I owe that to the strength and love of my father as we navigated life together, alone.
My dad is everything to me. He raised me with such love and care, and while he may not have been perfect, there was nothing I ever wanted for. He taught me everything I know… Not just how to steal stuff and do it well, but how to read and do math. He’d even concocted science projects with me late into the night for school. He sat at the kitchen table, helping me with my homework every night. On the weekends, he taught me how to pick a lock with a bobby pin before I was ten. Because my world revolved around him, it is no wonder why I wanted to be like him when I grew up.
It simply feels good to be in his arms right now, so it’s with reluctance I pull back and let him see I’ve brought a guest to visit.
I feel my dad jerk slightly as I pull out of his embrace, telling me that he has seen Saint over my shoulder. When I step aside, I note the pure delight on my father’s face as he takes in the man who was once deeply involved with his daughter.
My dad adored Saint. He was the only man I have ever introduced to my father, who came to feel he was a man worthy of me not only by the generosity of his heart or the way he cared for me or the way he wanted to protect me, but also simply because he was a thief like us.
“Saint Bellinger,” my dad murmurs in awe, sticking his hand out.
Saint takes it, then my dad pulls him toward him for a half hug. “How the bloody hell are you?”
Saint shoots me a quick look. We had talked about this last night… what my dad does and doesn’t know about what went down between us and my current situation with Mercier.
It’s simple. My father knows everything that happened between Saint and me three years ago. I’d confessed to him—the one man I could talk to about anything—about what I had done to the man I had loved. My dad held me as I cried for everything I’d lost and assured me that I had no other choice, even though we both know I did. He’d never chastised me for it. Never made me feel like crap. Never once threw it in my face that I could have handled that situation a dozen different ways.
He was simply my dad, and he loves me despite my mistake.
“I’m good, George.” Saint releases my dad’s hand, then takes a good look at him. “How are you doing?”
My dad blushes from the notable concern in Saint’s voice. “Oh, as well as can be expected. Ready to get back to work, actually.”
Saint and I share another look. We talked a lot about my dad last night. There’s no way he can go back to work… not as a thief, anyway. And past that, he doesn’t have any other transferable skills. Since the stroke, my dad simply doesn’t have the reflexes it takes. Besides, his memory has taken a bit of a hit. I even notice it’s a little harder for him to process some things. I haven’t had the heart to tell him that he can’t do this anymore.
Instead, I say, “Dad… you don’t have any need to work. You’ve got more money than you know what to do with. It’s time for you to relax.”
My dad motions us into the apartment before shutting the door behind him. He gives me a sly wink. “I’m bored, Sindaria. I belong in the shadows, filling my coffers off the backs of the insanely wealthy.”
It makes me laugh—my father’s romanticized version of the type of life we lead. Shaking my head, I move into the small kitchen that’s separated from the living area by a half counter. “I’m going to make some tea for us.”
As I bustle around the kitchen pulling out the kettle and some loose-leaf tea, my dad motions Saint to the couch while he takes a seat in his recliner.
“When did you get out of prison?” my dad asks.
“About six months ago,” he replies.
“Back in the game?” I can hear the excitement in my father’s voice.
Saint’s lips curve upward. “Sin and I are working together on a few jobs.”
My dad, never one to tiptoe around what might be a touchy subject, asks Saint point-blank. “And how are things working out between you two? You know… since she, um…”
Saint cocks an eyebrow. “You mean since she sent me to prison?”
There is nothing but amusement in Saint’s voice, but I still feel a punch to my gut from his words. My dad gets flustered and starts mumbling.
Saint leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and staring directly at my dad. “We’re okay, George. Sin told me why she did what she did, and I understand it. I’ve forgiven your daughter.”
My dad’s sigh is long and audible. “Well, that’s good. Very good. Because… she loves you so much. Everything she did was from a position of pure love.”
I flush, feeling the heat creep up the back of my neck over my father’s unabashed use of the word “love”. It’s true, though. I did what I did out of love for Saint, and I’ve never once stopped loving him. Just because he was gone from my life didn’t mean the feelings were.
This is what sucks about us being together again. My feelings for him are as deep and as true as ever, and Saint, I am quite sure, could never feel deeply for me again. Not after what I did and took from him.
Saint doesn’t respond to my father’s proclamation of my love, and my dad doesn’t seem to notice. He jumps right into a conversation about what we are working on.
“What are you two planning? Is it a job I can help you on?”
A rush of sadness that my father is so hopeful he could go back to doing the only thing he’s ever loved besides me.
I step in, needing to shut this down before he gets too excited.
“It’s a job for Mercier, Dad.”
That’s all I need to say. My father’s face falls. “Oh… Well, never mind. He’s not happy with me now, is he? But hey… maybe we could work on something together one day.”
My dad has no clue the hold Mercier has on me. All he knows is he screwed up a job from the man and because he was recovering from his stroke—which took months—he had no clue of the fallout he’d left behind. Especially not about Mercier roping me into paying my dad’s debts for his screw-up.
My dad will never know, either.
I walk into the living area, leaving the kettle on the stove to boil, and bend over to kiss my father on the top of his head. “Sure, Dad. I would love to do a job with you again someday. Let Saint and I finish up some stuff with Mercier, then you and I will hit the town for old times’ sake. Sound good?”
My dad smiles brilliantly. “That would make this old man happy. Working with my daughter, I mean.”
My dad starts chattering about an idea he has involving a new jewelry store in the area. I turn back to the kitchen to start putting the tea service together, sad in the knowledge that, at some point, I’m going to have to have a truthful conversation with him to say that part of his life is over.
Which is ironic because that is all I want for my own life. To be out of this business and be normal.
CHAPTER 15
Saint
It’s been four days since Sin and I cased out Throb and visited with her dad. We had flown back to Paris and the next day, met with William to report on our observations. We then worked on ironing out a plan.
Unfortunately, Neal is on our team again. I don’t like it, but we do need a third person and William is calling the shots. At this point, I can’t rock the boat by refusing to work with Neal. I have to remain a solid person for Mercier to count on so he will involve me in whatever big heist he is planning. Besides, I get the feeling Mercier is narrowing down his favorites to the three of us for the big heist. If that means I have to work with Neal, so be it.