Page 2 of Kill Shot

Father Knows Best

Seb

After taking a deep, steadying breath, Seb threw open the door to his father’s home office, marched in, and sat down in front of the large oak desk. He even folded his arms for good measure, making sure that he looked as stern and resolute as possible.

It was an exercise in futility, of course. Everything he knew about looking unyielding had been learned from the man sitting across from him.

Pablo Altamirano was not a terribly imposing man, but he made up for it with a quiet firmness of conviction that oozed out of every pore. All he had to do was look up from his laptop and quirk a single eyebrow for his son to begin squirming.

With a disgruntled sigh, Seb rose to his feet and began to pace.

“Is there a problem?” his father asked after a while.

“They’re suffocating!” Seb flung his arms out dramatically. “No matter where I go, they’re always following me around. It feels like I’m never free from them.”

“They don’t follow you around when you’re here,” his father pointed out.

“You know what I mean,” Seb shot back. “The only reason they don’t follow me around here is because they’re constantly patrolling outside to make sure nobody gets in… or out.”

His father gave him a long-suffering look. “We have had this conversation before, Seb. A few times actually, if memory serves.”

Seb knew that he was intruding on his father’s work, and he even felt a little bad about it, but he’d known that coming in, and he wasn’t going to let it get in the way of saying his piece.

“Do I need a dozen men following me every time I step out of this house? Or go to the store?”

“Yes.” His father closed his laptop with a sigh. “The full dozen don’t even follow you in. Half of them stay with the cars, right?”

“You think six armed men in suits following me around the grocery store is reasonable?”

His father considered that for a moment. “All told, yes.”

“Ugh.” Seb flopped down into the chair once more. His dad always managed to make him sound like he was the unreasonable one for wanting the smallest bit of normalcy. It had been like this for years. Every request for independence turned into a debate about “safety” or “responsibility.”

“And do they have to follow me to class? Do you really think that someone is going to kidnap me in the middle of my sociology lectures?”

“Better safe than sorry,” his father said coolly. “Is there anything else?”

Seb groaned. “You do realize my school is a university, not a private military compound, right? People stare. They talk.”

“What does it matter?” came the dry reply. “The administration signed off on it, so unless you’re fielding complaints from the student body, you’ll survive. Like you have till now. You only have a few more weeks until you graduate anyway.”

Frustrated, Seb simply stared at his father, trying to channel more of a frown than a pout. He wanted to feel like an equal rather than the little kid that his father felt the need to overprotect.

That, apparently, was what it took. His father sighed, running a hand through his gray-streaked hair and staring up at the ceiling.

“Look, I’ll think about reducing it to two bodyguards directly following you, but the rest are still going to tail you at a distance.”

Seb resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It wasn’t as much of a concession as Seb wanted, but he couldn’t tell if there was an opportunity to plead further or if his father was just going to shoot anything else he said down.

“Go on, spit it out,” his dad said, picking up on his intense fidgeting. “But don’t tell me you actually want to move into the dorms again. That is absolutely non-negotiable.”

Seb suppressed a sigh of relief. Good, his father hadn’t guessed what he was actually going to ask.

“No, it’s not that,” Seb said. “Staying home is fine. It’s just…”

He was hoping that accepting the one restriction would make his father look more kindly on his request, but as always, his face was inscrutable.

“It’s just that all of the security makes it impossible for me to get authentic interviews with my subjects for my social work research paper. Once they see the guards and the cars, they don’t want to open up to me.”

His dad scoffed. “Absolutely not. There is no way I am going to let you go into those neighborhoods without protection. I’d sooner let you go to school and the dorms unattended, and trust me, I am not going to let you do either of those things.”

“Dad, come on—”

“No, this discussion is over.” His father didn’t rise to his feet and loom over his son.

He wasn’t that kind of man. His stare was all he needed to drive the point home.

“You don’t know those places like I do. I’ve kept you sheltered from them, yes, so I don’t blame you for not understanding exactly how dangerous they can be, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you gallivant about and learn your lessons the hard way. The price for that is simply too high.”

Even though he knew it was futile, Seb couldn’t resist talking back. He barely even got his mouth open before his father cut him off once more.

“And if what you’re really concerned about is getting authentic conversations with those people, then you wouldn’t get those anyway.

They wouldn’t open up to you, not in the way you’re dreaming of, not even if you walked in there alone.

You’re not one of them, and they won’t trust you.

Some of them will be polite to you, sure, but you stand out as an outsider. ”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Seb snapped, leaping to his feet. “You haven’t even given me a chance. For all you know, they will be happy to talk to me if I show I’m just a regular guy like anyone else. I can blend in! All I’m asking for is a chance.”

“No.” The answer was resolute. “It’s for your own safety, Seb.”

It was always about safety . From elementary through middle school, Seb was homeschooled. Every friend he made in high school—and even now in college—was scrutinized to a fault.

Everything in his life was about playing it safe. Which was probably why, even at twenty-one, Seb barely felt like he’d actually lived.

This assignment was the only real excitement he’d had in forever, and even that came with limits. He couldn’t explore the city and neighborhoods the way he wanted, not with his father’s men breathing down his neck at every turn.

Seb paused, staring his dad dead in the eyes. “I’m not Mom, you know!”

It was a low blow, and Seb knew it. But he was far too upset to hold back.

Something cracked in his father’s expression but was quickly replaced by an even more thunderous scowl, making him more foreboding than ever before.

“Exactly. You’re not. That’s why I will not repeat the same mistake twice. The guards will remain. One chance is all it takes to lose you forever,” his father said, his voice terrifyingly calm in contrast with his son’s near-shouting. “I cannot risk that, Sebastian Altamirano.”

When the full name came out, Seb knew that his cause was truly lost. With a frustrated grunt, he stomped his way to the door.

However, he hesitated with his hand on the handle, knowing what he should say.

“I love you,” he gritted out without turning back.

“I love you too, Seb,” his father replied, his voice just as quiet as it had been before, but now infused with decades of a love too great to grasp.

Frustrated but feeling marginally better, Seb left and silently closed the door behind him, leaving his father to his work.