My hands start shaking.
“Party boys. Troublemakers. The kind of guys who take advantage of girls like you.”
“I don’t—”
“Did they touch you?”
“What?”
“Did they try?”
“Dad!”
He leans back and studies me. “Why are you protecting them?”
“I’m not protecting anyone but myself.”
His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “You’ve always been dramatic, Tigerlily. Ever since you were little. Exaggerating things. Making mountains out of molehills.”
My chest tightens. Is that true?
“The other night,” he continues, “I barely hit you. You know that, right?”
I stop breathing, remembering the searing pain across my face and my bloody lip. The blood stopped fairly fast and I ended up looking like I had lip filler.
“You startled me. I turned too fast. My hand caught your face. It wasn’t intentional. You don’t even have a mark, honey.”
“You—”
“You think I need some college frat kid to put me in my place?” His voice hardens just slightly. “I’m going to make sure you pay for it.”
I was feeling protective of mycollege frat boys, but that quickly deflates as he turns the tables back on me.
He says, “Why do you always do that? Why do you always make things worse than they are?”
I feel myself shrinking, folding inward.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a phone. It’s new. It’s still in the box.
“Your phone broke,” he says, setting it on the coffee table. “So I got you a new one.”
I stare at it.
“Go ahead. Take it.”
I don’t move.
“Tigerlily. Take the phone and say thank you.”
I reach out slowly and pick it up. The weight feels wrong in my hand.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“I already set it up for you,” he says. “Same number. All your contacts.”
This phone is to control me. I know he’s going to keep track of everything I do.
I just stare at it.
