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“Because they won’t make me cry?” She drew in a breath. “Okay, bad father. And then what?”

“When I was seventeen, he and a couple of buddies held up a convenience store. The owner and a clerk were killed and my dad was the one who pulled the trigger. The friends were caught and gave up my dad. Bart. His name was Bart Hanson.” Justice had been born Bart Hanson Jr., but he’d rejected that name years ago. Had it legally changed. He’d wanted nothing that had belonged to his father.

“The local SWAT team came to take him in. Dad wasn’t going without a fight. He’d planned everything and was going to take out as many officers as he could. I figured out what he was going to do and jumped on his back. I distracted him long enough for the police to get him. He wasn’t happy with me.”

An understatement, he thought. His father had cursed him, vowing to punish his son, no matter what it took. Everyone who knew Bart Hanson had believed he was more than capable of murdering his only child.

“That’s so horrible. Where was your mother in all this?”