He cuts me a look. “I support you and Hudson completely, but I need you two to be cautious. Safe.”
I glance at him, confused. That sounds suspiciously like the beginnings of the sex talk.
“Dad, we already had this conversation years ago. I rememberwaytoo much of it, actually. Hud and I are careful—”
“Oh! No, not like that. But good to know,” he rambles, neck flushing.
I laugh. “We’re both relieved, then.”
“Indeed. Anyway, your mom and I were talking. I think it’s time for a refresher on the guns in the house.”
I frown. “Dad, I’ve been hunting since I was ten. I know how to use the shotgun.”
“Doesn’t matter. Guns aren’t something you can afford to be casual about. And this stalker… we don’t know who we’re dealing with. I’ve seen situations like this get worse fast. I want you to be prepared.”
He’s right, and I’m not naive. “Okay. You’re right.”
“Good. We’ll hit the range Saturday. I want you to practice with the handgun.”
I nod and get up from the couch.
“Alright, you’ve got exams tomorrow. Go hit the books, then get a good night's sleep.”
I stop in his office doorway, then turn, watching as he settles behind his desk again. “Dad?”
He looks up from the papers he was shuffling.
“I don’t think I ever apologized for snapping at you on the phone that day. When Hudson had his panic attack. I was scared and didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry.”
He stands and comes over to where I’m standing, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “Did you know I yelled at your mom’s doctor the day of her car accident?”
I blink, surprised. “Really?”
“She was half-conscious and moaning in pain. The doc told me he’d already given her the max dose of pain meds, and we’d just have to wait it out. You know what I did?”
“No.”
“I yelled, ‘What good are you?’”
I bark a laugh. “That’s the same thing I said to you.”
He grins. “Like father, like son.” His face softens. “We lash out when the people we love are hurting. We want to fix it. But sometimes, the best thing we can do is just be there. Hold their hand. That matters more than any doctor or treatment.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
He squeezes my shoulder one last time, nudging me towards the stairs. I wander into my room, then change into basketball shorts and collapse into bed.
When I check my phone, I see two missed messages.
HUD: Thank you for the best first date. I love you. See you in the morning.
ME:Thank you for being the best date. Love you too. Night.
The second message is from an unknown number. My skin prickles, not wanting to read whatever this psycho is going to spew.
UNKNOWN:End it with him.
UNKNOWN: By the way, how's your truck? Running well?
