Page 4 of Devil’s Promise

Not just talking. I don’t make noise. At all…not even sighs. I’ve gone silent.

It’s the only rebellion I’ve ever been able to successfully commit against my father, and that keeps me going, even when he tries his damnedest to get me to make a sound.

He thinks he’ll break me.

Maybe he will. Or maybe I’ll end up exactly like my mother.

Death would be its own form of relief.

But I’ve got unfinished business and I plan to see it through before they lay me in the dirt. You would think that would mean that I’d acquiesce to my father and start talking again.

But I can’t. I won’t.

I’m done telling his lies. So I press my mouth into a firm line.

“My daughter has been clear. While the pain of her mother’s death lingers, she is committed to seeing real change in this state and she wants nothing more than to soldier on and see me in the governor’s seat.”

I’d snort if I allowed myself the luxury. I’d like to see him in hell. That’s where he belongs.

Silence isn’t much of a weapon, but it has been a powerful enough protest, considering how much time we spend campaigning.

At first my mother’s death created a wave of sympathy that translated into tremendous support for his run for governor. It made me sick.

But more and more, the story has been changing. His ambition is causing his already broken daughter mental distress.

Little do they know, I’ve spent my entire life distressed.

This is the one time I’ve taken any control.

He can physically jam me into clothes. He can drag me into the car and onto planes as he campaigns.

But he can’t force me to speak.

The small rebellion is worth whatever pain is coming.

His campaign manager, Dick Strassmore, steps up next to me. He’s perfect for my father, their blind ambition mirroring the other.

I hear them talking, the governor’s mansion is a four to eight year stop on my father’s way to the presidency.

I shiver to think it. My father at the helm of the most powerful country in the world. I can’t let it happen. I won’t.

I have no idea how I’ll stop him, but I know I have to try.

My father finally leaves the stage, stomping toward us. The moment he hits the wing, his face rearranges into a dark scowl, his laser focus on me.

He puts his finger right in my face. “You are going to regret this.”

More than the shock therapy? More than the burns?

“Don.” Dick clears his throat, not caring that I’m being threatened. He just wants my father’s attention. “We found Albert.”

Albert is my father’s choice for lieutenant governor. My father’s focus shifts. “Where is he?”

“Whorehouse on 129th. Coked out of his mind.”

My father snorts, my sins momentarily forgotten. “How does he not understand that this isn’t Jersey? He’s got to win his own primary.”

Dick shrugs. “We’ll get him cleaned up. He’ll be ready for tonight.”