I was afraid to ask the follow-up question. But I was afraid even more of what I would do or think if I did not ask the question.
“And did the club kill him?”
My father arched an eyebrow at me.
“I have no idea, to be totally frank with you,” he said. “The Carters have proved more elusive and more troubling than I had ever hoped. But I sure hope so, for both of our sakes.”
“Both of our sakes,” I repeated.
“Yes. My sake because I am tired of fighting them. Your sake, because if you want happiness and peace, you would do well to not have him as an option.”
He scooted the chair forward, close enough that he could lean his elbows on the bed. I scooted away, but I had run out of space. I could no longer retreat any further.
“Tell me, daughter,” he said. “What happened between you two?”
I turned away, biting my lip.
“There is no point in trying to hide the truth, dear,” he said. “I am going to try and kill him one way or another. Whether or not you slept with him makes no difference to me. I suppose the only real difference it will make will be if I kill him or his brother first. Tell me the truth.”
God, is this really happening? How did I wind up in the middle of this war like this?
“The truth?”
My father nodded. The smile had faded. He looked like he was about to interrogate an enemy soldier. I almost felt forced to tell the truth without actually being tortured, because my father’s presence was torture enough.
“I never slept with Cole, but I cared for him a great deal,” I said. “If we were still together in Ashton and I didn’t worry about you…”
“Then what?”
God, those words were so icy they could freeze a beach. The chill went deeper than my spine; it was almost like it froze my heartbeat for a couple of seconds.
“We’d still be building a relationship.”
My father groaned, pushing his chair back with his feet on my bedsheets. It was gross, but what was I going to do, argue with him?
“That hurts,” he said. “That really, really hurts.”
“Truth hurts, huh?”
“Did you love him?”
I could not say that.
“We were getting there.”
My father doubled over, as if having gotten stabbed in the gut, and put his head in his hands. He sighed a couple of times, looked up at me, and then buried his head again in his hands. I fought to feel nothing but contempt for him for all that he’d done, but the truth was, for as much as I sometimes hated him and wished he would leave me alone, my reaction was not so simple.
“I tried to raise you right and protect you from this dark world, Lilly,” he said. The way he said my name... it was like a doting father would. “I grew up believing life was war. Grandpa Rusty had damn good reason to believe that. In my lifetime, I have never been able to escape violence. But I had hoped that by protecting you, I would keep you away from the worst of this world.”
I’d heard similar spiels like this before, but never ones laced with such emotion. My father’s voice even shook a few times. Was this what it was like to have to realize your biggest goal in life had become a failure?
“Instead, it seems that it has only made you rebel and seek out the worst of humanity even more.”
“The worst?” I snapped. “Cole treated me right, Dad. I will not speak for whatever drama you have with them, but Cole Carter treated me well.”
“Sure, anyone can treat anyone well for a week or two. But what do you think would have happened over a few months? Once the initial magic wore off?”
He shook his head and looked away. I even thought he sniffled at one point, but I might have confused an emotional, tearful one for just a general one. Still, I had never seen my father so... genuine.
