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“STOP, CHARLIE.”
Mom’s raised voice followed by shattering glass jarred me from sleep. Throwing off the blankets, I raced toward the sounds, dodging an airborne plate as I reached the kitchen.
“I don’t like meatloaf.”
Dad stood in front of the counter; another plate poised to throw. It was times like this I wished I had someone to talk to. Someone to share the enormous burden with, but I’d lied to my best friends.
When River asked me about my parents during my interview at To A Tea, I panicked and told her they were deaf. I have no idea why, other than it was easier to explain their absence from social events rather than admit the ugly truth. Thanks to this disease, my father’s grip on reality had fractured to the point where his behavior had become unpredictable. Most days, he was the sweet, gentle man who used to kiss my boo-boos better. Then other times he could be downright violent.
“Let me set the table for you, Dad.” I snagged the dish before he could launch it, but didn’t move quick enough to avoid the powerful grip he had on my arm as he twisted me around.
“Who the hell are you?” he boomed.
Ouch. It was one of those days.
Mom pried his fingers from my arm. “She’s our daughter, Quin.”
“We don’t have a daughter, Millie. What’s gotten into you?”
This wasn’t the first time he’d forgotten me and it wouldn’t be the last. At least he’d remembered his wife this time. Imagine being in a home surrounded by people you didn’t recognize. I’m sure it was just as scary for him as it was us.
“Of course we do, dear,” Mom spoke softly. “Let’s go look at the pictures.”
In the hallway, between the living room and kitchen, we’d lined the walls with photographs going back as far as their first date and ending with my graduation. Sometimes it helped, other times he didn’t even recognize himself in them.
“See here?” she cooed. “This was when Quin’s softball team won the county championship game. Do you remember that, Charlie?”
His brow furrowed as he stared at the frame I knew held a photograph of the two of us; me holding a trophy and Dad standing behind me with his hands on my shoulders and the biggest, shit-eating grin I’d ever seen.
“Quinny hit a game winning homerun,” he whispered.
I closed my eyes and sighed. Crisis averted. Once he began to recognize certain things, it was easier to guide his behavior in a more positive direction.
The last year had taken a toll on all of us, more so Mom, since she had to leave her job at the school in order to stay home with him. At first, she’d been able to continue with private tutoring sessions via the internet, however about four months ago it became obvious he needed her undivided attention. Their love was unconditional, and it broke my heart to watch her suffer as this wretched disease tore him—bit by bit—from our lives.
“I’ve made your favorite meatloaf for dinner, so why don’t we all go have a seat before it gets cold.”
While she nudged him toward the table, I veered off to the pantry to grab the broom and dustpan. Once I’d carefully swept the broken glass from the floor, I walked out the back door to empty the contents in one of the larger trash cans. Closing my eyes, I took a few deep breaths before I went back inside. I was startled when a hand began to push up the sleeve of my shirt.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” her voice broke.
“It’s okay.” I turned to face her. “He doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
“He’d be sick to his stomach if he realized he’d hurt you.”
Nodding my head in agreement, I took her hand in mine and squeezed. “We’ve got each other and together we’ve got him.”
“Damn right we do,” she nodded. “You are the best daughter we could’ve ever hoped for, Quinlan Marie.”
Blinking rapidly, I held off another round of waterworks which threatened to let loose as I followed her back inside. Damn these emotions.
I really needed to take that test.
CHAPTER 2
Allesandro
LUC AND EMORY’S nightmare was finally over, though it didn’t end without violence and bloodshed. Which was how I found myself standing inside a hospital room, surrounded by my entire family, plus River and Quin, as we watched Emory come to grips with the fact she’d been forced to kill someone in self-defense.
