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It’s hard not to run to him, difficult to will my feet to move at a normal pace. The urge is to rush him, wrap my arms around him, beg him to break free of this place and take care of me again. But he can’t break free. There’s a good chance he’ll never be free. My father is paying for his sins.
Less than two feet away, my father holds out his arms and I don’t hesitate to fall into him. He hugs me tight, his hand petting my head, and he kisses my hair then says in my ear, “Are you hurt?”
“No,” I whisper. “I’m healing.”
“In danger?”
“Yes.”
There’s a clearing of a throat and my father and I break apart. Inmates and visitors are only allowed a brief embrace, even if it is a father welcoming a daughter. We both sit, him on one side of the corner table, me on the other.
Dad glances around and I track where he’s looking. Everyone seems lost in their own conversations, but I don’t pretend to understand his world, just know that for every action there is a reaction.
“The whole world is exploding right now and it’s over you.” Dad leans in to make this conversation private. “Last I heard, Linus thinks Eric has you.”
I search Dad’s face and while he’s always worn cool and collected, even when he’s on the verge of a murderous rage, I don’t spot what I had expected—a masked anger over the kidnapping.
“I’m not with Eric.”
“Didn’t think you were. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.”
“Eric told me to tell you that he saved me.”
Dad doesn’t flinch. “Anything else?”
“And he told me to tell you thank you.”
Dad’s lips twitch up.
It’s a disgusting sensation as part of me swims in confusion and dips in betrayal. “You knew Eric was going to kidnap me.”
“I told him to get you out of town.”
My fingers draw in for a fist and then I force flex them out. “He blindfolded me and hog-tied me then threw me in the back of a car.”
That flash of craziness I originally expected finally appears, but Dad retains his cool. “But he got the job done, and you’re sitting here safe.”
“And Eric’s your enemy,” I whisper-shout.
Dad edges forward to give us more privacy. “And boundaries are shifting. You’re smart, Abby, and I expect you to keep up.”
“They have TV’s in here, right? I mean, when you aren’t sitting around plotting out the world outside these walls, you must watch it. Does it ever sink in when watching the Disney Channel that people don’t normally have their daughters kidnapped? That instead of working through coded messages through other people that you do something crazy like talk to me directly? Normal fathers talk to their daughters.”
“I’m not normal and neither are you.”
“No shit. And here I thought my father sold cosmetics door-to-door. You know, someday, I’m going to have a job where I can come home and sip lemonade on the front porch and watch people mow their yards and I’m going to have goldfish and bunnies and I will no longer have to have conversations about me being saved by a kidnapping. But for now, this is where we are at so how about you fucking humor me and tell me what the hell is going on?”
Dad cracks a grin, and I hate that amusing him causes a high within me. “I miss how you view the world, Abigail. You always make the serious moments have less of an edge.”
“Tommy shot me,” I blurt because I don’t have time to play, not even with him. “I don’t have proof, but if I really needed it, I can get it. Eric saving me, my own side taking a shot at me, Ricky wants me to start moving up into management, and Linus is getting a position watching my back with this promotion—I’ll admit to being overwhelmed. Then the last real conversation I had with Linus, he informed me that if I wanted out, there is no out. That I’m safer in than I ever will be out. Now I’m discovering you’re working with Eric. I’m lost and I’m in danger and I need out.”
Dad gestures up with his hand. “You are out.”
“I’m not out. I’m hiding. My home is in Louisville. My life is in Louisville. Grams is in Louisville.”
Dad narrows his eyes on me and I sit back, knowing I’m about to get schooled. “You have broken nearly every rule I gave you to stay alive. You made attachments.”
I shrug. “They weren’t friends within the streets. They were out.”
