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window. He separated the curtains a centimeter and looked outside. It was starting to get dark, and Autumn looked at her watch. She should be at home now, feeding Diamante cyber treats and exercising him in his virtual doggy gym. She had also promised herself some time to write some new material. Everyone’s focus was on the forthcoming awards, but after that—win or lose—what then? She hadn’t written anything in months, and she had a deadline to meet for her next album. The record company was pushing. They wanted something out twice a year now to make the most of the summer and Christmas purchasers. She had always worked hard, but now she felt the pressure every second of every day.
    “What do you remember about your father?” Nathan asked, turning back to her.
    “I don’t talk about him,” she replied.
    Her response had been immediate and controlled , but inside her heart felt like it had been pierced by an icy dart. The bond of love she’d shared with her father seemed such a distant memory but it was instantly recalled, painful yet comforting.
    “That wasn’t what I asked.” Nathan’s eyes fixed on her.
    “I just don’t talk about him. Mother doesn’t like it, and he’s dead. What’s there to say? He was killed in a car accident when I was ten. That was seventeen years ago. It’s not relevant to anything now.”
    She swallowed hard after that last statement. All lies. She remembered everything about her father. When he was alive, there had been perfect moments in her life—riding her bicycle, crabbing at the beach, writing songs he listened to then joined in with. He had a terrible voice, but he’d tried, and they’d both cried with laughter. She couldn’t remember the last time she had cried with laughter since then. Perhaps she hadn’t.
    “He was a decent bloke, a good man,” Nathan said, reaching for one of the bottles of beer he’d ordered with the pizza.
    Autumn couldn’t disguise her shock. Her eyes widened, and all her senses became alert. Now she was interested in what Nathan Regan had to say.
    “You knew my father,” she said in no more than a whisper.
    “Yeah, we worked together a few times,” he responded, watching her.
    “But he was an engineer,” Autumn stated, confused.
    Nathan nodded. “Yeah, that’s right.”
    “Did you used to be an engineer?”
    “An engineer of sorts, yeah.”
    “He went away a lot, but when he came back, he always brought me something interesting. Like a funny shaped rock or sand from the desert. It was like he’d been on this adventure and he was bringing me back the treasures.”
     
     
    Her guard had dropped just as he’d hoped it would. She was an annoying bitch, but a cooperative annoying bitch was better than one who was non-compliant. Bringing up Rick O’Toole in conversation had worked wonders. She had stopped toying with the clasp on her purse and was actually sitting still. He almost didn’t want to speak again in case it broke the spell. But he needed to. She had to know how much danger she was really in, and it looked like he would have to lay it on the line for her.
     
     
    “This group is going to come for you, Autumn,” Nathan stated.
    “What?” Autumn replied, almost dropping her purse on the floor. She caught it by her knees and hugged it to her.
    “And when they come, we’re going to have to be ready. Me and you,” he emphasized. “Tomorrow, we’re leaving and getting on a plane. You’re not going to see Juan or Janey or that fucking yapping computer dog you arse about with until I decide it’s time. You need to get that fixed in your head. You might hate me, but you can trust me. You’re my responsibility right now, and I take that responsibility very seriously.”
    “I don’t know what to do. What do I do?” She looked at him, her gr ay eyes pleading for guidance.
    “First, you start by eating more than a fucking bird’s portion of everything. Be under no illusion, you’re going to have to fight for