“You want more, Victor? Christ. Men broke their backs to bring inventory back here, expecting it to last for years. What happened to the precision cuts? The labs? You told me you had plans, you underhanded son of a –“

Fuck. I take a deep breath, stopping the insult when it's too little, too late. Everyone heard. They're already cowering.

The tension is so thick in this board room, it's like being underwater. The career beaks staring at me are all overpaid brains. They stayed behind, crunching numbers and painting fancy graphics on screens, getting on their knees for the tax man. They never busted their asses in those God forsaken places that seem to get darker and uglier every time I visit – and they never risked their lives, and lost, like the three men in my crew last time.

They never saw the kids, the pain, or touched pure evil.

Neither did their boss. The animal in the prim suit in front of me never shows any outward emotion. He stares through his stone cold mask, his nostrils flaring once, before he says the words I'd stake my fortune on predicting. “Everybody out, please. I need a moment alone with Mr. Carlisle.”

I'm able to put a cork in my rage, for the company's sake, while they clear the room. Then, as soon as the door shuts behind the last man, I'm done. Pop goes the fucking weasel. “Mr. Carlisle was my father, asshole. You can start calling me Knox, and remembering we're family.”

“Please, don't bring our personal issues here. This is business, pure and simple. As you'll recall, I never made any strict guarantees about how inventory would be divided. I made inquiries with the labs in question, and had a whole team studying the latest growth and precision cutting techniques, but diamonds aren't people, Knox. You can't just make them appear from nothing.”

“Now, who's getting personal?” I ball my fists under the table, eyes fixed on him like an eagle as he sighs, reaches into his pocket for a royal purple handkerchief, and wipes the sweat beading on his brow.

No sympathy. He still thinks I'm a murderer, or at least an accessory, and he's the one who's sweating?

“You told me you'd stretch our resources. Invest in new technologies. Spare us from more of these goddamn missions. I don't see you doing anything except pissing money away, gearing up to risk more blood. I told you about the kids.”

“Ah, yes, the infamous debriefing. I read the summary, but not the details. This isn't an emotional business, man.”

“It's more than hearts and minds when you put boots on the ground. It's people's lives.” I want to add prick to the end of my sentence. So bad I bite down on my tongue, tasting blood.

“Yes, yes, and that's where you come in,” he says, folding his hands neatly in front of him. “Nobody leads better acquisitions than you. We'd have a lot more men to replace if it weren't for your very specific talents learned in the service.”

I don't say anything. I can't believe my own ears. This self-righteous fuck is sucking up to me now? Pretending I don't see right through his flimsy gratitude, his little pep talk about my 'unique place' in this business? That's the phrase he's used since I filled my old man's seat at this table.

“I don't think I'm asking the world, Knox. You're serving this company as best you're able, putting your special talents to work. You weren't ready for a place in this board room years ago. But neither of us could've planned for Martin's untimely passing, the shakeups that came after, or your...rather earnest interest in overseeing high level strategy for Black Rhino.”

“I've earned my place here, so you can stop trying to cut me down. You deal with me, not my father.” I try not to let the asshole get to me. I catch myself before I freeze up sometimes, thinking about my twenty-first birthday, when dad had a heart attack in front of us.

He hit the floor without so much as a goodbye. The paramedics never had a chance. I bawled my eyes out like a kid half my age for the next week.

That day, I learned mortality. A week later, I swore I'd never be like that fucking liar. Not after I found the letters in his office. Each sealed and addressed to a woman I'd never heard of.

Judy. A name as anonymous as it is infuriating, and I have zero desire to change it.

Dad left behind a secret mistress and a fake life. That was his legacy.

If only he'd left better lessons. I wish the rat bastard taught me sooner that sitting at the table with Victor Wright is bad news, and I should have treated his screwed up, missing daughter like kryptonite from day one.

“Careful, boy. You've earned an executive position, yes, but you're not a full partner,” Victor reminds me. “Per the terms of your father's trust and our charter, that doesn't happen for a few more years. Not until you've proven your worth to this company. So, as you'll recall, that means I have to sit here and listen to your input on how we should trim our diamonds to nubs and hike our prices. My obligations end with listening, Knox. As the final, sole, and senior decision maker in this company, I think I'll let you flail around in your pathetic rage, while I make the hard decisions about what's best for the organization.”

“My share's late again, too. Should've gotten my deposit weeks ago.” My hands go together under the table, bulging. Where the fuck is it? I want to say, but I've already shown him he still has a disgusting amount of power over me.

Eight million dollars doesn't fall down a black hole, except when I have to beg this man like a dog.

“Ah, so that's what this is about.” Victor smiles, his high end dental implants almost as white as his hair. “Your chief concern is always with yourself, isn't it? If I didn't have to tolerate your presence on the board, I'd keep you delegated to acquisitions and mail your check without any need for these lovely chats. That's where you belong, boy. We both know. Down in the dirt. Building fresh callouses on your hands. You're not your father. He gave you an open road to a good school and a sensible way up the ladder.”

He pauses, smiling. “Shall we remember what happened next?”

“Go ahead,” I snarl, swallowing the lump of black hate stuck in my throat. “Then we can take another trip down memory lane, and remember how your whore of a daughter never did a damn thing for Lizzie except serve as her incubator.”

His smile is gone. I'm not done. “You heard me. I've been waiting a long time to say it to your face. I'd spend whole days here cursing her fucking name in front of you, if only we didn't have to drain the bad blood between us once or twice a year, long enough for a family photo. If you weren't my little girl's grandfather, I'd –“

No. Stop. I have to, before making any threats he could use against me in a court of law.

Damn, if it isn't hard to shut up.

“Tell me, Knox. I'd love to know precisely what you have in mind.” He reaches up, adjusting his tie, a monstrous smirk hanging on his lips. “Would you like to go out back and take care of this right now? Perhaps I'll let you have your way, push my face into the dirt, knock my teeth out like the pea-brained barbarian you always were. And to think, Martin used to drink himself stupid some evenings after hours, worrying himself to an early grave over your teenage hijinks. Say...”

I've never hated the slow, tense drawl in a man's voice so much. I'm not going to like what this heartless fuck has to say next. I know it'll take everything I've got not to take the bait into punching him out right here.

“Sometimes, just between us, I wonder if all that worry for you is what caused his heart attack? A man of his class can only take so much with a son like you.”

I bolt up, sending the chair flying behind me on its wheels. It crashes against the wall, something that slows my descent on him just long enough to wonder why he's pressing my buttons so blatantly.

It should rub me worse than it does. But he doesn't know dad left me sick with his secrets, and I'll stop just short of ruining my life defending his name.

“Name what you really want, asshole? This isn't working.”

Victor leans back in his overstuffed chair, the nasty glint in his eye growing. They're a rich hazel color, almost gold. So different from the eyes my little girl got from me, it's hard to believe this bastard is related. “Frankly, I'd like you to learn you're place. You're a charity case, Knox. A leather boot very good at kicking up dust and diamonds when we need fresh inventory, and less whining. If you're telling me you won't do what you're best at – wheeling and dealing with third world scum who'd love to slit your throat – then I'd love for you to drop the pretenses. Realize you're no equal. Take your measly seven figures, make me a buyout offer, and get the hell out. Become a real dad to our Lizzie without screwing her up. Stay out of my boardroom, begging for scraps you don't deserve.”

“Scraps?” I take a step closer, but no further. I'm not giving this prick any reason to call security. Not that I think they'd stop me from having my way, considering who mentors them. “My family earned our place at this goddamn company for seventy years. I've done it, too, shoving my hands places you've never laid a precious finger on. I'm not your dog, Victor. I know, know, you'd rather be rid of me. Then you can hire more brutal, stupid roughnecks who won't mind the kids with their missing limbs over there, or how many casualties our own teams take. As long as you've got a few more diamonds to spin to gold, who the hell cares?”

His wicked smile wilts. He sucks his bottom lip in, and then with a sigh, reaches under the table for his briefcase. I'm standing there like a hand grenade, trying not to go off, wondering what the hell he's doing.

Victor pushes his case further down the table a second later, holding up a thin stack of papers. Now, what?

“You know, we'll never call truce, after everything that's happened...but I really hoped it wouldn't come to this. I don't do this lightly.” There's a frigid sadness in his expression unlike anything I've ever seen. Since when does this bastard show heart over anything? “The truth is, Black Rhino is moving on, into the new century, with or without your cooperation, Knox. I won't be around forever. We need a better image, a family friendly one. Maybe Lizzie will pull it off someday, as soon as my trust makes it to her, and should she desire to carry on the family tradition here. In the meantime, I want you gone.”

He can't be serious. Does he realize one of us won't be walking out of here alive if he's threatening me?

“Fuck you. I'm ten times the family man you'll ever be. You haven't even shown up for her birthday two years in a row.” Placing my hands on the table, I feel the coolness on the wooden surface soothing my rage, just enough to lean over, looking him dead in the eye. “I'll never leave. Give me my fucking share, old man, and stop playing games. Respect what I've earned. There's nothing you can do.”

“Actually, Knox, that's where you're wrong. Humor me for a second and read what's in front of you. I know it's hard for you. You do bullets, not words.” He pushes the papers toward me.

Gritting my teeth, I look down, my eyes scanning the dense text covering the first page. I see a judge's name, a court's address, then a lawyer's name next to Victor's. My heart doesn't start to pound until I see the references to Elizabeth C. Carlisle, and multiple mentions of custody arrangements.

No. Anything but this.

Not Lizzie.

You fucking sadist.

Words like unfit, irresponsible, and psychologically disturbed surround my name like a water stain seeping through the wall.

Now, I get why he isn't smiling. He doesn't need to. He's hit me so square in the balls they're in my throat.

He's threatening my family. My daughter. Vying for custody, ripping away the only thing my heart still beats for in the morning since my life became a wreck, since I shut everyone else who ever mattered out.

Ma. Jamie. Kendra.

Fuck, that last one hurt the most. Still gets to me like a dagger through the ribs when we're in the same room.

So many bridges burned for their good, and mine. All so I could save the last shell shocked piece of my heart for my little girl.

“I trust you're able to see the seriousness of the situation?” Victor's whisper oozes through my ears like a hushed roar.

I have a sudden flashback from Sierra Leone. A rival miner, some dispute with the man we bought our gems from. Ended with the maniac pulling his gun on my men. He pulled the trigger less than inch from my face, and then we were on the ground, hands locked around each other's throat. I choked him out first.

Never thought I'd ever want to feel another human being's life fade beneath my bare hands again. Never, until now, when I look at Victor, and it takes every ounce of strength not to murder him where he sits.

“Knox, one more time, take my offer, or go. It doesn't have to come to this. I'll be sure you get help, the best money therapy can buy for your very serious, untreated anger issues. You can stay with Lizzie and do this the civilized way, like men, on my terms. Or you can throw away what little you have left. Your choice.”

Choice. He's giving me one right now, but it's not in the words coming from his mouth.

Something stinks about the way he's egging me on. I look away from his monstrous face, turning toward the TV mounted in the corner. It's on mute, the day's news displayed, a talking head blabbing on while a financial ticker streams across the bottom with stock prices. I see the little black bulge plugged into the USB port, the one that wasn't there last week.

This whole conversation is bugged.

Fuck.

It's a setup, shoving this heinous shit in my face. He wants me to go crazy, break his jaw, turn his conference room upside down...all so he can march straight to the courts with the silver bullet on the table, and enough proof chambered to end me by ripping my little girl away from me forever.

One word starts pounding in my head, louder than my own heartbeat: go.

I don't do anything on my way out. I don't even stop by my missing seat to grab my laptop in its case off the floor. I just walk.

“Wait, where are you –“

Victor is on his feet, a scowl on his face. I don't look back even once as I rip open the door, and run.

My knees are numb. My blood runs cold. I don't even breathe until I'm in my car, engine started, making a direct course for the gate surrounding Black Rhino Jewelry's world headquarters. Victor hasn't had the time or will to make the security at the gate hold me over, thank God.

It's a long, hard ride home. First, I swing by mom's place to pick up my little girl.

No Kendra today. Just Jamie, who gives me her usual tongue lashing when I walk straight past her and scoop up my kid, waking her on the bed with a soft hand through her dark hair. There's so little of that crazy, disappearing bitch in her, and even less of Victor. I'm more grateful than ever today.

I slip Jamie a hundred bucks before I leave, pay for babysitting, something to blow at the bar when she's done pretending to study her accounting books.

“No Kendra today?” I say, unsure whether I'm relieved or wounded she isn't around.

“Like you care, idiot,” Jamie says, rolling her eyes. “She has a life beyond waiting for your stupid jokes about her very successful career, Knox. Just wait. One of these days, she'll leave Phoenix, and you'll need to find yourself a new punching bag.”

“Her loss.” There's no time for this. I walk out, Lizzie in my arms.

Honestly, her absence would be my gain. I'd finally be free from the sour crap I've never been able to keep in check when she's around.

Kendra is a walking, talking, evil memory in the flesh. I sweat poison when we're in the same room.

I had to cut her off. I had to close the door on us. After Sam, and the business overseas, I knew full well I'd only bring her sorrow if I ever let her get as close as she wanted when I still knew how to smile, and she was still just that plucky little girl.

It's tough as hell to smile when I've got her buckled in, handing her a juice box I picked up on the ride here. Don't have a clue what I'll make for dinner. Something good, something healthy, because I never let my daughter eat crap. Even with all the work, so much gone wrong, I haven't buckled down and hired a chef for the condo yet.

I don't just want her eating right. I want her sitting down with family, sharing the smile on her little face that lights up the room, whether that's with me, or ma, or even Jamie – as annoying as my sister is.

When I'm stopped at the light a couple blocks from home, I see Lizzie in the rear view mirror, giving me a tired smile as she sucks her juice box's straw. “Daddy?”

“Yeah, baby girl? What's up?” I don't know how she's able to make me smile, and mean it, but she does. There's a reason I love the evenings.

“Why're you so mean to Ms. Kendra?”

I keep my smile, but my hands tense on the wheel. “She and I have...a history. You'll understand someday. Know what?” I turn, before the light goes green, and reach for her little hand, giving it a squeeze. “You've just given daddy a very good reminder how important it is to be nice. I haven't done the best job with that lately, Lizzie. I'm sorry. I'll do better. For you, and for Kendra, too.”

Shit, if only it were so easy. I've done everything in my power to torch the biggest love-hate quandary of my life, and bury our history forever. Short of pulling up stakes in Arizona, abandoning the family biz, and taking Lizzie somewhere else away from our family, I haven't found a way to make it permanent.

Most days, I spend wondering when all this went wrong. Why it's so easy to treat the girl who used to mean the world like she's less than nothing, just another splinter in my life worth ripping out with soft curses between my teeth.

It's easy to pinpoint other times my life went off the rails.

I can do it with Africa.

I can do it with my stupid, drunken one-night stand with Sam Wright.

But I can't do it with her.

Not with Kendra. Whenever I let myself step inside our darkest memories, I only remember everything that used to be right.

* * *

I throw down my shitty flip phone and sit on the alabaster steps at my buddy's place, fingers trembling as I reach for a smoke.

By now, several years in the Marines, I thought I'd seen it all. Death, explosions, blood on the streets, villages brought to ruins. All the ravages war brings and a steaming cup of misery on the side.

Yet, no wartime horror ever shook me up half as bad as the words Sam just said over the phone.

I'm pregnant, Knox. Fifteen weeks. You'd better get your ass out of the military and help me before daddy finds out. It's time to grow up.

Forget her powerful daddy. What she really means is, before I have to give up parties, booze, ecstasy abuse, and fucking a new sucker every week.

None worse than me. I'm officially the biggest chump of all by screwing the psycho daughter of my old man's business partner.

I'm not stupid. Knew it was a mistake the morning after it happened. The pussy I'd had hit me through my hangover fog like a semi doing eighty.

But I never thought the universe had a sense of humor this sick. Never thought my dealings with Samantha Wright would be one more awkward regret.

I'd shrug, forget her, and move onto happier hunting grounds. Not wind up shackled to the apocalypse.

I don't know what the fuck just happened after that call. It's surprisingly hard to fathom this new reality, where I'm responsible for another human being's existence.

Jesus.

I sit down with a smoke tucked between my lips, drawing a long drag. Sweet relief fills my lungs. It's a bad habit I've had the last few years, one I swear I'm giving up the day I'm discharged. It's easy to pick up in Afghanistan, when there's nothing to do at the isolated outposts except smoke and crack dirty jokes – right up until the moment some Taliban assholes start lobbing mortars at your head.

I'm still sitting there, face in my palm, when I hear the door to the house fly open and bang shut behind me.

“You look like hell, Knox. Hangover already?” I'd love to wipe the nasty little smirk off my little sister's lips. “You know, we can take some of that beer you brought off your hands, if it's hurting you so much...”

She's standing there with a towel wrapped around her, hair slick from swimming. Her shadow's there, too, next to her.

Kendra Sawyer. Bashful, hot, and way too young for me. They're both friends with my pal's youngest sister, another girl named Mandy. Seems like everybody's here today to break in the new swimming pool Danny's parents just put in.

“Fuck off, Jamers. I am not giving you booze. Don't even try to sneak one past me, or I'll throw you in my truck and drive you straight home to ma. You're not too old for a whoopin'.”

“She wouldn't dare! You're just trying to scare me.” Sis sticks her tongue out, crossing her bratty arms. Kendra pulls her towel closer, careful to look away, as if I don't notice the schoolgirl crush she's had on me for years.

Damn, do I wish Sunflower was older sometimes. Maybe then I'd have stuck it in her instead of crazy a couple months ago, and saved myself some major grief.

“Seriously, Jamie. Go. Leave me the fuck alone and stay out of trouble. I'm in the middle of sobering up anyway, seeing how I'm your ride home.”

“Okay, okay. Ass!” She pouts, pulling on Kendra's arm. “Come on. Let's go find some fun before Mr. Uptight tucks us in for curfew.”

“You go on, Jamers. I need some fresh air.” Kendra sits down next to me as her friend shrugs, and scampers off to find more mischief. “How're you hanging in there? This must seem boring, or very weird, after all the time spent over there. I can't imagine coming home, after everything...”

I smile. She's curious what I do in uniform, but she's too damn shy to stop dancing around it and ask. Her innocence is frustrating and adorable.

“Sunflower, this is heaven. Trust me. I've got every reason in the world to smile each day I'm out of some crazy asshole's sniper sights. Same goes when I can drive around town without worrying about rolling over an IED. Only thing weird around here is why you're not letting my sis get you into trouble with some boy.”

Her face goes red, and she looks away. “I'm in the middle of finals. Can't have that kind of distraction.”

“Get over yourself, darling. Someday, you'll be good and ready. Wait for college. Every wide-eyed, amped up shithead with a functional dick will want a piece of the girl who's smart enough to skip into Arizona U a sophomore. Watch out. Their kind hops on innocence like a dog slobbers on a bone. And if any of them give you trouble, call me.”

She laughs, studying the serious look on my face. I'm not joking.

I don't know why, but picturing her with a gaggle of twig boy jocks watching her every move gets my blood hot.

She's too good to be fucked with. That's what it is. Kendra's too sweet to wind up deflowered by the average beer chugging, emoji flirting pissant from the frat houses.

“I'm almost grown. Can't have you fighting my battles forever, Knox, but thank you.” She gives me a knowing look, and we share the last time I saved her from high school tears. “What's eating you? I thought you'd be out back longer, screwing around with Danny's new diving board. It's so fun!”

I look at her glumly. So far, I think I'm the only other person on the planet who knows the big secret Sam just dumped over the phone. I've never liked bottling my venom and hiding it.

What's so wrong with letting her have a sip? She's always been tight-lipped, and never spills her secrets, much less anybody else's.

“How about a dirty little secret? Mine,” I say, waiting for curiosity to light up her pretty green eyes. Kendra leans in. “I'm having a kid. Just found out. This lame fucking late night hookup I had when I was in Scottsdale on leave last time had consequences. I'm a father, Sunflower, and one more broken condom statistic.”

I wish like hell that shredded rubber was worth it. Only thing I remember about that coupling is how dim her eyes looked when I brought her over the edge, and let my balls throb loose when I'd had my fill of mediocre pussy.

It wasn't even good. I've had a dozen lays better than Sam. Disappointing for a crazy one, especially. Even the ones who think Elvis is President get wild, leaving a man with stroke fodder for weeks.

Not Sam. I got a chore fuck and an orgasm more like a sneeze than a proper release.

But the universe doesn't give two shits what I bought. It was enough to make a baby.

I've never seen the little angel in front of me so red. Kendra's heartbeat burns in her face, lightning her up like a Valentine. For a second, I wonder if I've fucked up, laying something this heavy on her. So far, it isn't much relief.

Then, next thing I know, she's got her little hands around me. She crashes into my chest, swinging herself around my neck, grasping me with all her might.

“Oh, Knox. Don't worry! Everything'll be okay. You'll be great at this stuff, a total natural. I know you'll be an amazing father.” How she says it without a hint of irony or doubt in her tone, I'll never know.

Okay, damn it. So, I'm touched.

I reach up, squeezing her arm, running one hand softly and swiftly down her face. I make it fast. A second longer, and it'd be on the edge of something more than a man embracing a good friend.

“I'm not worried. I'll live,” I tell her, after she pulls away, noticing the fog in her eyes.

“Why me?” she whispers, clinging to my bicep with one hand. “I'm glad you said something – no one's meant to carry feelings so heavy around – but why me over your friends?”

“Because you won't squeal to anybody. Not even Jamers.” I smile, my busted up heart rattling once in my chest when I release her, and stand, throwing my half-burned smoke down on the driveway. My boot smothers it. “I can't rat off to Danny and the boys, and not my army buddies neither. Not yet. This one's between you and me, woman. Our little secret.”

“If you ever need anything...I'm here. It's the least I can do after last year, at prom, when you –“ her voice goes flat.

Christ, almost a year later, and she's still choked up about it. I remember like it was yesterday, and I smile, grasping her hand between mine one more time. It's so small, so fragile, so fucking innocent to be pinned right between my dirty fingers.

“Forget it, Sunflower. Told you before, it was nothing. Least I could do after that little jerkoff left you high and dry, without a date at the last minute. I'd still like to wring his neck.” I don't get kids today. Kendra's boy skipped out just a day before her Junior prom, when she had her dress picked out and everything, all so he could buckle down for another night of Mountain Dew and Call of Duty with his idiot friends.

“Yeah, well, it was almost a bad night. Would've been a whole lot worse if you hadn't barged in on Jamie, pulled me away from the girls, and took me out to that drive-in place. I haven't been back to Camelback since. It was our place that night, Knox. Just you and me.”

I've never heard a woman I haven't laid talk so much about a place we went, and mean so much.

So, there's more than one secret between us. More than one moment, sponsored by this strange, magnetic, fate-crafted pull between us. I'll never understand it, honest to God.

When I'm over there, thousands of miles from everyone I know and love, or a good burrito joint, I remember that night. Made my time off worth it, hiking up Camelback Mountain with her, plopping down in front of the crystal starry sky.

Started out in an attempt to cheer her up. Ended with both of us smiling, happy, finding our peace.

We ate our burgers and malts on the mountaintop in dead, heavy silence, whispering a few times each hour about the moon, the constellations, the rock formations surrounding Phoenix's halo white lights below.

Leaves me wondering if the universe keeps bringing us together for a chance to make up bad karma.

I always try. Grabbing her hand one more time, I squeeze, trying not to let my let my mind wander to all the things these fingers would do if she were just a little older, and not my sister's sidekick.

“Get the hell out of here, Sunflower. I'm serious. Find some fun with Jamie, but reign her in for me.”

“You know I will,” she says.

It's hard to walk away when I know her eyes follow me, big as the summer sun, wishing one day I'll crack, turn back, throw her over my shoulder, and then into my car. I remember how those stupid, reckless teenage fantasies used to be because I had plenty.

Sometimes I feel like shit for leading her on, intentional or not. There's lines I've crossed in my life – too many to count since boot camp – but doing anything with Kendra Sawyer involving no clothes and a sting on her heart is a gate to hell I simply won't open.

Not if I want to keep what's left of my soul. And once this baby comes into the world, looking up to me because I know it won't get much from its ma, I'll need my humanity.

I get in my truck and go, leaving Kendra to the carefree mischief every kid deserves at eighteen, and me to my worries.

Chances are it'll be the last time in a good, long while I lay my shit so thick on another human being.

If war has taught me anything, it's to keep my mouth shut. Words never help. A spine of steel does when we're facing life, death, or just shitty morale. I don't know much about parenting, but I'm sure this lesson goes double.

Lucky for me, I've always been a quick learner.