Page 18 of Reaper's Claim

Fuck, Kim, you are getting more brain dead by the day.

Dad’s head whipped in my direction, along with every other bikers’. Suddenly, I felt likeIwas the poor bastard.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Dad roared at me, throwing his bike down on the stand and storming across the car park to me.

I felt like a trapped deer; I couldn’t move.

“I’ve been at my art show.” I blinked, looking up at him. “Why are you so mad?”

“Mad? Why am I mad?” he spat down at me. “You haven’t been home for two days!”

“I was home this morning!” I looked up at him, confused. Then I looked around the car park. Some bikers were looking at me with pity, others with annoyance because I was sure my dad had roared their heads off all because of me.

Suddenly it hit me.Dad thought I hadn’t been home for two days?He thought I hadn’t been home since I stormed out of his office two days ago? It was official; I was invisible not just to everyone at school, but my own dad, too.

“I came home last night!” My fists clenched at my sides. “Who do you think took the cigarette out from your hand and put the bucket next to the couch for you?” At that moment, I hated him. I hated her. I hated school. I hated everything and everyone. I pushed him hard in the chest and stormed past him. “Great parenting, Dad.”

***

Dad hadn’t really said anything else; he just let me storm off. After a few hours, I wasn’t angry with him anymore. I was angry with myself for making such a scene.

I knew Reaper had witnessed the whole event. I knew that because I caught his blank stare as I stormed across the lot.

Kim had followed me, muttering some empty apology. At the time, I wasn’t interested, but now as I thought about it, I wondered why she had bothered.

I was lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, when there was a knock on my door.

“Come in.” I sighed and pulled myself up, throwing my legs over the edge of the bed. I wasn’t even half surprised when I saw Dad closing my bedroom door behind him.

Dad looked exhausted. His eyes were locked on my carpet, his hands stuffed in his jeans pocket. It was the first time I could honestly say that Dad looked his age.

“Need to talk to ya.” His lips formed a firm line after he spoke, then slowly he looked up.

Just like that, my mind went blank. My stomach fell and my world seemed to freeze. Something was seriously wrong; one look and I could see it.

“Not going to lie to you, Abby. Shit isn’t looking too good for me at the moment.” His grim words seemed to form ice as he spoke. “I have a bunch of loose ends, and ‘til they are all dealt with, I can’t have you and Kim around me.”

“This morning you were yelling at me for not being home, and now you’re telling me you want me to leave?”

“Not leave.” Dad moved across the room, then sat down beside me. “I need you to make a break away from this type of life.”

“Type of life,” I repeated his words.

“I can’t have you and Kim paying for my mistakes. Your mom would kill me.”

“Dad.” I dropped my hand on his knee, looking up into those big green eyes. “What makes you think that we don’t want this type of life? It’s all we know. Don’t push us away. Look, we have dealt with threats before, and each time Kim and I have come through untouched. If you want us on house arrest for a while, we can do that.”

Dad seemed torn, and it showed so clear across his face. “What did I do to get two great daughters?” His face softened, and he threw an arm around my shoulder, pulling me to his side.

“So you spoke to Kim?” I asked.

“Yep.”

“What did she say?”

“The same thing you said.”

Sometimes, on very rare occasions, Kim and I thought alike; this was one of those times.