Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“Fucking filthy,” I wholeheartedly agree with an unexpected laugh. I thought Alek’s backup plan was nuts until I realized who helmed it. “But they’re loyal as fuck.” I feel her heart rate surging when I murmur, “Anyone who is friends with your father is.”
“They knew my dad?” Shock highlights her tone.
I jerk up my chin. “Alek doesn’t trust many people, but he trusted your dad to place your safety in his friends’ hands.” Her smile should be way too bright for the late hour. “Though I doubt he’d feel the same way if he dug a little deeper into his past.”
“What do you mean? And why would he need to dig? My father is an open book.”
“Hey, I’m an ally, remember?” After kissing the tip of her screwed-up nose, I place her onto the seat next to me with a groan, then snatch up my laptop. “I asked Kliment to look into possible reasons his applications were denied.” Before she can voice her annoyance about me dragging Kliment into my mess, I stun her into silence. “He couldn’t find a Brecken Fleming, much less a visa application.”
“Huh?”
She didn’t mean to express her confusion out loud, but her expression shows she’s glad she couldn’t hold back when I work to elevate her bewilderment.
Within a handful of clicks, I bring up a report of visa applications lodged for both work and tourists from now until before Polina was born. A handful of Flemings visited on tourist visas over the years, but not a single Brecken.
“Did you try his address?” Polina asks. “He’s lived at the same residence since I came into his care.”
Nodding, I open a second file. “The house is now in Hannah’s name, but before that, it hadn’t been offered for sale in over eighty years.” With her confusion keeping her quiet, I continue filling the void with words. “Did he go by any aliases?”
“Not as far as I am aware. I could ask him?”
When I nod, Polina digs her cell phone out of her purse and calls a frequently dialed number.
Her worried expression grows the longer she waits for her call to connect.
After breathing out the sudden heaviness in her chest, she says, “Daddy, it’s me. Can you please call me back when you get this? I love you.”
She appears tempted to call him again. A hundred excuses as to why he didn’t answer are running through her head, but she holds back the urge when she spots my shocked expression.
“What?” she asks, unsure what has caused my gawk.
As I wet my lips, leveraging more room for a grin I should hold back but can’t, I stand while rubbing my hands together.
Polina pegs her purse at my head when I say, “Daddy? Fuck, Polly. I don’t think I’ve been harder.”
Her cheeks go the color of beets. “Don’t make it weird. He’s my dad!”
“How am I making it weird? You’re the one who called him daddy.”
I’m stirring. I know it, and so does Polina, but since it is a side of me no one has seen for a very long time, she plays along instead of nipping my shameful hankering for a bit of daddy kink in the bud. “Before you get any ideas, mister, perhaps I should remind you who the elder is of our duo.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Grandma, I’m aware.”
Polina fakes a dry retch. “You took it too far. Way too far.” She tosses her cell phone onto the entryway table before saying, “Now I need a shower to wash off the ick.”
Her march to my bedroom freezes partway when I ask, “Want me to wash your back?”
The weight on my shoulders seems nowhere near as heavy when Polina tosses her head back to look at me while raking her teeth over her lower lip. My grief will never leave me, and my head is thumping, but they could become manageable, even more so when Polina jerks up her chin to my suggestion.
I’m set to sprint into the bathroom, but Polina cools my turbines a smidge by saying, “After you’ve called my brother. You don’t have to tell him who the father of Annika’s baby is, but I’d rather he know it isn’t you.”
Since I agree with her, I nod before demanding she keep the sponge off her skin until I join her, and then I grab my phone.
As Polina enters my room, Kliment answers my call. “You work fast.”
I’m lost until he tells me to check my laptop. There’s no denying the image on the screen is the man I was planning to track down the instant Polina went to sleep.
“Who got to him?”
Kliment’s confusion can’t be hidden by his short reply. “You?”
“This wasn’t me.” I would have caved Pavel’s face in with my fists, not left him hanging from an apparent suicide. The other reason I don’t believe the ruse is the boot prints under his lifeless body. Pavel’s feet are shoeless, and the boot tracks lead away from the tree he’s hanging from. “How did you get this image?”