“Daddy, I didn’t do anything. I swear,” Paris pleaded, taking a step back so she was out of his reach—which was probably smart, because LC did look like he might smack the shit out of her.
“Shut up,” he said angrily, pointing his finger in her face as he closed the gap between the two of them. “Just shut up. Don’t you say another word.”
“But, Daddy—” That damn Paris just didn’t know when to be quiet. She was always trying to explain her way out of things, when the smart thing to do would be to just shut her mouth. This time, though, she must have sensed the level of her father’s anger, because she cut her sentence short.
I watched as LC closed his hand into a fist. I had no doubt what his next action would be, so I acted fast. “This is not the time or place,” I reminded him through clenched jaws. He shifted his eyes in my direction, and I saw that cold stare he got when he was about to explode. “Remember where you are,” I continued calmly. “This is a police station.”
He glanced around, then nodded as if I’d brought him out of a hypnotic trance. Paris had just dodged a bullet, and I was not even sure she knew it.
“Paris, why do the ones I love the most always disappoint me so?” he asked. They continued their staring contest for a few more seconds, and surprisingly, Paris didn’t have anything to say. Without another word, LC turned and walked toward the exit.
His reaction must have stung more than any slap in the face. Paris looked like she wanted to break down and cry, which was not something I saw often from her. I walked over and wrapped my arm around her shoulders, but she pushed me away.
“I’m a’ight,” she said, following behind her father but giving him some distance.
When we first arrived, LC and I had come in the back door of the precinct, in case the press was camped out in front of the building. I decided that it was best we left the same way, considering the lieutenant told me that Trevor’s family was on their way.
Once we were safely outside, I didn’t waste any time getting Paris in the car and putting some distance between us and that police station. It would be daylight in a few hours, and I couldn’t wait to get to my bed, where, if I was lucky, London might want to finish what we’d started before LC interrupted us.
“Harris, I got to give it to you, brother-in-law. You was gangsta in there with that law shit. I thought those cops were going to crap on themselves when you told me I could leave,” Paris said with her version of affection. She stretched across the black leather seat, stifling a yawn, as if this were just another night out at the club for her. It appeared she’d forgotten about her little confrontation with LC just that quick. He, on the other hand, was obviously still stewing.
“Anytime, sis, but let’s try not make this a habit,” I replied, wishing this could be the last time I had to do something like this—but knowing that in all likelihood, it wouldn’t be. I preferred the corporate side of the law when working on behalf of the Duncan family interests; that was the side that made me lots and lots of cash.
“Paris, I’m gonna ask you this one time and one time only.” LC spoke in a calm, nonthreatening voice. The proud, defining lines on his face barely shifted, despite the tension at hand. “Did you have anything to do with that boy’s death?”
I didn’t know what he expected her answer to be, but I certainly expected her to say no. The longer she remained silent, though, the more nervous I became. I felt my stomach twist into a tight knot when I heard her answer.
“Yes, Daddy, I did have something to do with it.”
I slammed my foot on the brakes so hard, the car came to a screeching halt. Thank goodness for seat belt laws, because without them, LC and I would have gone through the windshield. I said a quick prayer of thanks for the simple fact that there had been no other cars on the road to crash into us from behind.