Page 99 of Finders Reapers

Maddox put his hands on his hips and waited. I, however, was unable to stand still.

Going to a parent's house came with a level of familiarity that was hard to ignore. I wanted to go to the fridge and get a Kombucha. I wanted to sit at the island and chat with Rosa about her Abuela.

It didn’t take long for my father to come down the stairs. My usually unrattled, arrogant father was sweating. His hands clasped in front of him, knotting his fingers and twisting them before he rubbed his hands discretely against his trousers.

When Antonio Rossi smiled, his smile was worth every penny. His teeth were blinding white chick-lets, which we had shared when I was still alive.

He reached out to shake Maddox’s hand first. “You’re from Quietus?” My father cleared his throat as he pumped Maddox’s fist. He was nervous. I wondered if he thought that Maddox was a demon—it had only just hit me that my father knew about the devil, and demons, souls, and other shit, but had never said a word.

Maddox returned his smile with a predatory one of his own. “Yes. We are from Quietus.”

Tony Rossi’s Adam's apple bobbed. “Brilliant. Can I get you a drink?” He turned to me and held out his hand.

I inhaled sharply before I could control my reaction. I held out my hand like I was jamming it in a vat of eels and pumped his sweaty fist once.

My father’s eyes fluttered before darting down to my fist in confusion.

I let my hand drop down to my side.

“You’re Reapers?” My father cocked his head to the side, his brow creased, and something like desperation crossed his Italian features. “Not demons?”

I turned to Maddox, waiting for him to speak. However, Maddox studied my father with renewed interest and laser-point focus.

My father shook his head as if to clear it. “Apologies. Of course, you’re Reapers. Death and demons, I don’t know why I’m surprised that the Reapers are at my door.” Without explaining what he meant, my father ushered us into the kitchen. He offered us a seat at the island, and I was the only one to take him up on the offer.

My father opened the fridge. “I don’t have much.” He winced. “I used to keep stocked in case Valentina came over, but I don’t drink anything but coffee.”

“Coffee sounds fine,” Maddox said impassively.

My father kept his head down as he got busy with the luxury espresso machine in the corner that he treated like his baby. “Beans from Columbia. Rosa, my housekeeper, she brought some back when she was visiting family.”

“Sounds good,” I said. My smile was shaky.

Maddox took the file from his coat and slapped it onto the island as my father made coffee.

My father’s hands shook as he jammed buttons of the machine. His dark eyes flicked down to the file and stayed there as if he had seen a ghost.

“So that’s it then?” My father’s voice was husky. “It’s done.”

“Your daughter’s soul has been collected. Yes.” Maddox told him stoically.

My father relaxed. “And Maria? She went to the Summerland? To heaven?”

Maddox blinked and shrugged. He didn’t give a yes or no answer.

My father’s jaw hardened. “You judge me, don’t you?”

Maddox said nothing.

It was a tactic that I often employed, and watching it play out was unnerving. People didn’t like silence; they rushed to fill it.

My father brushed his hair away from his face. “You’ve never been married, have you, Mr…?

“Pierce.” Maddox supplied.

My father nodded staunchly. The bags under his eyes looked more pronounced than I had ever seen them. “Maria was everything to me. If there was a chance that I was going to save her from eternal damnation, I was damn well going to do it.”

Maddox blinked.