His silence disturbed me as I thought it would be an easy answer. What type of parent would have their kid attend college with men who want to kill her?
“Dad, please. I can’t go back,” I pleaded, and he placed his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers together.
“Where’s the gun?” he asked, and I squirmed, shrinking down into my seat. “Adina,” his tone turned dark, “where is it?”
My cheeks burned some more. If I wasn’t embarrassed enough over the filmed frolicking with Lev and Ezrah. He’ll never trust me again. “Um,” I sighed.
“Adina,” he scolded, reading the horror on my face. “Where is it? Did you bring it with you?”
I shook my head. “I’ve lost it.”
“What? You lost it? How could you lose a handgun? I thought you’d be responsible, Adina. You’re hardly new to handling guns, so how the hell did you lose it?” he snarled as his preconceptions of me were shattering into a thousand pieces.
“I didn’t lose it,” I corrected myself, glancing behind me when I heard someone walk past—probably Leslie being nosy. But she didn’t stop, so I continued. “Someone broke into my room and stole it. I had it hidden well. And why did you give it to me in thefirst place? I mean…it’s college, why exactly did you think that I needed it?”
“Wait. Someone stole it?” he tipped his head and gazed up at the ceiling as if all his worst nightmares had come true. “Don’t tell me…”
I knew what he was implying, “I don’t know if it was the Warwicks. I have no proof, and it’s difficult to ask questions without revealing that I had a gun in the first place.”
Okay, he looked really pissed now. I screwed up massively. “Forget it. It’s too dangerous to go back.”
“Thank goodness,” I sighed, then remembered, “Oh no. I have to go back for the police investigation because I was on the same carriage as a student who died, so…”
“Did you see anything?” he questioned.
“No,” I lied because I didn’t want more drama to cloud the original drama, which was the damn Warwicks setting me up. “Anyway, you haven't answered my question. Why did you feel I needed protection at Castlehill anyway?”
He shrugged his shoulders, “Let’s not get into that.”
His answer surprised me. Another secret. An ulterior motive. “No, tell me.”
“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? You’re a Boleyn. You’d be the enemy to many,” was his reply, and I didn’t quite believe him. “Anyway, I need to think about all of this," I said, pointing to the iPad with my pics on it and the blackmail. “If I don’t make a decision, then they will release these images.”
“To whom? Who’s going to care?” I pressed, and he stabbed me a look.
“I’ll care,” he hissed, flicking his hand at me to be dismissed, “Now get out of my sight.”
“But Dad,” I pleaded as hot tears formed in my eyes, but I refused to show my weakness by crying. “Please.”
“Leave,” he said, far too calmly. “I can’t look at you right now.” His eyes flicked to the iPad, and he cringed at how disgusted he was with me; I felt so ashamed. There was nothing more I could say to change his mind, so I pushed my chair back and stood to leave. As I turned my back to him, walking away, he said in a softer tone, “Stay in your room, and once I’ve figured out what I’m going to do about this mess, I’ll call you down.”
I was close to reminding him that I was an adult and he couldn’t make demands, but I thought it was unwise at that time.
