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Chapter 6
Dani
Istare at my reflection in a compact mirror, my gaze lingering on the giant, white bandage covering my cheek. It finally stopped hurting, but there’s an itch that’s impossible to scratch unless I want to piss off the plastic surgeon my father is dumping way too much money onto to make it all disappear.
I slide the mirror back into my purse and look out the car window to see my father’s neighborhood rushing by. “Smith, where are we going?” I ask.
He glances at me in the rearview mirror. “Your father’s house.”
“I see that. Why? I said I wanted to go to my apartment.”
“Sorry, kid. Daddy’s orders.”
I sit farther back in the seat. “Great…”
Smith says nothing more, keeping his blank, stoic face forward as we turn off onto my father’s street. I haven’t decided whether or not I like this new escort my father has hired to follow me around. He’s an ex-cop, obvious by the way he holds his shoulders like he’s reliving the old glory days of his career. Could be worse, I suppose.
My hand rises to my cheek, but I manage to stop myself from scratching the stitches.
“Hang on…” Smith says, slowing the car to a near halt as the paparazzi barely parts for us.
They fill the end of my father’s driveway, cameras flashing at the tinted windows, hoping to get just one shot of my new, mangled face to sell to the highest bidder.
We pass through the gate and it closes behind the car, leaving the army of cameras disappointed and angry as we travel down the long road and park in the circle drive.
“Stay put.”
I nod at Smith as he steps out and slides his jacket off his shoulders. We’re far enough away from the gates that they’d never get a decent shot to sell, but Dad doesn’t want to risk it leaking out at all.
Smith opens my door for me and holds his jacket over my head to block their view of me as we walk up the stairs to the front door together.
“Honey, she’s home!”
I hear Cora’s voice from the living room the second my heel touches the shiny, marble floor. “Yep, I’m home,” I mutter as Smith drops his jacket.
“I’m going to see if I can get them to piss off.” He steps back outside to deal with the vultures.
My father’s study door bursts open, and he steps out into the foyer. His face instantly contorts into a frown and he walks over to me to grab my jaw.
“I can’t believe this…” he says through his teeth, studying the bandage closely. “They couldn’t have just killed the old bastard and left?”
“Dad…”I whisper, glancing into the living room at Cora. She’s been crying since yesterday, completely wrecked by the loss of her friend. “It’s fine. The doctor said it’s a clean cut, easy to fix. I got lucky.”
“Well, we’re going to find out who did this and sue the hell out of them. We’re lucky you already finished re-shoots on Night Trials 3. Does it hurt?”
“A little.”
“They give you pain meds?”
“No.”
He furrows his brow. “What the hell kind of doctors are these?”
“They didn’t give me meds because I declined them. Like I said, it hurts a little. Mostly just itches.”
I step out of the foyer to join Cora in the living room. She’s curled up on the couch with a self-help book and a glass of wine. Not an unfamiliar pose for her over the last few years, unfortunately.
“Hey, Cora.”
