My office is dark when I push through the door and head to the bar cart. I need a drink more than I need clean clothes or a shower. I need to clear my head for a few blessed hours and—
My senses kick in all at once and I whirl around in the middle of the room. “You must have a death wish,” I snarl.
“And you must be distracted,” my father remarks, stepping out of the shadowy corner. “I could have killed you if I wanted.”
I wish you would have.
I’m in front of him in an instant, my soaked sleeve barred across his throat. “You missed your chance. I won’t miss mine.”
“You want to kill me?” he rasps through his closing windpipe.
“Honor demands it after what you did.” I punctuate the point with a hard shove into his throat. “You sent a spy into my house. You kidnapped my wife and child.”
