Thomas could feel every year of his age catching up with him at the sight of the man who had hurt his daughter—-
And the only one he could blame for it, Thomas thought painfully, was himself.
Dmitry had half-expected Thomas to turn him away the moment he realized who his visitor was. But after a moment of hesitation, the older man plodded on and practically collapsed on the bench across Dmitry.
In the past, he had been unable to even let himself imagine this man's face. Had been lost in such rage and hopelessness that he knew, if he let himself keep thinking of Thomas, he just might end up with the older man's blood on his hands, and he would be a killer himself.
But now...
"Did you come here to talk about your sister?"
"No." He knew everything about Paige's last moments. Just like Tahey once said, Thomas had been a detailed journal keeper, and it had been a shallow comfort, knowing that Paige hadn't felt any kind of pain when she died.
Thomas studied the younger man with a mixture of weariness and wariness. If not his sister, then...
Ah.
His little girl had refused to tell him much about this man. Only that Dmitry had been so bitter about his sister's death that he had used Tahey to hurt Thomas. He hates me, Tahey had once said, and I can't blame him.
And at that time, Thomas had believed her.
Now, however...
"Were you surprised," Thomas asked quietly, "when you heard me admit my guilt?"
"Why did you?"
The roughness of the billionaire's voice was the first glimpse Thomas had of Dmitry Adrianov's feelings, and it gave him hope.
"I know what I've done was unforgivable, Mr. Adrianov. I am sorry for causing your sister's death, and if I could have a chance to relive my life, what my daughter has taught me...I believe it would make a difference. And I wouldn't make the same mistakes." Thomas breathed hard. "But that's the thing about life. You only get one chance in some cases, and...I...I'm sorry about your sister." The older man's voice became harsh with self-loathing and remorse. "I'm sorry for taking her away from you and your family."
Dmitry's face was ashen. For so long, so fucking long, he had wished this man's death, wished he had it in his power to destroy Thomas Baskerville—-
But now...
His eyes squeezed shut.
Tell me what to do, Paige.
Tell me how to avenge you.
Please.
But instead of his sister's voice, the words he heard were from those of her killer.
"I know I am not and will never be a good man," Thomas said rawly. "But I'm here, paying for my crimes, and I wished there was more I could do to atone for my sins, because my daughter..." The older man choked back a sob. "She told me something I still don't quite believe myself, but I'm...I'm trying. She told me it's never too late, and...I think, that's what you came here to hear. You want to know if it's not too late for you and Tahey...don't you?"
Chapter Seventeen
Although Keagan offered to hook her up with another job, Tahey wasn't ready to jump into another corporate job so soon. She had a feeling that anything resembling an office would be enough to make her cry. Instead, she politely turned down her friend's offer and accepted another friend's invitation to fly out to Wyoming.
Tahey had met Story back in her university days, and the two of them - along with A.W. and S.M. - made up the B.G. Club. On paper, it stood for Book Girls, but the real meaning behind the name was Bullied Girls. All of them - their moderator included - had been bullied at one point in their lives, and having this in common had made it easier for the girls to become fast friends.
Since then, Story had married a wealthy and devastatingly sexy sheikh who occasionally doubled as a horse instructor (long, long, long story) in the remote little town of Hartland, Wyoming.
The last time the two girls met, Story had still been pregnant. Now, however, her friend was a mother to a precocious three-year-old named Elana, and if rumors were to be believed, the cheeky little kid was her Papa's worst nightmare.
Tahey now had a job mucking stables, and although it was the very opposite of glamorous, Tahey couldn't be any more grateful. Story had tried to get her to work elsewhere, of course, but Tahey wouldn't hear of it. What mattered most to her was that this job didn't remind her of her days at Strakh Inc., and it had her actually looking forward to hours of shoveling manure out of the stalls and having fun while giving the sheikh's horses a good, long bath.
Today was the end of another productive day, and Tahey gave the beautiful white stallion an affectionate little pat. "Now that you're all sparkly, please, please try to keep yourself this way until tomorrow at least? Please?"
The Arabian proudly shook its head, and Tahey wrinkled her nose. "Are you saying you enjoy being dirty?"
She wasn't really expecting an answer, but she heard one nevertheless.
"I do."
Tahey jerked.
No.
She turned around, and the voice she had been hoping was nothing but a hallucination—-
It was real.
Because he was here.
Dmitry.
She watched him walk close and had to fight against the urge to bolt. It almost felt like déjà vu, really. The last time Tahey felt this way, it had been that day she was in the battle room, and she was about to be interviewed by the men of Strakh Inc.
Tahey lifted her chin. Even frightened as she was at that time, she hadn't run, so no way was she going to run now. She was tougher now. Truly.
Dmitry now stood inches before her. Big, sleek, and beautiful like the dangerous cat he still reminded her of, and even though he was wearing one of his terribly expensive suits, it wasn't enough to mute the tension his powerful frame radiated—-
A sick, horrifying thought struck her, and her eyes flew up to him. "Is it my dad?" she whispered. "Did he do something again?"
Dmitry could've cursed himself for not expecting Tahey to think and fear such a thing. "No," he said right away. "There's nothing for you to worry about on that score."
"I d-don't understand then..." Tahey wrapped her arms around herself, confusion and fear making her feel cold from within. "Why are you here?"
Dmitry shoved his hands deep in his pockets. "I'd l
ike you to work for me again."
Tahey stared at him as if he had lost his mind. "No."
"Are you saying you'd rather work in this dump?" Dmitry snarled.
"Yes."
"Don't lie—-"
"That's your thing," she pointed out unevenly, "not mine."
"Fuck."
And it was that of all things...
God.
Who knew, she thought hysterically, who fucking knew it was another F-bomb that would make her break down?
God.
She stumbled a step back, but it was too late. That fucking F-bomb...resurrected all the memories she had tried so hard to bury.
Because once—-
A magical night among the many magical nights that she used to share with him—-
A magical night that, at that time, she had believed was real.
And in that one magical night, while basking in the warmth of his embrace, she had asked him sleepily, Why did you keep saying 'fuck'? Did you really hate me that much?
Yes, he had told her, and no. I had my reasons for disliking you, but more than that, it was because every time you came close, I couldn't help wanting you.
"Tahey—-"
The memories crumbled at the hoarse sound of Dmitry's voice, and she choked back a sob.
God.
What a fool she had been.
When he told her that, she had actually found herself feeling tickled pink...
God.
She couldn't believe how much of an idiot she had been about him, so foolishly crazy in love with him that she actually felt glad, knowing she had made him say 'fuck'.
And now—-
Oh God, she only had to hear him say 'fuck', and...
No. No. No.
She looked up at him. "Why are you here?" she asked painfully. "What else can you possibly want—-"
"You said you loved me," he gritted out.
She stared at him.
And then she was laughing, a tiny hysterical sound that had his jaw clenching at how fragile she sounded.
"It's like what you said," Tahey finally managed to say. "I'm an idiot—-"
"Are you waiting for me to beg?"
"No." She shook her head, so tired that she couldn't even manage to feel dismayed or appalled Dmitry would think that. "I'm waiting—-"
