Runaway - Chapter 9
Saturday
Matt thought I was…dead? I just stared at my dad. I must have misheard him. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“I said that Matthew Caldwell thinks you’re dead. He believes you died during surgery. So unfortunately you can’t call him. That would be confusing for the poor boy.”
“What do you mean he thinks I’m dead?” I touched my chest like I needed the affirmation that I was alive. “I’m fine.”
“Of course. But everyone except for myself, the nurses at this facility, and your bodyguard believe you to be dead. I’ve been planning this for quite some time and was going to discuss it with you.
But after the surgery last week you said you wanted to leave the city.
So I expedited everything. And here we are. ”
“I don’t want everyone to think I’m dead. I need to talk to Matt. And I need to fix things with Kennedy and Felix…”
“I think everything is fixed. Felix is out of jail and all charges have been dropped. He’ll be allowed to go back to Empire High. And as for Kennedy and Matthew…they seemed awfully sad at your funeral. So I’m sure whatever misunderstandings you had with them were laid to rest at your tombstone.”
“How could I have a funeral? I’m right here!”
“It was on Wednesday. A fake funeral is actually an excellent and underutilized way to see who your real friends are. You had quite the attendance. You should be flattered.” He patted my shin.
“I don’t care about who attended my fake funeral. I don’t want to be fake dead. I want…”
“There is no other option, angel. Isabella has been threatening some rather…awful things. I found some plans hidden under her mattress.” He shivered, just thinking about whatever her plans had been.
“It’s better if you disappear for a while.
We’ll see if everything calms down after she graduates in the spring.
Or maybe we’ll be safe and wait five years until she graduates from college as well.
She’ll mature immensely in her college years.
Certainly she won’t be jealous of you then. ”
I didn’t think Isabella hated me because she was jealous.
I was pretty sure she hated me and wanted to kill me because she was legit psychotic.
“So you told everyone I was dead and had a fake funeral for me, all to make sure Isabella is happy? Dad! We talked about this. I shouldn’t have to change my life when she’s the crazy one. You need to lock her up. Not me.”
“I’m doing what I need to do to keep you safe.”
“I’m not an animal! You can’t keep me in a cage for five years while I wait for my half-sister to stop being murdery!”
He stood, ignoring me. “I’m sorry, but the arrangements have already been made.”
“Then unmake them. I’m not going to pretend to be dead.”
“You said you wanted to disappear, and there’s no going back.”
I’d never used those words. I’d said I wanted to leave. I wanted to be away from him . “You can’t do this…”
“It’s done.” He glanced down at his watch like this conversation was boring him.
“You can’t just leave me here.”
“I’m not leaving you here. As soon as you’re fully recovered we’ll be moving you to a secure location. You’ll have a bodyguard protecting you at all times. I’ve made all the necessary arrangements. You’ll have no contact with the outside world, other than me. You’ll finally be safe.”
Safety and isolation were two very different things. “Please don’t do this.”
“Brooklyn, I’m not doing this to you. I’m doing it for you.”
For me? God, and just like that I was pissed again. For me? Was he kidding? I said I wanted to get away from him after the surgery. Not be trapped in a life with only him in it. “I don’t want anything from you.”
He lowered his eyebrows and lightly touched the side of his stomach like he was in pain.
Was he trying to get out of this conversation by playing the “I’m in pain” card?
Maybe a normal daughter would be concerned about the fact that her father was standing in front of her with a cane.
But…not me. I wasn’t concerned about his health at all.
Besides, he’d be fine. He had my kidney after all. The sympathy card wasn’t working on me.
I opened my mouth and then closed it again when no words came out. He was telling me I had to stay in this room for as long as he deemed fit. This room without windows, where I didn’t know if it was day or night.
All I knew was that…I was terrified of my father.
One minute he was caring. And the next he was telling me I was trapped with no way out.
I wanted to slap him across the face. But I didn’t dare.
Instead I just blinked at him. He’d pacified me with his explanation of the kidney debacle.
But keeping me locked up here? There was no explanation I would accept for that.
I wished I was brave enough to knee him right in the crotch and make a run for it.
“Please just let me go, Dad.” I hated that I’d just called him that. I wanted to throw up.
He lowered his eyebrows. “Let you go? Brooklyn, I’m protecting you.”
“By keeping me locked up?”
“You’re not locked up. You’re in a hospital recovering from surgery.”
The door’s locked, you psychopath. I’d checked countless times. “So you stole my kidney, told everyone I know and love that I’m dead, and now you expect me to just roll over and be your prisoner?”
He sighed. “Of course not. And just for the record, I love you. I love you so much that I moved mountains to keep you safe. And as for the kidney stealing thing, would you please stop saying that out loud? That sounds terrible.”
“It is terrible.”
“No, it’s an excellent lesson, don’t you think? Always read the fine print. Speaking of lessons, I’ve hired a great tutor for you once you resume your school year. It’s virtual of course. We can’t let anyone else see you.”
It wasn’t an excellent lesson at all. What he’d done had to be illegal. I was a minor. I couldn’t sign my kidney away even if I wanted to. And why was he changing the subject? “I’m not doing virtual learning. I’m going back to Empire High.”
“No. You’re not. You’re not stepping foot back in New York City until I tell you it’s safe.”
“That’s not fair…”
“Not fair? Life isn’t fair, Brooklyn. If life was fair I’d still be with your mother. We would have raised you together. We would have had everything.”
I swallowed hard. He didn’t need to tell me life wasn’t fair.
But we had a really different picture of what our lives would be like if life was fair.
Because I wasn’t picturing him in mine at all.
I was picturing my mom still alive and just the two of us back in Delaware. Happy and carefree and whole.
“You have to let me go. Please, Dad. I can’t stay here. I can’t.”
He shook his head. “It’s too late.”
“No it’s not. Just undo whatever you did. Say it was a prank or something. And we can all laugh about it in a few years.”
“You don’t know Isabella like I do. You need to stay dead, or you’ll actually be dead.
Do you understand me? I’m protecting you.
I’m doing the best job I can under impossible circumstances.
So you will stay here for as long as I say you’ll stay here.
And you’ll have no contact with the outside world, other than with me. Do I make myself clear?”
I could feel the tears spilling down my cheeks. My father was usually kind to me when he wasn’t snatching organs. But I’d seen him mad like this before. Like the anger was oozing out of him. He was probably seconds away from breaking his cane in half.
I’d lost this argument. Because I was too scared of him to continue it. But it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. I wasn’t staying here. I’d figure a way to get out. And I’d run to Matt. I’d tell him I was sorry. I’d apologize to Kennedy too. I’d apologize to everyone.
Because I didn’t want to be dead. I didn’t want to be forgotten. I didn’t want to start over again. My dad couldn’t erase my existence as easily as he wanted. Because the dead had to agree to stay dead. And I didn’t agree to any of it.