I heard the beep of the call dropping.
Punc stared at me seething. “Block his number.”
“No! If something happens to Cat, I’ll need that for the cops or to find out what’s going on.”
“Nothing is happening to Catalina,” he said, his voice laced with venom and steel.
I took a deep breath. “Give me my phone, please.”
“Why?”
“Because I need my phone.”
“Why, baby?”
Calling me “baby” threw me and bugged me for some reason. He’d made himself rather clear last night, but I hadn’t made upmy mind yet. I decided to let it go - both the endearment and my demand for him to hand over my phone. Once he put my phone down, I’d call Dad.
I took another deep breath, shook my head and turned around. “Never mind.”
“Oh, no you don’t,” he said, and hurried around me to block my way.
My eyes darted to his hands. He wasn’t holding my cell phone, and I glanced over my shoulder. The phone wasn’t on the counter either. My best guess was that he’d tucked it into the back pocket of his jeans.
“You’re way too tweaked to drop it like that. What aren’t you telling me, babe? I know there’s something because otherwise you wouldn’t be so adamant about your phone.”
I shook my head. “No, I overreacted.”
The way he stared at me, it was like he could peek inside my mind. “Do you want to call your sister?”
Catalina wouldn’t have her phone on, but that was a good point. “Yeah, I should at least text her or leave her a message.”
He pulled my phone from his back pocket and handed it to me. “Have at it, but I know there’s something else going on here, honey.”
That wasn’t an attempt at giving me a guilt trip, but hell if I didn’t feel horrible for keeping this from him.
“You’re right. Frank spoke to Dad, who let it spill that there’s an insurance payout coming. Which is true, but Cat and I have to split itafterthe other creditors are paid. This verifies what me and Cat suspected all along. Dad is at the crux of this bullshit. I’ve called him repeatedly before and after I got out of the hospital. He hasn’t returned any of my calls. Cat called and he called her back at like two in the freaking morning.”
He shoved his hand through his hair. “Christ.”
“So, I’m calling Dad,again, and hopefully this time he’ll freaking call me back.”
“Don’t,” Punc said.
My eyes widened. “What?”
Punc’s lips twisted to the side before he frowned. “Don’t call him. I’ll get in touch with him.”
“You don’t have his number,” I muttered.
Punc dipped his chin. “Does he still live off McGlothlin Street?”
I didn’t respond.
His lips tipped up. “Yeah. He’s gonna hear from me.”
“Punc, really, I don’t want—”
He grabbed my hands. “I didn’t pressure you at breakfast, but are you interested in giving this a shot?”
