Strong Enough(35)

“I’m right here, Dad,” I respond, my heart pounding in my ears.

“I’m going to need you to go with Jasper.”

And just like that, my plans—and likely my good, self-preserving intentions—go straight to hell.

—

“Don’t you think you should at least tell me why instead of just telling me what I need to do and expecting me to comply like one of your soldiers?”

My father is sitting on the couch, facing me, one hand on my knee as if to keep me calm. Jasper is standing near the corner like a stoic, iron sentinel.

“I promised you I’d tell you everything, but sometimes it’s better that you not know it all right away. It’s safer.”

Safer. Grrrr.

“How is it that I end up in the middle of such colossal messes when I have no freaking clue what’s going on?”

At least Dad has the decency to look ashamed. “I would never want to be a liability to you, sweetheart, but unfortunately being my daughter comes with a risk. If anyone wanted to find a way to hurt me, to get me to do something against my will, all they’d have to do is use you.” He starts to glance back, almost like he’s going to look at Jasper behind him, but then he doesn’t. His stormy eyes find mine again. “I’m sorry for that, Muse. I would never want you to get hurt because of me.”

And now I feel ashamed. I know he’s only doing what he thinks is best, what he thinks he needs to do to protect me. Being bitchy about it only makes it harder for both of us and makes him feel bad about being a good dad.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I know you’re doing your best. It’s just . . . I’m just frustrated. That’s all.”

“So you’ll go, then?” he asks tentatively.

I slide my gaze up to Jasper. His expression is fierce yet unreadable. All he needs is a sword and chain mail to be a dark knight on a mission for his king. And if I’m not careful, he could slay my heart in the process.

“Yeah, I’ll go, but how long is this gonna take? I can’t leave Miran indefinitely, not with just Melanie for help. You know how—”

“Miran will be fine. I’ll talk to her.”

I should’ve expected that. Miran and my father obviously have a longstanding—and very trusting—relationship. It makes me wonder if I’m not the first person she’s taken in like she did me. I mean, she owns the apartment that I live in, she deducts the rent from my pay and gives me the rest of the money under the table. She even gave me a burner cell phone the day that I arrived at her door. I more or less just stepped into a ready-made life, where I could be as anonymous as I needed to be. Heck, Miran and my friend Tracey are the only people in San Diego that even knew my last name. Yet Miran never asked one question.

“How will I know when . . . I mean, will you call me? Or . . . ?”

“I’ll contact Jasper. He’ll let me know where you are and then I’ll come for you.”

“You won’t even know where I am?”

This puzzles me. And it obviously doesn’t sit very well with my dad, judging by his expression.

“No, but you’ll be safe with him. He’s the best.” Dad does throw a look back at Jasper this time. I’m still clueless, though. I can’t see my father’s face, and Jasper’s shows nothing. As usual. He just nods at Dad. But I’m assuming that’s enough communication because when my father turns back around, he looks somewhat satisfied. Even if I am not.

“Will I be able to reach you? Just to know you’re safe?”

“It’s better if there’s no contact until this is all over.”

Suddenly I feel desperate, panicky. I reach for my father’s hand. “Dad, please tell me what’s going on. You’re worrying me.”

His smile is stilted. “Don’t you worry about me. This is about you and keeping you safe. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Despite the ambiguous circumstances, his reassurance calms me. Colonel Denton Harper doesn’t make promises he can’t keep. And he doesn’t placate. He might keep secrets, but what he does say is true.

“Okay,” I say finally, tacking on no questions or complaints or conditions. The least I can do for this man is go along with what he’s asking, give him peace of mind. That will have to be enough for me, too. I have a feeling that peace of mind will be nonexistent for me in the coming days. Not only will I be waiting for my father to come for me, but I’ll be trapped with a man I already find intriguing and irresistible beyond that with which I’m comfortable. And he gives me the feels. All of them. What will become of me when I can’t escape him, when I can’t slip away into my own troubles?