Page 9 of Dry as a Fish (Chaos God Sugar and Spice Companion Shorts #3)

Chapter

Seven

DELPHON

I didn't know what I was expecting when Sloane explained what I needed to do for her, but I wasn't expecting her father, Tom, to be so.

.. awkward. We were in a room her mother had called the man cave before leaving us alone in it.

A single bare bulb swung overhead, its filament humming softly as it cast long shadows across the reclaimed-wood bar against the far wall.

Against one wall, a leather-faced recliner slumped into a corner.

In another corner was a heavy workbench with an array of tools: wrenches lined up on magnetized strips, a battered vise bolted to the corner, and jars of spare nuts and bolts gleaming in the strange lighting.

There was a light on the workbench, but it wasn't on.

The far wall was painted matte black, chalk scrawls tracking different dates and names, but I couldn't make sense of it.

A glass-frosted mini-fridge nestled beneath the chalkboard wall.

Sloane's father, a portly man with facial hair that was a five o'clock shadow on its way to becoming a beard, stood up again. He had just sat down in the armchair, but then popped back up to his feet, looking up at me like he was trying to decide what to say.

It was okay if he didn't know what to say; Sloane had already told me what she needed me to do.

"I've come to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage," I said. "I wish to court her with the intention of marrying her when she is ready."

"What makes you think you're worthy of my only girl?" Tom asked, walking over to the workbench as if he was going to do something there, but changed his mind, turning back to face me, crossing his arms over his chest.

Sloane had given me the answer to that one, too. She said her father always talked about judging a man based on the work they could do.

"I don't expect to convince you with words," I said. "I'm the type of man who would rather prove myself with actions. I'm here to show you my value through my labor."

"Actions, huh?" Tom asked. "You think you're going to come onto my land, into my house, and convince me to give away my only daughter just because you know how to work? I have enough sons. What I want to know is why you think I'm going to let you anywhere near my daughter after you devalued her."

"Devalued?" I asked, confused. Sloane hadn't told me what to say in response to that.

She said I just needed to be willing to do some hard labor.

She said her dad would give me a hard time, but if I impressed him by getting all the work done, he would approve of me courting, which means I would be able to come visit her here at her home more easily, as long as I helped out with things every time I came .

"You think my son didn't tell me about the getup that girl was in when she showed up?" Tom said, his face turning red as he raised his voice. "That tart has been missing for weeks now! You think I believe that she would spend weeks away from the protection of her family and not get into trouble?"

"She was in trouble, but I helped her get away from that place and brought her back to you," I said.

"All women are born sluts and it is up to the men in their lives to keep them in hand," Tom spat out.

"Eve took the apple and got us all kicked out of the garden.

Trouble finds them the moment they leave their fathers.

Let me guess, you weren't the one who took her virtue, you were just the one to pick up the trash afterwards. "

"Don't speak about Sloane that way," I said, my voice quiet as I finally understood what he was saying. Anger snaked up my spine.

"I'm just saying what everyone will say," Tom said. "No God fearing child runs off and leaves her family like that. She should have stayed here, stayed where she was safe and protected. We would have found her a good man."

"I am a good man," I said.

"I'm no fool," Tom said. "Vitiligo? My wife might be polite, bless her soul, but you look like a grade A freak to me.

You think I'd ever let someone like you have my daughter you are out of your goddamn mind.

I'm not having grandchildren who look like freaks!

My daughter is going to stay here, and if we can't find a man who will overlook her being defiled, her brothers will make sure she doesn't starve.

We're going to keep her safe if we have to lock her in her room to do it! "

I didn't respond.

There was no point in talking to a man who would say things like that .

Instead, I turned and walked out of the room, heading through the house towards the sound of the song that reverberated through my heart.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Tom yelled behind me. "Get back in here! We aren't done!"

I walked out into the kitchen. Sloane was sitting in a chair, her mom's arm around her shoulder, as she looked utterly miserable.

There were four younger boys on the other side of Sloane's mom, sitting quietly.

A bright light shone on all of them from the phone that was propped up on the table with a small stand.

When she spotted me, Sloan straightened, reaching out to tap on the phone.

"What did he say?" Sloane asked.

I didn't want to repeat the words, because I knew saying them would hurt her. But I couldn't keep them to myself, because if I did that, if I left them silent, she might stay here, with these parents who didn't treat her with the love she deserved to feel.

"He said that you were a slut," I said. "He said I was a freak and that he was going to lock you in your room until he found a good man to take pity on you for being defiled."

One of the boys giggled and immediately stopped when Sloane's mother glared at him.

"No, he didn't mean that," Sloane's mother rose to her feet. "Just give him time to think about it. He'll realize that a funny-looking fellow like you is a better choice than letting everyone know you've lost your virtue. If we get you married real quick, they won't even know!"

"Is this really where you want to be?" I asked Sloane, ignoring everyone else. "Is this really how you want to be treated? "

"This is where she is staying!" Tom called out from behind me. "Now you get out of my house before I put a bullet in you!"

Everyone gasped.

"Boys! Come with me!" Sloane's mother cried out as she grabbed two of the boys by the shirt, dragging them with her as she pulled them across the kitchen away from me. "Let your father deal with this!"

I didn't look back over my shoulder, even at the sound of metal clicking against metal.

Sloane's eyes went wide as she looked behind me. "Daddy..." she whispered.

"Don't tell me you love this man you damn fool," Tom said. "I swear to God I will put a bullet in him if he ever steps foot on my land again!"

"If I loved him, would it make a difference?" Sloane asked, slowly rising to her feet. I didn't look back at Tom, I just waited for her to answer my question.

"No!" Tom said. "There is no way in hell I'm giving you to him."

"You can't give me away," Sloane said. "I'm a person."

"You're my daughter and I decide what is best for you, and he ain't it," Tom spat out.

"Sloane," I said, pulling her attention back to me. "Is this really where you want to be?"

She looked at me, a shimmer in her wide eyes. "Where else can I go?"

"You can go with me," I said. "You can come home with me. You can stay with my family until you decide what you want to do. I will help you."

"Like hell she can!" Tom shouted. "This is your last warning! Get out of my house! Sloane, you get yourself away from him. "

"Do you want me to leave you here?" I asked her.

"No," she said.

I opened my mouth and let my rage flow into my song.

Sloane's eyes grew wider, and a flicker of happiness rushed through me.

There was a small part of me that doubted, just because she was a mundane, how could she actually be my heartsong?

But as everyone else in the room relaxed, their eyes glazing over, Tom's gun dropping down to his side, Sloane remained unaffected.

When I finished singing, she walked over and gently took the shotgun out of her father's hands.

She carefully unloaded it and set it down on the table.

No one reacted as they all stood there, soft smiles on their face as they were lost to the peace and quiet of the boundless currents of the music in their own hearts.

"How long will it last?" she asked.

"Until we leave," I said.

She reached out and took my hand in hers, and my heart burst with the brilliance of happiness.

"Let's go then," she said.