Tristan knew people like him were never usually called out on things they’d done wrong. He was the boss. People worked for him, to make him more money, to make him more profitable, to make him more efficient. He didn’t have anyone giving him periodic reviews, telling him how to improve. This was a guy who was used to succeeding in everything he did, but here Tristan was telling him he was failing at the most important job a person could have. Tristan didn’t mind Manuel getting defensive, but if he found one more way to blame Shae, he was going to get a fist in his face.
“Dad, did you come here to yell at me? Because, as you can see, we’re kind of busy here. You can take your comments and get the fuck out.”
Atta girl. Tristan was happy she wasn’t just taking it because of who was dishing it. She was a fighter. It was one of the things he liked about her. One of the many, many things he liked about her. They reached their bedroom and walked in. There was an empty bag next to the bed. Tristan assumed that was what had delivered the clothes she was wearing. She got to packing the few belongings she had—her cell phone that wasn’t on, the suit she’d worn earlier, and the sundress. He had considerably more to pack. He started by grabbing his tools.
Manuel eyed the two of them as they were busy working. “You two share a room?”
“You hardly have a right to judge my dating habits. I’ve seen pictures of you in tabloids with girls younger than me.”
“You kept up with me?”
“For goodness’ sake, you’re my dad. Besides, I didn’t know at first who was trying to sabotage Seaside Escape. When that first brick came through the window, I thought it was you.”
For the first time, the anger fled for just the tiniest bit and was replaced with a flash of guilt. Good. He should feel guilty for what he did.
“Come with me,” said Manuel suddenly. “Don’t leave with them. These aren’t your people. You belong with me. The world you were born into. Not this riffraff.”
“This riffraff is taking care of me. They saved me, and they believed in me when no one else would. Sorry, Dad. I don’t hate you. I want you to know that I don’t hate you. But I hate what you’ve become, and I don’t want any part of that. I’m not going to be complicit in the things you do and the things you allow. I was born into your world, but I get to decide where I live. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to leave. I’m not telling you where we’re going, and you’d better not try to track me. I don’t know when I’ll see you again.”
It was meant to be a harsh goodbye. Possibly the last words she ever said to her father. But all of a sudden Manuel stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Shae. She stood still for a second, as stiff as a board. Tristan could see her eyes narrowing as though she was trying to determine whether she was imagining this. Finally, she lifted her arms up and hugged him back. Her eyes closed as they squeezed each other. For the first time since her father showed up, Tristan felt awkward. Less like he was protecting Shae and more as if he were invading her private moment. Just as quickly as it started, the hug ended. She picked up her bag and walked out of the room.
Tristan sighed as he finished collecting things. He wanted to protect her, but how could he protect her from that? In some ways, his family situation was easier. The last time he saw his father, he was drunk and sleeping in a puddle of his own vomit. Not exactly a nice last image. Not as nice as a hug. At least he didn’t miss the guy. At least he had no doubts that his father didn’t love him. In some ways that was better. Easier.
Suddenly Manuel reached out as if to grab his arm, but stopped when Tristan gave him a dirty look. “You and my daughter.... Are you serious?”
Great. Now he was getting the father talk. “I don’t need to tell you anything.”
“I know. But I’m asking you genuinely.”
“I’ll take care of your daughter.”
“That wasn’t an answer,” pointed out Manuel.
“Yeah, but it wasn’t a lie. Consider yourself lucky.” Tristan lifted the duffel bag to his shoulder and headed out to the hallway. Shae was already out of sight, so he quickened his steps to reach the living room.
The computers would take the longest to pack up, but they didn’t need them all. Toni and Scott had more than enough money to replace everything there. The only things she’d need to save would be a few choice hard drives. Monitors, wires, chairs and all the other miscellaneous stuff was expendable. But when he got there, he noticed Shae was gone. “Where is she?” he demanded.
Toni bent down to look at the one monitor that was still running. “I sent her off with Hunter. I don’t want her here if shit starts going down.” Her face darkened as she stepped away from the monitor. “Just in time, too,” Toni muttered. “We’ve got company.”
Tristan straightened. Fan-fucking-tastic. The most experienced marksman among all of them was driving Shae off the property right now. On second thought, that was a good thing. He’d rather her have as much protection as she could get. Everyone here could handle themselves. Except maybe Manuel. “Dammit,” he muttered. He turned to Gage and handed off his bags. Gage would normally be super pissed off about Tristan expecting him to be his luggage boy, but considering the circumstances, Gage didn’t say anything.
Tristan ran for the front of the house and saw Manuel headed to the front door. As soon as he caught up with him, he grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him back right as he saw the van pull up through the front windows. The van parked sideways behind Manuel’s car, blocking off one of the exits. And then another van came up, and parked behind the first. There were still plenty of places to get out on foot, but Tristan wasn’t in a walking mood.
He pulled Manuel farther away from the door and leaned forward just far enough so he could see people unloading from the van. It was like a damn clown car as a bunch of guys in full body armor got out. He could tell by their tentative steps and the unprofessional way they held their guns that these were no cops. “Looks like your business partner sent backup.”
Manuel’s brows drew together in confusion. “I don’t understand. How did he find me?”
Tristan couldn’t deal with this right now. “How the hell did you find Shae? Your phone, dumbass.”
Tristan didn’t have his gun on him, so he wasn’t much good at the moment. A few seconds later, he heard the tiniest creak in the floor and looked over to see Gage. The duffel bag was gone and replaced with a gun in his right hand. At least one of them was prepared.
Gage stood with his back against the wall in the entryway. “How many?” he mouthed.
“At least sixteen that I can see. Probably more inside the vans.”
Gage nodded. “We can handle that.”
“People aren’t as easy to hack as a keyboard,” muttered Tristan. They had all trained under Slade, so each of them had a fair bit of hand-to-hand combat training, and they were pretty much all marksmen. Hunter had always had the advantage over them, since this stuff was his specialty. As they were talking, Tristan could see the guys spreading out. They weren’t going to all slam the front door. They were spreading out to take on multiple entry points. He wondered whether they knew they were being watched. He wondered whether they knew this wasn’t exactly a surprise attack.
“Head to the back,” said Gage. “I’ll handle the front.”