Chapter 25
The world narrows down to his voice. Kara feels like time has suddenly gone still, frozen. She’s not an independent young woman anymore; she’s a lost girl in danger of pissing off her father. The man who controlled the majority of her life.
Her mind twists, realigns. She must remember how she is required to act. She must become that tired, bitter being that tries to never set him off. Kara must remember how to be that person, to quell the short-tempered aspects of herself.
She must remember to not act like him.
Charlie was never quite fond of how Kara’s personality shaped as she aged. He’d never quite liked seeing his own anger reflected back at him. It was exhausting, Kara knew that damn well.
“I thought…” she quickly refrains from saying that she thought he had been someone else. That wouldn’t have gone well. His fragile ego would have been unnecessarily threatened. “I didn’t mean to say that. It was a mistake. I’m s-s…”
She has to force the word ‘sorry’ out. It feels unnatural and sickly on her tongue. She feels nauseous. Her heart is racing.
Her hands shake like leaves.
Charlie makes a dismissive noise on his end of the phone. Then, he says very casually, “You’re very hard to get a hold of, do you know that?”
Danger ahead.
“Well, ah. Work. It’s been so busy. I’m at a real firm now, you know. I never- I don’t suppose I told you, did I?” She examines every word that leaves her lips, makes sure they are utterly unoffensive to him.
“I’d heard.” Simple, cool words.
Before Kara can figure out what he wants to hear, her father speaks again.
“Do you miss me?” He has a sly, entitled way of asking, like he expects only one answer and if he doesn’t get it, he’ll lose his fucking mind.
“Oh, of course I miss you,” she gushes to him like her life depends on it. For a moment, she almost believes herself.
If she says it enough, she can make it real.
There’s movement in the corner of Kara’s vision. Suddenly, she remembers that she isn’t alone; Nick is still here with her. The backstabbing bastard. Nick is giving her a strange look. He’s looking at her like she’s acting extremely odd. He’s never seen this side of her. No one likely has. No one Kara now knows, anyway.
“That’s good to hear. You know, I almost thought you were, oh, avoiding my calls. You wouldn’t possibly do such a wretched thing, would you?”
Quickly, afraid of making him assume her lack of affection for him, Kara replies earnestly, “I didn’t mean to. Not answer.”
He chuckles. “Of course, you didn’t. What sort of worthless daughter would screen her own father’s calls?”
A sick little, nervous laugh crawls out of Kara’s throat. Worthless daughter. Me. I’m her. “Why? Why have you called?”
“Do I really need a reason?” He asks, sounding hurt by her careful insinuation.
Yes, actually. You always have a reason. It’s never good.
A whisper of bitterness, anger, drifts just under Kara’s skin. A hint of her dark emotions from before her father had called her.
“I mean, it’s been years.” A sliver of ugliness faintly creeps into her tone. “I really can’t help but wonder.”
She can almost hear the false smile on his lips when he says, “Maybe I wanted to hear the sound of your voice.”
At first, Kara thinks, you don’t. Then, the lonely little girl inside of her lifts her head in hope that her father is telling her the truth. That he loves her, that he misses her. That sort of hope is dangerous.
“Tell me about this job of yours,” he says suddenly. Very earnest and open. “You’ve been successful, I hope?”
Shifting away from Nick’s gaze, irritated that he’s witnessing this phone call, Kara hunches over herself, clutching the phone to her ear. She gets up and strides towards the bathroom, looking for some privacy. She shuts the door as Nick frowns at her from the bed, looking put out, blue eyes narrowed.
Too fucking bad.
Once alone, Kara starts telling her father about how she’s been working criminal cases and such. She tells him briefly about the recent one, though she omits the fact that she actually lost the case. That still stings.
He makes a few interested noises as she tells him about how things have been, but she senses he’s getting to his limit. He’s never been good at faking his interest for long, but sometimes Kara likes to pretend that he cares. She’s always wanted to believe he feels a sliver of affection for her.
Switching the conversation over, she asks him about how he’s doing and if his parents are doing well. A safe topic. It’s always better if he talks about himself. Kara realizes that much of it is likely exaggerated and false, considering his very high opinion of himself. She plays along, fawning over him in a sweet voice; the way she knows he likes.
Why does she do it? Because when she does, he practically vibrates with positive energy, happy with her. It almost feels like adoration. Even if it’s a poor ghost of it.
Towards the end of his long story, his tone shifts in a cagey manner that puts Kara on edge immediately.
“There’s something else…” he starts saying slowly.
Here it comes. Kara can almost taste disappointment on her tongue, bitter and acidic. “What’s up? Are you alright?”
“Well. Funny you should mention that.” He pauses carefully. “There’s a small matter with the police.”
Oh. Oh . Mentally, Kara imagines glass shattering and she exhales very slowly, trying to contain the slash of anger that burns through her hotly. She can’t stop the way her voice goes deadly flat. “What did you do?”
He gasps, as if stabbed by her words. “Why do you assume I’ve done something? You always assume the worst. You’re overreacting, as usual. It’s just a small thing…”
“It’s never a small matter with you!” Kara cries out viciously, her voice echoing back at her. Well, her calm was nice while it lasted. Her nails dig into the palm of her free hand and she wants to punch the mirror. She wants to dance on glass. “What’s going on? Do you want to tell me why you really called?”
There’s always a reason. She knew it all along.
He pauses and Kara can imagine him with his tongue in his cheek as he considers how he’s going to spin whatever horror he’s about to tell her. She can imagine him with his dark eyes looking upward as he crafts something fast, thinking of ways to spin things in a not-so-awful light.
“Don’t take that tone with me. Besides, it’s just an annoyance, really.” Her father’s tone is light, almost extremely casual. “I’m being investigated for embezzlement.”
Kara blinks, almost wondering if she heard him wrong. He’s not a stupid man, surely he didn’t just say what she thought he said? Then again, he’s a smart man with a devious, calculating mind. Perhaps it isn’t as far-fetched as Kara would hope.
In his head, he probably thought he was brilliant enough to get away with it. The more Kara pictures it, the more horrified she becomes. Suddenly, it doesn’t seem ridiculous anymore.
“Did you do it?” Kara asks with gritted teeth, staring at the wall as if she’s ready to blow a hole in it.
“Did I what…?” There’s a smile in his voice and it’s infuriating.
Losing her temper, Kara says slowly, “Did. You. Do. It?”
There’s a soft little chuckle, so familiar that it nearly crawls down Kara’s spine. “Who can say?”
Cupping her hand over the mouth piece, Kara screams her frustration, unable to hold it in. How could he do this?
There’s a knock at the door and Nick asks, “Is everything alright in there? Kara?”
“Go away!” She hisses like snake, distracted, already thinking through how her father is about to ruin her life all over again.
“Kara, I thought I heard something strange-” her father says into her ear.
It takes all of her willpower to calm herself, forcing a fake grin onto her face, as if it will help her believe the words that are about to come out of her mouth.
“Oh, just a mad woman screeching at her boyfriend across the street,” Kara lies as brightly as she can. So brightly it almost kills her. “This has been a lovely chat, but I don’t really see how this has anything to do with me. Best of luck to you, with, you know, what you may or may not have done. Bye-”
“ Don’t you hang up the goddamn phone ,” Charlie snaps quite suddenly, like a monster reaching out of a dark hole to attack unsuspecting prey. “I’ll say when we’re done talking.” It’s the voice from her nightmares, the vicious growl that always precludes punishment and pain.
Kara feels her muscles freeze, her throat working.
“You’ll listen to me and you’ll listen good, you ungrateful little bitch,” her father says cruelly, the monster inside of him crawling out of his stupid external costume of pleasantness. Like claws, peeling off a false flesh, revealing the creature within. “After everything I’ve ever given you, done for you…the least you can do is support me in these tough times.”
“There’s nothing I can do-”
“SHUT YOUR MOUTH!” He sounds like he’s panting with fury on the other side of line and Kara can almost imagine how his eyes must be fully black right now. “You’ll fly your little ass down here. I’m only being investigated at the moment, but it will only be a matter of time before…well. You will do this. Pro-bono.”
Is he absolutely out of his mind? The world spins.
“I don’t have the skill to represent you alone in something this serious!” She yells at him, desperate, feeling like he’s dragging her into the room with him, wherever he is. “I can’t afford to do it for free either! I’m not made of money!”
He curses at her very creatively, things Kara has heard before. Each word hurts the same as always, no matter how hard she tries to convince herself that it isn’t true, he’s just trying to hurt her.
The doorknob is jiggling.
She makes a sound of despair that echoes off the bathroom tiles loudly. Her father feeds off of the weakness in her armor, only digging into her deeper, saying things to degrade and cheapen her worth as a human. It’s like she’s back in to her childhood home, the corners of her vision starting to melt and fade.
The bathroom door whips open and Nick is standing there, the irritation on his face melting away when he sees Kara sitting on the ground by the bathtub, her eyes full of tears.
She’s in the middle of pleading, “ Daddy , please don’t…” not wanting to hear anymore, feeling trapped, feeling like her father is standing right next to her, screaming in her face. Like there aren’t miles between them anymore.
Nick stares down at her with an open mouth as she says ‘daddy’. Kara thinks vaguely that she’s called him ‘dad’ a few times, usually in a mocking fashion, but certainly not like this. Not pleading, not crying. His eyes narrow and he stiffens. Kara is too far gone in her own drama to really care that he seems to think he has some sort of competition on the phone. How could his mind completely pass the fact that it really is her actual father on the line?
Quick, before she can stop him, Nick grabs the phone from her and says rudely to the mouthpiece, tone possessive and demanding, “Who the hell is this?”
Kara gapes at him in horror. What did he just do?
There’s a pause in her father’s yelling. Then, she hears him again. “Who the hell am I? Bastard, who the hell are you ? I’m her fucking father you little shit and you’d better give the phone back to that unworthy slut before I tear you a new asshole.”
Nick’s eyes widen in shock. The look on his face might have been funny in any other situation, but at the moment he doesn’t even look like he was expecting what was just said to him. Nick, meet Charlie. My dad, Kara thinks with sick humor.
Hoisting herself to her feet, she takes the phone back from Nick’s hand, because he seems shocked by the sheer vulgarity leveled against him. Well, now he knows where she gets it from. “Dad,” she says hoarsely, “Calm down. Please, let’s talk about this.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down! Kara, who is that knob? Are you slutting around again? Just like your no-good mother. Goddamn bitch. Is that why you haven’t taken my calls? Pathetic . You’re disgusting-”
Kara’s insides are shriveling, curling up like they’re ready to die in a deep grave.
“Stop talking to me like that before I come find you and rip your stupid face off!” Kara snarls, turning red, fed up. “I’ve had it up to here with you, already! None of this shit matters! You get what you deserve and you can go rot in prison for all I care! I was free of you! I was fucking free !”
That calms his rant momentarily. Kara hears a crash somewhere on his side of the phone and figures that he’s broken something, channeling his rage into something else. When he speaks again, he’s in control of himself once more.
“You know why this matters,” he says to her carefully, slyly. “If I go to prison…well…maybe you shouldn’t have co-signed on my mortgage…the car loan…gambling debts…you get where I’m going with this, princess?”
Kara goes cold, realizing what he’s getting at. Holy shit . It can’t be possible.
Numbly, she replies, “Stop. I get it. Just. Give me a few days to set my life in order.”
“That’s my girl,” he says with sheer pleasure. As if he just won the lotto. “I knew you would come around. You always do. Such a good girl .”
Kara shudders sickly.
“I expect to see you down here soon. Don’t screen my call next time. I’ll be in touch,” he finishes lightly, as if they never fought at all.
“I’ll count the seconds down until we speak again,” Kara replies numbly, hating herself.
“I miss you,” Charlie says expectantly.
“I miss you so much.” Kara can’t even taste the words as they leave her mouth.
The line goes dead with finality and Kara sags, like a puppet with her strings cut.
Ignoring the horrified look that Nick is giving her, ignoring the humiliation building in her chest, Kara makes sure her clothes are properly straightened before she gathers her shoes, getting ready to escape. She can’t deal with anyone right now. She feels like drowning herself in the bathtub.
Maybe she will.
“Kara, what the hell just happened?” Nick follows her out of the bathroom, eyes wide.
“None of your damn business, that’s what,” she hisses furiously, feeling her face flush.
That was embarrassing. Just like when she was a girl and Charlie went off at her in front of whatever friend had come home with her from school that day. They usually never came back to her place again. Sometimes they never spoke to her again, so horrified by the reality of her home life.
Kara tries to leave, but Nick grabs her in his arms, looking down at her with confused eyes. “Let me go,” Kara says as she tries to squirm away.
“Stop.” He says it calmly, studying her. “Was that…was that really your father? Kara, do you…do you need help?”
She cackles coldly. Is she going insane? It sure feels like it. “Do I need help? Oh, are you offering? I needed help twenty years ago, it’s a little too late now.”
Nick’s face goes emotionless. “You don’t need to brush me off. I know what it’s like to grow up in a rough home.”
Is he serious? He must be kidding, absolutely kidding. “Shut your ridiculous Trust Fund Baby mouth,” Kara says nastily, shoving him away from her. “Don’t try to pretend you understand anything about me or how I grew up. I come from a seriously fucked up home. You have no idea.”
He scowls at her, fingers flexing. Nick’s head tilts slightly, giving him a dangerous edge. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
This is rich, coming from him. Kara sneers, feeling ugly, all her awful emotions just lashing out inside of her. “Well. Are you going to tell me about your oh so sad past or are you going to keep it bottled up, as always?”
Nick’s face remains stony, silent like a grave.
Grinning like a monster, Kara says, “I’d thought that would be the case. Poor Nick. What a troubled boy you must be. You want to use and abuse everyone else, but God forbid you let anyone else see inside of you. You are just…fantastic, you know that? Fuck .”
He’s watching her carefully, missing nothing. He’s listening to her tone of voice, watching the emotions flitting over her face. “What is this?” Nick gestures between himself and Kara. “What sick little game are you playing? I’m beginning to think this whole affair has never ever been about me. It’s about him .”
Somehow, it hits close to home and Kara stumbles on her way to the door. How does he always see through her so quickly?
Kara puts up her own defensive wall in response. “Do you even care if that’s the reason? Really? Maybe I get off on the fact that you are older, meaner, and a have bit of violence in you that reminds me of him. I’m a motherfucking whore, you’ve always thought that about me from the moment you first saw me, walking down that street in the middle of the night. If that scares you, you’re welcome to fuck off. Just. Like. Everyone. Else.”
That handsome, strong jawline of his tenses precariously. Kara can’t tell if she’s hurt him, disturbed him, or surprised him. She doesn’t frankly give a care. His rusty, raspy voice still makes her core heat as he says, “If you’re trying to scare me away, it’s not working.” His pupils dilate slightly. “You’ve always been more than a whore to me.”
It should make her feel better. Yet, it doesn’t.
“Is that so? Well, this is it,” Kara says hoarsely, gesturing to herself. “This is me. You’ve seen it all now, yeah? He made me into this…this thing . This bag of flesh and bone and rage. I broke a long time ago. Do you still want to associate with trash like me, rich boy?”
His eyes are strangely dark as he observes her. “Maybe that’s what I like about you. The darkest parts of you are what I want.”
That strikes a chord in Kara’s chest and she stares at him, her heart pounding. She thinks of all sorts of rebuttals, but nothing comes to mind. Instead, she grabs her things and walks out the door, shaking with emotion, yet feeling numb.
That night, Gale calls.
“I’m sorry to hear about the case, friend. It isn’t your fault.” Gale sounds calm, cozy. Supportive. If only Kara felt open to such things. Instead, she feels like drugs and razorblades. “Derrick should have checked out your client’s background much better. The jury can be fickle…any doubt makes them back away from prosecuting. I hope you’re not too upset.”
Rubbing her face, Kara scowls. She considers telling Gale that her new partner is part of Kara’s current woes, that he’s the one that did a shady dealing behind closed doors with the judge, getting his secondary case closed. “I’m sort of in an awful mood, Gale. Can we talk tomorrow?”
Kara has more than a failed case weighing heavily on her chest. Suffocating her. Crushing her.
“Yes, I understand. I just worry about you. It can be hard for a young woman to succeed without good support behind her.”
Annoyed, Kara grouses, “Gale…”
“Oh, stop! I know you’re tough. But I prefer supporting you and helping you to be the best and most successful you can possibly be. I feel strongly about young female professionals, you know.”
Kara is well aware; she’s heard this so many times before. It’s touching, but she isn’t in the mood.
“I called for another reason. I wanted to invite you to a party at our office. Kind of a big happy hour gathering. I’d like to see you and catch up. Especially considering-” Gale pauses suddenly.
“Considering what?”
Gale sighs tiredly. “Dieter.”
The name makes Kara’s stomach flip unexpectedly, even through the vodka buzz she already has going. Impressive. “If you’re asking me for him, I’m absolutely, unequivocally not going. He’s horrid.”
“That’s why I want to see you. We need to talk.” The serious tone in Gale’s voice makes Kara freeze.
She has bigger problems haunting her now, bigger problems than Dietrich. Pursing her lips, Kara says, “I’ll think on it.”
“Thanks, dear. Get some rest, don’t beat yourself up about this case. We all lose a few times. The real strength is being able to stand back up and fight another day.”
After she hangs up the phone, Kara sits on her couch and stares blankly out the window, her mind already back on darker things. Her father. The corner he’s shoved her into. How he’s effortlessly weaseled his way back into her life with a terrible threat.
She’s always known his vices. The alcohol. The gambling. The rage and the fights.
She should have never cosigned on anything with him. Not even to get him out of her hair.
If he goes down, she goes down with him, because all his debts will shift over to her. Stress, horrible, crushing stress bears down on her. Kara’s chest hurts, her heart pounding so hard. He wants her to help him, pro-bono. Of course! But she’s no good, as it were. Look at the case she just lost.
That’s not your fault though. You aren’t bad, Gale said so!
Despair creeps into Kara, reminding her that she’ll never be free of Charlie Hayes. Not until one of them is dead.
Sickly, she wonders if that’s why her mother slit her own wrists up and down like a butcher’s delight, leaving a gothic horror all over her kitchen floor.
To escape him and his memory.