“Well, you picked a fine time to grow a conscience, Dad. As I lay in a hospital bed after being tortured almost to death, you have me arrested.” I gave him two thumbs up. “Good call.”
He dropped his gaze. “I had no other choice.”
“You know what?” I said, stepping toward him. I poked a finger into his chest. “I’ve thought a lot about how I’ve always seen you. You were my rock. The only one who believed in me, in my abilities. I always thought you were on my side. But then it hit me. All those years you put up with Denise, with the way she treated me, and instead of defending me, you looked the other way. You never stood up for me. You just reaped the benefits of my ability, but you stood by and let that witch run me into the ground every chance she got.”
He looked past me, and I turned to see said witch standing in the doorway, her mouth open in surprise.
I pointed to her and nodded at him. “Yes, that one.” When he refrained from comment, I asked, “Did you ever really care about me?”
He snapped to attention in surprise. “Of course, I did. I always have. I just thought—” His voice broke, and he covered his mouth with a fist.
“Make it good,” I said, my tone more warning than suggestion.
“You girls needed a mother.”
“And you gave us that?” I stepped closer—so close, my image shimmered in the tears pooling between his lashes. “You didn’t have my back. You had yours. Go ahead. Rent out my office. I don’t care.”
Since Denise stood blocking my escape route, I decided to go through the next office and out the front door.
But just as I turned the knob, he said, “I need to know you’ll be okay when I’m gone.”
In one last valiant effort, I turned back to him, a very clever and timely comeback sitting on the tip of my razor-sharp tongue, but it stayed there, because in the next instant, Dad raised a gun and shot me.
14
Used Tombstone for Sale:
Perfect for someone named Charlotte Davidson.
—AD
Or, well, shot at me.
I ducked. Not sure why. But ducking when being shot at seemed like the right thing to do. Used to be, I could slow time, I could literally see the bullet hanging in midair, but since being tortured, I seemed to have lost that ability, because Dad fired and I ducked without even trying.
I fell to my knees and covered my head, then turned to look at Dad from underneath my arms.
He was still holding the gun, a stunned expression on his face.
“Leland!” Denise shouted seconds before plastering her hands over her mouth in shock. Had to give her kudos for the effort.
After taking inventory of my vital parts and feeling no pain, I jumped to my feet. Gemma ran up then and squeezed behind Denise to get into the room. She was quickly followed by Sienna, who was holding a pot of coffee in her hands.
I realized the world was spinning. The sound had sent adrenaline rocketing through my system.
After patting myself down for injuries with shaking hands, I screamed at my dad. “What the hell was that?” But he was still holding the gun on me. He seemed to have slipped into a mild state of shock. “Dad!” I said, trying to get his attention. “It is so official. You are a bad father. Good fathers do not shoot their daughters!” I crossed my arms and brought out the big guns. “I am so telling Mom when I die.”
“What happened?” Gemma asked, looking from me to Dad.
I pointed to him. “He tried to kill me. That’s what happened.”
“Dad!” she said, scolding him like one would a child who’d just eaten a bug.
“No, you don’t understand.” He focused on her just as Uncle Bob rushed in, shoving past Denise. Great. The whole gang was here to witness my murder.
Dad looked back at me, his jaw open. “Watch this.”
He fired again.
I ducked again. And fought the dizzying effects of an adrenaline rush that sent me to the brink of unconsciousness. According to evolution, that was not what adrenaline was supposed to do. It was supposed to make me wet my pants, then run really fast as though a bear were attacking. Passing out was so un-Darwinian.
Uncle Bob had his pistol out and pointed at Dad’s head before I could say, “What the f**k?”
I’d fallen onto my knees again. The crack of thunder from the gun jolted through me so hard and fast, I felt like the breath had been knocked out of my lungs. I stumbled to my feet as the spin of the world blurred my vision and turned my stomach. I was going to be sick. My body quaked from the inside out. I swallowed hard, trying to keep down the small amount of coffee I’d had earlier.
I felt a heat rush across my skin and looked to my left. Reyes materialized beside me, his massive black robe undulating and making the world sway even more. I felt like a boat on high seas.
He looked from beneath his hood toward Dad, then back at me. “Why is your father trying to kill you?”
I swallowed again and braced myself against the wall at my back. “I have no idea.” When he started toward him, I hurried forward to cut him off, stepping in between them. “Oh, no, you don’t. He is off-limits, do you understand?”
He took my arm and pulled me into his robes. The scalding heat soothed despite my anger. “Get a handle on this, or I’ll kill him where he stands.”
I pushed away from him and pointed toward the window. “Out. Now.”
With a low growl, he dematerialized, but I could feel him close. He hadn’t gone far, and he could materialize and sever Dad’s spine before I could cry foul. I had to defuse this situation and do it fast, or my dad would never be able to walk again. Or quite possibly breathe.