His To Love Part 26

"I feel bad leaving him now," I said, in reference to my father. Although why I should was a mystery even to me.

But the fact was, he and Eleanor were the only family I had, and she was leaving tomorrow. A part of me wanted to jump on the plane with her and go back to Colorado, where everything was simpler. My heart surely never felt like it was being pounced on and pecked into a thousand jagged pieces when I was living among goats and chickens.

"Have you spoken to him yet?" she asked, her voice soft.

She didn't have to say his name. I already knew. She already knew that he wasn't far from my mind. Sometimes when I cried myself to sleep at night, I imagined Tyson's arm around me, comforting me and holding me close.

Other times, all I could hear were his whispered promises and lies that dripped from his lips.

"We have nothing to say to each other."

She arched a brow. "I think you should see him. At least to give you closure this time."

I shook my head. "I don't think that would go over well with my father or Malik."

I knew it wouldn't. On the few occasions I'd left the house since Malik told my father who I had been seeing, who I had given family secrets to, a black car followed closely behind me. I now had a shadow twenty-four seven. I couldn't even summon any emotion to care that a man trailed my every move.

"Perhaps." She took another sip and leaned forward, setting her mug on the coffee table. "But it's also not Malik or Jimmy who I'm concerned about."

I shrugged and matched her smile. "I'll be fine. At least in a while. I'll start over like I just did and move on."

"Moving on isn't the same as living."

No. It wasn't.

I opened my mouth to tell her that when Malik appeared in the doorway to the living room. His gaze locked on mine immediately and he barely spared Eleanor a nod of acknowledgment.

"Your father wishes to see you. It's important."

Tossing the blanket off my legs, I unfurled from the couch and tossed Eleanor a look. "I'll be back."

She snorted into her teacup. Being around my father for two days, listening to his constant demands and seeing his bossy ways, hadn't endeared the two to each other anymore than previously.

"What's this about?" I asked Malik as we walked through the kitchen.

"Due to everything going on, we've spent the last several days scrambling to fix the damage your mistake has done to your father's organization."

I bristled at the statement. "You know, had I known your takeover was so secret, I wouldn't have said anything."

"It doesn't change the fact you've put us at risk."

I opened my mouth to speak, knowing his patience with me was hanging on by a very small thread, when someone pounded at the front door, vibrating the heavy wood against the frame.

"f.u.c.k," Malik cursed and grabbed my hand. "Whatever you do...do not answer that door."

My eyes widened as he hustled down the hallway. "What's going on?" I called out, hissing so as not to yell.

He pierced me with a glare before turning the corner. "Don't answer that door."

Claude and Clarissa, along with Eleanor, who I figured had heard the noise, rushed into the hallway and met me in the entryway.

"FBI. Open the door." Another round of pounding vibrated the door and all four of us stared at one another, our gazes flickering between each other and the door we were only a few feet from.

My heart sunk to my toes. FBI.

Tyson.

I swayed on my feet. "Holy c.r.a.p," I said as a firm hand clasped down on my forearm.

"Steady there, Ella," Eleanor whispered into my ear. Her hand left my arm and wrapped around my back.

"Perhaps we should go back to the living room."

My head snapped to her. "Like h.e.l.l."

The doorbell rang wildly and made all of us jump.

Firm footsteps echoed off the tiled floor and all of us looked toward the noise.

My father walked toward us, glaring at me while he did so, ignoring everyone else. "You have done this to your family," he stated simply as he walked pa.s.sed me.

I looked back down the hallway. "Where's Malik?"

He looked at me over his shoulder. "Gone."

Then he turned toward the door and opened it with little fanfare and little regard to the fact that men had begun pounding on it again.

"You rang?" he asked, his lips curling into a sneer at the men in the doorway.

My hand flew to my chest and my mouth gaped open.

A handful of men stood on the other side, three dressed in black pants and black s.h.i.+rts with FBI printed in bright yellow, block letters. Others were in DPD uniforms.

In front of them all was Tyson, wearing a black suit, black dress s.h.i.+rt unb.u.t.toned at the collar.

No tie.

It was amazing the details you remembered when you felt your life coming to a screeching halt.

Because as Tyson raised a sheet of paper and held it out toward my father, stating the words, "Mr. Galecki, this is a warrant for your arrest..." and continued talking...I saw everything.

His black hair.

His hard jaw.

His blue eyes that hadn't once looked in my direction.

It didn't matter. I already knew I would never see those eyes again.

Before Tyson was done speaking to my father, who hadn't bothered looking at the paper in his hands, the three other FBI agents pushed their way into the house and spread out. Behind them, even more men entered, ushering those of us gawking at the scene in front of us into the kitchen, telling us to stay where we were until they told us otherwise. Eleanor's hand wrapped around mine as she tugged me toward the counter but my feet refused to move.

I watched in horror as Tyson spun my father around, instructing him to put his hands on the wall. Blood drained from my face as Tyson then slapped a pair of handcuffs on my father's wrists, pulling them none too gently into position. I followed them, not caring if any of the other men searching my house for who-knows-what tried to stop me. I ran after them as Tyson led him into an unmarked black car.

Jesus. This was straight out of a movie, except the reel in front of me wasn't fiction.

This was my life.

My nightmare.

Once the door slammed shut on my father, I finally found my voice.

"Tyson!" I shouted, and rushed down the steps.

He twisted toward me and braced himself as if he expected me to rush into him. "Blue," he said, and my feet stopped.

I froze, a few feet from him, seething, scared, and so mad at him, but more so, myself.

"I trusted you," I hissed, leaning forward.

He raised a hand as if to silence me, but I continued, wiping away tears that were already falling. I was frantic and crazed and I couldn't control it.

"And I loved you."

The slightest flinch, the slightest tightening of his jaw, was the only sign he had heard me.

"And I was just a game to you. A f.u.c.king case."

"You weren't," he whispered harshly. "But I had a job to do, too."

Anger boiled my blood. Or I was going insane. That was the only explanation for why my hand suddenly raised and my palm hit him directly on the cheek. Pain vibrated along my palm and up my arm, straight to my heart.

Tyson's head snapped to his left. He rubbed the area I had just slapped and looked back at me. "I know you think I deserve that," he started, but I interrupted him.

"Think? You just arrested my dad. On the same day we buried my mom!"

He nodded once. "I'll allow the hit, Blue, but there are things going on that you don't know or understand. Things I've tried to tell you, and I held off the team as long as I could."

"Well," I leaned back and sneered. "How n.o.ble of you."

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply just as men began trailing out of my house. Their hands were filled with files and paperwork from my father's office. Two men were carrying boxes filled to the brim with what I a.s.sumed were other files.

Fury continued rolling off me.

"I hate you." My teeth ground together as I stared at him. "I loved you, and you betrayed me. I never want to see you again."

I spun on my heels, rus.h.i.+ng back toward the house, only stopping briefly when I heard Tyson shout from the driveway, "We are not done!"

"We sure as h.e.l.l are," I spit, and entered the house, slamming the door behind me.

f.u.c.k him.

Eleanor met me at the doorway to the kitchen, her arms open wide, and a pained expression on her face. I imagined it mirrored mine.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered as I collapsed into her hold. Her hand brushed down my hair in a futile attempt to soothe me. "I'm so, so sorry."

Chapter 21.

THREE MONTHS LATER.

When you feel like you've lost everything, it's a miracle that life still goes on.

Twenty-four hours after the FBI infiltrated my childhood home and arrested my father, Malik Rilotti was arrested at his home, the Palace.

Three days later, Claude, Clarissa, and I were essentially evicted from the house when the FBI and other government officials froze all of my father's a.s.sets, including his property. Eleanor had stayed as long as she could but it was only a few days after that when I finally sent her home. At the same time, my father had an initial hearing followed by a detention hearing where a judge declared he would be detained in Wayne County Jail until his trial.

Since I'd lost my home, I ended up moving into the apartment in Latham Hills, after agreeing to a month-to-month lease stipulation. I planned on moving out soon, but since my furniture had all been delivered by that point, it didn't make sense to immediately pack it up and store it until I found another place. I was now looking for a new place south of Detroit. Or west. I didn't plan on staying in Latham Hills and I had at least been fortunate to not run into Tyson again.

Two weeks ago at my father's preliminary hearing, I learned of all of the charges against my father.

Racketeering and money laundering along with obstruction of justice.

Drug trafficking-and not just marijuana and cocaine, but heroin and crack. An entire warehouse was seized. Thousands of pounds of drugs intended for distribution would ensure my father and Malik wouldn't see a life outside bars for a long time.

But that wasn't even the worst of it.

s.e.x trafficking charges were filed against both of them and five other men connected to the Galecki family.

Those women whose disappearances had made Tyson tense during our breakfast months ago? They had presumably been taken under orders from Malik...that surely came from my father.

My eyes widened each time a new charge was read until I couldn't stand the sight of my own father. My gut churned at the mention of the last one. I had always known my father did despicable things. I had a.s.sumed drugs and murder would have been included in his charges. But to hear he'd been a part of s.e.x trafficking? I had to choke down my vomit. When that final charge was brought up in the courtroom, Tyson glanced at me with one eyebrow arched.

I looked away and I haven't seen him since.

I had sat on a wooden bench, watching as piece after piece of evidence piled up against the man who fathered me and the man who had wanted to marry me. My disgust grew with every witness who spoke.

When I later learned a grand jury had formally indicted him, I wasn't surprised.

My father was more of a monster than I could have ever suspected.

My life had become a flurry of courtroom visits and meetings with attorneys, but after that day, I'd decided I was done with all of it. My father had never once stood by my side, and I would no longer pretend to stand by his.

Despite the paparazzi and media that followed my every move, Simone allowed me to return to work after things calmed down post-indictment.