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“Dad!” I sob, wrapping my arms around him. His confined embrace is so desperate and protective it’s like I’m back in the cradle again.
“Tell me you’re okay, Little Bear.”
“I am. I’m fine.” It takes everything for me not to lift his blindfold, but I have to calm him down first. “This man protected me, Dad.”
His body stills. “You, bratva? You kept your word?”
Dad’s face is getting blotchy and wet from the tears leaking under his blindfold. I dry them with my finger.
“I’m no bratva,” Silver drops the accent, pacing closer to us.
“Italian,” Dad says plainly. “What the hell is going on here?”
Silver takes a big step and removes the blindfold for me—taking all of the guilt off my shoulders. Dad’s irises blacken, letting in too much light before he immediately squints them shut.
“I’ll let your daughter explain.” Silver paces with his back to us. “Because you wouldn’t believe it any other way.”
Dad fights past the pain of light hitting his eyes for the first time in a while, I suspect. Then he tries to focus on me until his vision finally clears.
“God, Quinn. What happened to you?”
I shake my head and give him a big squeeze. “I’m fine.”
“Did he?” Dad nods to Silver.
“No!” I push off of him so not to hurt his joints any more than they’re already aching. “I’d have a bullet in my head and some less than pleasant experiences I would’ve had to take to my grave if not for this man.”
Dad tenses his jaw. “Who are you?”
“A nobody, Captain Dall,” Silver says cryptically.
“He’s our neighbor,” I say. “The one at the movie production house.”
“That house has been empty,” he scowls. “What are you, some kind of actor? Is that what the accent was about? The hell is going on here?”
“I promise you I’m no actor,” Silver replies.
The mood islighter than I expected. With my dad constantly gripping my arm to make sure I’m real, it’s like he’s on some type of disbelieving high. But I know that won’t last long.
“Dad, he’s an ex-mobster who saw the bratva symbol marked on the side of our house. Uncle F was convinced that it was the cartel that had gotten you, but he—”
“The cartel?” Dad says in awe. “What gave him that idea?”
Silver and I side-eye each other.
“Gambling debt gave him that idea,” Silver says. “Debt to the Russians, who only have one way of collecting.”
“Get the hell out of here. What is this, some kind of torture game?” Dad laughs it off. “Quinn, untie me. This is all a bunch of bullshit.”
“Of course I will, but I need you to listen first,” I say hesitantly. “I’m worried you’re not letting this sink in.”
“You’reworried? The hell is going on around here? You have bruises, Quinn. He could be forcing you to say all of this for some sick game.”
“Dad.”I look him in the eyes and grab both his wrists. “This man saved my life. The bratva almost raped me. They would have too, right before Yuri Patrovski put a bullet in my head.”
The rough brow over my father’s eyes softens. “You’re not kidding.”
I shake my head slowly so he understands. “The only reason you’re tied up, is because he wasn’t sure if he could trust you not to talk.”