Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five
Five and a half days in Deadwood without work or Ryker to distract me is a good reminder of how much I hate this place.
A trip to the grocery store resulted in a run-in with one of my mom’s old friends who barely looked at me before she turned and ran away, bawling her eyes out. I then ran into Isabel in the produce aisle where she’d asked if I had time to meet up and talk, to which I told her I already knew she was taking a year off of school and there wasn’t any reason to. She’s called several times since, but I send each one to voicemail.
At the gas station a day later, a clerk asked me if he could pray for me and then proceeded to do so anyway after I politely said no. The words “cleanse the evil from this young woman’s soul” and “heal her broken body” weren’t exactly encouraging. The day only got worse when I ran over a stray spray paint bottle on my way home. The small explosion covered two of my new tires and the front left bumper of my truck in bright-red paint splatter that too closely resembled blood after a gory accident.
A pressure washer and a few hours of elbow grease took care of most of the mess, but the experience was enough to convince me to stay home for the rest of the week.
At least Dad followed through on his promise to spend some time together this morning. I’m pretty sure he would have held out longer, but apparently the stack of dirty dishes and clothes piled throughout the house combined with the sight of me binge eating Nutella in front of the TV for sixteen hours a day was concerning enough that he finally broke down and took me fishing…where he proceeded to take one work call after another about the upcoming quarterly town hall meeting.
For as long as I can remember, Dad’s discussed his job without inhibition or filter. His “Ignorance isn’t a shield, it’s a blindfold” motto means I’ve overheard the gruesome details of decomposing bodies, horrifying accounts of domestic abuse, and the particulars of everything from Deadwood’s ongoing feud between the police and fire departments to the town drunk getting caught naked in the fountain in the Old Town Square.
He’s never held anything back. At least he never used to…until today.
Out of all the calls Dad took while he should’ve been fishing, there was only one he excused himself for, taking special care to move out of my range of hearing on the opposite end of the dock while throwing tentative glances in my direction.
I’ve been working up the courage to tell him about Austin all morning, but between the constant phone calls and sidelong glances, there just hasn’t been an opening. I peer over to the passenger seat, but Dad’s too busy scouring the glove compartment to see my pensive gaze.
“It’s not a bad truck, kiddo,” he says, closing the glove box and leaning back in his seat. “I hate that it doesn’t have airbags, but at least the engine is only a few years old and you have seat belts now. Do you remember when I helped Old Man Dan put that engine in?”
I bob my head. “The oil stains ruined two loads of laundry. How could I forget? ”
Outside, something red catches my eye, but I’m driving too fast to see what it is.
“Never thought my daughter’s first car would be a beast like this, but at least I know she runs well.” His phone chimes with an alert, a smile spreading over his lips as he reads the message. “Looks like our boy’s already making a name for himself at the academy.”
Our boy…
I doubt it’s the first time he’s used that phrase, but it’s the first time it’s ever made my stomach feel all fluttery.
Dad’s phone goes off again, the sound of cheering and his hardy chuckle filling the truck a moment later. “Apparently, Ryker put everyone on their asses during their first Ground Defense class yesterday.” He turns his screen and I catch a brief glimpse of Ryker slamming someone onto a dark-blue wrestling mat before returning my eyes to the road. “He also got the top score on their first test. Even their guest lecturer was asking the cadre about him.”
Dad’s phone goes off again.
“Damn,” he mumbles. “I forgot I wanted to sit in on that lecture. The commandant got someone from the FBI’s white-collar crime unit to come and?—”
“They already had a test?” I interrupt, attempting to redirect him back to the previous topic for more information about Ryker without being too obvious. Grunting, I use both hands to make a wide left turn. The lack of power steering took a hot minute to get used to, but I’m finally getting the hang of it.
“Two tests, actually,” Dad replies. “The first few weeks are jam-packed with opportunities to weed out cadets who shouldn’t be in law enforcement.”
My brows pinch. I’d never considered that Ryker might not graduate. I assumed once you got in, it was a sure thing.
“Hey, that reminds me,” Dad says, tearing me from my thoughts. “Where’s your brother been? If he’s not going to be around this weekend, I want Ryker to take his room so he can get some rest and have a quiet place to study. ”
I shrug. “Who knows. Staying with one of his friends, if I had to guess.”
A heaviness settles over my shoulders. Noah hasn’t been home since the party. He hasn’t responded to any of my texts asking if he wants to meet up and work things out either.
The thing that really pisses me off is how badly I want to forgive him about the whole Cooper bullshit before I leave. But in order to do that, I need him to explain himself and admit how messed up his actions were. If he does that, then I’ll come clean about Ryker. Maybe once all our cards are on the table, Noah and I can start earning each other’s trust back.
“You really don’t know where he is?”
“ Nope ,” I say, popping the p to signal I’d like to be done with this line of conversation as I pull into an empty parking spot at Rib Cage.
Judging by the scrunched-up expression Dad makes, it doesn’t work. “Is there something going on between you and your brother I should know about?”
My stomach lurches. No, Dad, I just found out Noah’s been screwing my arch nemesis for the past eight years and apparently trusts me so little that he’s been hiding who he is from me our entire lives. Oh, and I also lost my virginity to his best friend…
I don’t actually say that, though, because no matter how hurt I am, I’d never out Noah. I’ll just add this secret to the ever-growing pile of Dunn deceptions.
“Everything’s great,” I say, throwing the car into park. I press my lips together, reaching for the door handle, but Dad stops me with an outstretched arm.
“You know,” he says after letting me stew in my own guilt for another agonizing twenty seconds, “not being able to look someone in the eye isn’t an issue when you’re being truthful.”
I force myself to meet his gaze, catching the tail end of the circular motion he’s making with his index finger to point at my mouth.
“And that thing you just did with your lips?” he continues. “ That’s called a tell. It’s an unconscious mannerism someone makes when they’re lying.”
“Good to know,” I sass. Blood boiling, I fold my arms. How dare he demand honesty when he refuses to give me the same. “I’d have thought someone with all that useful knowledge would be better at hiding secrets from their daughter.”
He sucks in a sharp breath, dropping his head as he rubs his calloused palms on his faded blue jeans. “Fair enough.”
Silence surrounds us like a suffocating blanket.
A minute goes by. And then another.
“Seriously, Dad? That’s all you’re going to say?” An incredulous laugh bubbles out of my throat. “Well, one of us needs to start being honest, so I guess now’s as good a time as any to tell you I got accepted into UT and I’m going.”
“No, you’re not.” His tone is relaxed and slightly annoyed, like he thinks I’m saying this just to get a rise out of him.
With a huff, I whip out my phone and scroll to the documents in my admissions portal. I turn the screen to show him, a sick wave of satisfaction rolling through me as his eyes widen before realizing too late that he’s not even looking at me…
“Dad?” I lean forward, trying to catch his eye, but his attention is fixed on the front of Rib Cage.
“Who the fuck drew that?” he growls.
“Dad,” I say again, this time much more forcefully. “I’m trying to talk to you?—
“Dammit, Willa, you’re not going to UT and you’re not leaving Deadwood. End of discussion.”
He doesn’t even give me time to respond before he jumps out of the truck and stomps toward the front door of Rib Cage where the bright-red outline of a cross is painted on the bar door. I move to follow, the strong chemical scent of spray paint stinging my nostrils the second I step outside. I’d been so entrenched in our conversation I hadn’t realized the parking lot was empty…
Where the hell is everyone ?
Bringing my hand to my brow, I squint against the bright sun and scan the parking lot, spotting the same red cross adorning the trunk of a nearby oak tree, a flapping sheet of paper stapled to its center. Dirt crunches beneath my boots as I close the distance and tear the parchment off the bark.
“It’s a note from Kane,” I call out after skimming the flyer. “He’s inviting the town to Divine Mercy for an open house so people can check out the renovations this weekend.”
Dad rushes over and rips the paper from my hand, his face contorting with rage as he reads it for himself. Tossing it on the ground, he laughs, the sound dry and hollow. “You think you’re ready to go out into the world on your own? How could you be when you don’t even recognize danger staring you in the face?”
His eyes are wild, his chest rising and falling so fast he’s almost hyperventilating. I jump when he throws his hand in the direction of the cross. “Look at it, Willa. Don’t you think that looks a little familiar ?”
Body trembling, I glance at the tree again, but I don’t notice anything different. Sure, the way the red paint dripped on one side kind of looks like blood, but otherwise there’s nothing unique about it. I take a step away from him. I’ve never seen my dad react this fervently before. It’s…unsettling.
I shrug. “It just looks like a cross.”
“Look again ,” he says adamantly, sweat dripping down his temples. “Kane also put a neon-red cross up at Divine Mercy exactly like that. The sick bastard is toying with us.”
I glance at the red paint, cold recognition crawling up my spine as I hesitantly reach under my shirt, grazing my thumb over the raised outline my mother carved into my back fourteen years ago.
My muscles tighten uncomfortably, but I shake my head. Kane’s never seen my scars. And, despite what Ryker said about his brother’s odd fascination with what happened to me, the thought that Kane would model the symbol of his church after what my mother did to me is too morose to consider .
“Every church for a thousand miles has something similar,” I mumble, but the wobble in my voice makes my declaration less than convincing. So I try again, unsure whether I’m attempting to persuade him or me. “It’s just a coincidence.”
Knuckles blanched, my father points toward the bar door. “The hell it is. The image of your tiny burned and bleeding body is scarred into my retina. I see it every time I close my eyes and every time I catch a glimpse of your hair or scars. I don’t know what sick game Kane’s playing at, but I’m damn sure goin’ to find out. Get in the truck, I’m taking you home.”
“Dad, we still need to talk about Austin and?—”
“For once in your life can you do as you’re told, Willa?” A vein appears in his forehead, the tendons in his neck straining as his skin flushes and little beads of sweat pop up on his temple.
Every cell in my body tries to refuse, but Dad using the condescending-rage tone he normally reserves for my brother has my shoulders slumping and feet moving of their own accord.
I don’t protest when he snatches the keys out of my hand, and I don’t bother arguing when he drops me off at home without saying another word. I’m still not entirely convinced that cross has anything to do with me, but his reaction made it more than clear that I’m not the only one with lasting marks from what happened fourteen years ago.
The difference is, while my injuries have scarred over, my father’s wounds are still open and festering. He’ll never move on with the constant reminder of what happened staring him in the face, and unfortunately for the both of us…that constant reminder is me .