“Because... you love me. And I’m still useful to you. Please.” Although she was pleading, it wasn’t out of fear. Not fear of death, at least. I remembered seeing this in her even as a small child. Paris had always been afraid of displeasing me. That child lived to win my approval, and it led her to be one of the best at what she did. “Give me another chance, Daddy. I won’t prove you wrong.”
Paris looked in my eyes, and I was transported back in time to the day she was born. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, and as the years passed, she just became more beautiful. How in the world could I take such beauty away? I paused, with my finger resting on the trigger and my hand trembling even more.
“Daddy?” she called out. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” I asked with a voice somewhat weaker in tone. I eased up on the barrel just a little bit. I let her take a breath.
“Why what?” she asked with sincere puzzlement.
“Why did you have to make this so hard, Paris? You think I want to do this? Huh?”
She shook her head, blinking her eyes to dissipate a tear before it slipped free. Its presence seemed to anger her. I knew my baby girl. She didn’t like to cry unless it was planned. Crying equaled weakness, and she detested weakness, especially in herself.
“Pop, dammit, someone’s coming!” Junior called out.
I finally looked in his direction just as a dark sedan rolled into the warehouse and two men jumped out.
An ambush. Shit.
“FBI! Drop your weapons and put your hands up! Now!”
FBI. Double shit.
“How can I help you fine gentlemen?” I called out, quickly placing my revolver back under my jacket and trying to will my hands to stop shaking. If I’d given in to my anger and shot Paris, this scene would have been very different.
“You can help yourself to a jail cell, LC Duncan,” the one I would peg as the lead agent replied. His gun was pointed directly at me, and his partner’s was pointed at Junior. Clearly, they knew who was in charge. Of course, our men had their guns drawn on each of the Feds. “Now, tell your fuckin’ thugs to drop their weapons and nobody has to get hurt. We’ve got a whole team on the way.”
“Fine, but let me see some badges first,” I yelled back. They were wearing FBI windbreakers, but that didn’t mean shit. They looked at one another, then moved their jackets aside to expose gold badges and IDs attached to clips. Thank God our weapons were legal and we’d already removed Alejandro’s men’s bodies. The blood on the walls, however, was going to take some explaining. For now, I preferred to think of it as a mere technicality for Harris to handle, nothing more.
“Good enough for you, old man?” the other one called out. “We really don’t want to do this the hard way, do we?”
Paris slowly rose to her feet, while I nodded for my men to obey the agents. They begrudgingly dropped their weapons. Squinting into the sunlight that was peeking through the warehouse skylights, Paris began ambling toward the agents in an unsteady manner.
“Paris, stay put, dammit,” I ordered under my breath. “I have this under control.”
That damn girl was ignoring me again. Now a part of me was wishing I’d shot her ass when I had the chance. She was going to make dealing with her that much easier when this was all said and done.
The agents yelled for her to stop but kept their guns trained on Junior and me.
“He... he was trying to kill me! You have to help!” she cried out, rushing toward the agents.
“Paris!” I yelled. Betraying me. My own flesh and blood. Shame on me for showing weakness and not doing what I should have. I couldn’t believe that of all my children, she was the one turning on me. As angry as I was, my heart was breaking.
“Miss! Move aside!” the two agents shouted in unison as Paris put herself between them and me, directly in the line of fire.
She was jumping around hysterically, screaming, “Please don’t let them kill me!”