Chapter 23 #2
A tremor starts to run over my body. I needed to see my dad today. Now, I’m afraid the man who lives here, the one who raised me, is going to feel like a stranger.
I drum up a lick of courage, forcing my weak limbs to keep moving forward. “I can’t stay long. Thank you for warning me.”
A faint smile splays her lips as I walk by. The hall feels darker than normal, my vision slightly blurry. I’m on the verge of turning and running back, not sure if I can handle this right now. My feet keep taking me deeper in, and the smell of bleached linoleum grows stronger.
As I approach the door, I take a deep breath, steadying myself for what awaits me on the other side.
He’s sitting on the bed, face turned to the window. A young male nurse is standing near the door, arms crossed. He nods at me as I enter.
“Dad?” I ask, praying he looks over with a smile.
At first, he doesn’t react. As I get closer, he turns to face me. My heart sinks as he observes me coolly, the usual smile nowhere in sight.
For the first time in my life, my father doesn’t recognize me.
“I want my wife. If you aren’t here to tell me where she is, I don’t want to see you.”
I swallow, inching a tad closer. “Dad, it’s Kate . . . your daughter.”
His brows scrunch up. “You people aren’t going to convince me that I don’t remember my life. I’m married, and I have a little girl. You’re a grown adult.”
I shake my head, ice in my veins. “I’m Kate. I’m your little girl . . . I’m just a few years older than you remember.”
He looks away, vigorously shaking his head. “You aren’t my little girl. She’ll be two years old next month. If you aren’t here to tell me where my wife is, then leave.”
I break, a tear sliding down my cheek. “Your wife is dead! She died twenty-one years ago. It’s just been me and you since then.” The moisture wells up in my eyes.
He rises from the bed, eyes blazing. “You don’t know anything! I said to leave! Get out of here!”
He points to the door, and the nurse standing on guard moves between us.
“You should go, miss.”
A sob is caught in my throat as I run down the hallway. I don’t stop to say good-bye to Sandra. I keep running until I’m out the door and in the parking lot.
The SUV is still idling. I open the door, sliding into the seat as the tears stream down my cheeks.
Jackson doesn’t speak to me. He turns on the music, seeming to know I don’t want him listening to me ugly cry. I don’t think the weekend could’ve possibly ended on a worse note.
My face is puffy and red when he finally pulls up to Mel’s apartment. She’ll be back later, and I’m sure I’ll cry more when I tell her about everything. For now, I don’t have any tears left.
“Thanks for the ride,” I mumble as he carries my suitcase inside.
“Anytime.”
“You can just leave it here,” I tell him on the landing as I stick my key in.
He nods, hesitating for a moment before he turns around to walk back. The door swings open, and I lug the heavy bag inside. It’s dark and messy, as usual. I glance around. The reminder that I don’t even have my own apartment is another heavy weight on my shoulders.
“I’m going to shower and drink a bottle of wine,” I whisper to Speckles, lifting him out of his tank. “Next time I get invited on a trip with my boss, remind me of my place in this world, okay, buddy?”
I gently put him back in, hearing a noise behind me.
“Mel?” I turn around, and a screech tears from my throat.
A large man in a black ski mask lunges for me, the glint of a knife in his hand coming down. I stumble back, tripping over something while I scream at the top of my lungs.
He grunts, plunging the knife into my upper arm, narrowly missing my chest as I crash to the ground. The pain is agonizing. I cry out as I reach for the wound. Warm blood is seeping out, but the knife is still inside me.
I’m squealing like a wounded animal, terrified and thrashing on the ground. The man descends on me, attempting to grab the knife again.
The door splinters open, banging loudly against the wall. I turn just in time to see a look of pure hatred on the face of my boss.
Luke?!
A second later, he jumps on the attacker, colliding with his body inches from mine. They fall to the ground as one, smashing into the dining table and sending plates and cups everywhere. Glass from an empty wine bottle shatters as it makes contact with the floor.
Luke and the man in black are causing further mayhem in the small apartment. Their only weapons are their fists, but they use them against each other with lethal force. Luke’s knuckles were already cut open, but they mercilessly ram into the man’s face.
The stranger finally removes himself from Luke’s grip, reaching for a dining room chair.
He raises it up, and I cry out again as he brings it down hard over Luke’s head.
Luke blocks the blow, but the force still knocks him back into the wall, leaving a hole in the Sheetrock.
He rebounds with a sickly smile, blood dripping from his bloodied lips.
Does this man not feel pain?!
The blood is trickling faster out of the knife embedded in my arm. The fear, adrenaline, and the climax of emotions all become too much.
My vision begins to blur, limbs weighted down with invisible sandbags. I whimper as I see Luke get shoved against the wall, another knife in the hand of the masked man. He shoves it up against his throat, and my world fades to black.