Chapter 13: 9| Blood-2

"The FBI agent who went rogue years ago? That Dante Rossi?" "Yes," he repeated, "that Dante Rossi. Do you have a problem with him?" I shook my head, "Mm-mm." He glanced at me, clearly skeptical of me but left without another word. Taking Dante Rossi's name was like dropping a bomb in our world. He appeared out of nowhere years ago after he went rogue as an ex-FBI agent and the mystery around him enticed everyone to work with him. Those who took their chances either ended up richer or dead. But it had been months since he went underground and the last I heard of him… he was getting wrapped up with none other than Anastasia Vitalio. The girl was crazy. Fun to work with, fun to be friends with but make her an enemy and there's no getting out alive. It's a good thing we're friends then. The incessant buzzing of my phone brought me back to the present and I cringed seeing 'Dad' flashing on my screen. I guess we're having that conversation sooner than I thought. "Hey, Dad," I answered casually. "Where are you?" he asked immediately, his tone void of its usual warmth and cheerfulness. "I'm at work." "It's almost time for lunch. Come see me at home. We need to talk, Amara." "Dad-" "Don't argue on this." God, him finding out before I had the chance to tell him could ruin everything. "Okay," I caved in, "I'll be there in ten minutes. I'll see you." When I walked into the house, I headed straight for his study and saw him sitting at his desk and waiting as promised. Settling into the seat across from him, we both sat in silence for a few minutes, waiting to see who would break it first. He did. "The one thing I've asked you not to do, you choose to do, Amara," he sighed softly, "this one thing that you promised me you would never do, you're about to." I leaned forward, resting my arms on the table. "Some things are more important than promises, Dad. This is more important than any promise I could make to anyone. Even you." He shook his head lightly. "You don't understand how dangerous this is. You're reopening a twenty-year-old case. We've already lost everything once when it happened. I don't want to risk losing anything this time. You will not involve yourself in this case. It was closed by the police years ago and… it's better off that way." My jaw ticked. "How can you say that?" I asked, keeping my voice low but my words sharp as they stung my tongue. "How can you say that about this case knowing what it means to me? If anybody knows why I'm so adamant about reopening this, it's you." His eyes softened. "Amara… I'm saying this because I'm worried about you. All these years, I've given my whole life to protect you from dangers that I didn't even know existed. I did it all to shield you from somebody who was out to get you without knowing who it was. I've given it all to protect you because you are my daughter and I love you. "I can't stand back and let you put yourself in harm's way. What happened twenty years ago never should have happened. I should have stopped them. I am lucky to have you with me here today and I will not let you do something that puts you in danger. I will not let anybody take my daughter away from me. So you will not…" he paused and inhaled shakily, glancing out the window and composing himself, "you will not investigate this case." I caught the slight tremor in his hand as it rested on the table before he pulled it down to his lap. "I'm very grateful for everything you've done for me," I said after a quiet minute, "I owe my life to you. I am your daughter and you've raised me to become who I am today, Dad." He met my gaze and I swallowed past the lump in my throat and blinked past the haziness in my vision. He closed his eyes and sighed softly, turning his head the other way. Even my gaze fell to my lap as I struggled to hold myself together, inhaling shakily. "It wouldn't be fair if I didn't even try," I continued, "they deserve justice too. If nobody could do it twenty years ago, I'll do it myself now." "Amara, please," he pleaded, "don't do this. Don't rip open a wound you're not ready to bear the pain of. Don't put yourself out there when you know what could happen. Someone tried to kill you too. Don't forget that the person who did this is still out there." "How could I forget that?" I asked. "Amara, we've done it all to keep you hidden from whoever that bastard is. I don't want you to do something that would lead him to you now." I fell quiet but all I could picture were flashes from that night. Twenty years had passed, I was only four years old when it happened but I remembered that night like it was yesterday. Thinking about it for even one second made me feel as if I were back in that moment, back at home in Italy, reliving that nightmare over and over again. On some restless, sleepless nights, I was reliving those horrors over and over again, unable to wake up. "The man who did that is a monster. I'm here today only because of you. We don't know who was behind this, nor does he know that I'm still alive and here today. But I can't help but feel as if I'm trapped in that moment, Dad. I feel like I'm still trapped in that room, screaming for help." "Amara," he sighed, "tell me honestly. Are the nightmares happening again?" I couldn't meet his gaze, couldn't give him an answer because I knew it wasn't the answer he wanted. The nightmares never stopped. But they would now because I wouldn't rest until I killed the man who did this to me. I wouldn't rest until I had my revenge; I wouldn't rest until the blood I had on my hands was his. . . . . . Chapter 9