Chapter 29

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

" I 'd forgotten how good of a cook you are." Tobert leaned back on the stool and unbuttoned his pants.

Myrria faced away from him at the sink, gritting her teeth and forcing herself not to snap back at him with the smartass comment that was begging to trip off the end of her tongue. After so many years away, she was surprised he remembered anything about her.

He'd made it clear while they ate that he barely remembered the existence of Zala, much less the fact that she was so grown up. Zala, for her part, didn't seem interested in getting to know the stranger who claimed to be her father, and only cast him sideways, suspicious glances.

"You should finish your wine." Myrria made herself smile as she turned around and motioned to the glass that she'd refilled multiple times during dinner. He'd finished almost the entire bottle of cheap wine by himself, and his glassy eyes and slurred speech told her that he was far from sober. She only hoped he was drunk enough to fall asleep before he could think of trying anything with her.

Myrria might technically be his wife, but there was no way she was letting the man who'd abandoned her and Zala slide back into her bed as if nothing had happened. Not only was Myrria not the meek woman he'd left behind, she'd gotten a glimpse of what it was like to be cherished by a decent guy. There was no going back to being neglected and dismissed after Rixx.

Tobert chugged the last of his wine and thumped the goblet back on the table, swaying slightly on the stool. He gave Myrria a leering smile. "I knew coming back here was the right thing. I knew you'd be glad to see me." He let out a hiccup that turned into a belch. "You always were a good wife who did what she was told."

Myrria was sure the sound of her teeth grinding was audible, but she made herself smile as she bustled toward him. "You look like you need to lie down before dessert."

"There's dessert?" His thick eyebrows lifted as she hoisted him up under one armpit and steered him back to the armchair.

Zala popped up from the table and helped her, although she didn't bother to hide her grimace from being so close to the man. Not that Myrria blamed her. The man reeked like sweat and fish.

Once they dropped him in the chair, he rolled his head back and mumbled something about resting his eyes before his mouth fell open and he started to snore.

Zala slid her gaze to her mother, a look of horror on her face. "He can't be—"

"He is," Myrria cut her off and turned away. "I was not the same person I am today."

"Were you blind and noseless?" Zala muttered as she backed away from the smelly, snoring man.

Myrria should have told her not to be so disrespectful, but one look at the sad, scrawny man in the chair made a sob and a laugh battle their way up her throat. Then she started laughing so hard she had to walk to the other side of the room and put a hand over her mouth as her shoulders shook.

A reluctant smile finally banished the look of disgust from Zala's face, as she joined her mother at the table, the two of them trembling with laughter that they tried but failed to control.

Once they'd laughed until tears streamed down their face, Myrria swiped at her cheeks and sighed. "I was sure he was dead."

"I can see why you'd hope that."

Myrria attempted to summon a severe look. "Zala, he is your father."

The girl shook her head. "No, he isn't. He didn't raise me or support me. He didn't even remember I existed." She shot a look of pure scorn at the heap in the chair. "He wasn't dead. He's been alive all this time, but he didn't care about us enough to come back."

Myrria opened her mouth to respond, but what was there to say? Zala was right, and Myrria marveled that the girl sounded so much older than she should have because she'd had to grow up fast. Life hadn't been easy for the two of them in the Den of Thieves, which meant that her little girl was shrewd instead of innocent.

"What are we going to do?" Zala asked, the laughter gone from her voice. Now she did sound like a little girl. "Are we supposed to let him live with us like he never left?"

The idea of that made Myrria's stomach churn. She could not let him back. Not after everything.

Not after Rixx, a small voice whispered in the back of her mind.

Rixx.

If all had gone according to plan, he was hiding with Serena. As much as she trusted the madam, Myrria didn't like the thought of the Dothvek living in a pleasure house. She knew what the beautiful women wore because she made it for them, and it left little to the imagination.

Myrria looked at Tobert again and headed for the door. "He won't wake for a while."

Zala didn't ask where she was going. She didn't need to ask.