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That made her flinch.
He didn’t hold her there too long. He looked back at the door, and his voice dropped. “I’m serious. Go get dressed. I’m not on the clock until one.”
Great.
But now he was looking at her again, and she felt his uncertainty. That meant he cared. She could refuse right now, and there really wasn’t a whole lot he could do about it. But she got the distinct impression it would hurt him if she did.
She shouldn’t care. He didn’t deserve it.
But she did care. “All right.” She paused. “I have to take a shower first.”
“Take your time. I still have to do the molding.” He shifted so she could get back through the door.
But halfway through, she paused. “What did it say, anyway?”
He was already reloading his brush. “What did what say?”
“The door.”
“It didn’t say anything. Just some stupid kid’s idea of art.”
It didn’t say anything. Relief shoved some of the guilt out of the way. Regardless of how she felt about her dad, she didn’t want him reading that some “stupid kid” thought his little girl was a whore.
He ran the brush against the side of the can, scraping off the excess. “Seems a little early for Halloween, though.”
She didn’t follow. “Halloween?”
He glanced up at her. “Didn’t your mom tell you?”
When she shook her head, he reached up to take hold of the door handle, obviously wanting to get back to painting before it dripped off his brush. “Yeah, they drew a pentagram.”
Then he pulled the door shut, leaving her standing in the hallway, staring gape-mouthed at nothing.
Becca wanted to storm over to Chris’s house and demand answers.
Instead, she had to suffer through a phone demo at the Verizon store in the middle of the mall, given by a guy not much older than she was. Christ, she knew how to send a text message. Couldn’t they just swipe her dad’s card so they could get out of there already?
When the salesman finally went into the back to program the phone, her dad leaned on the counter and looked at her. “You all right?”
She couldn’t stop thinking of the pentagram on her front door. Had Tyler done it? Seth?
They had a gun and they knew where she lived?
She shrugged and picked at her nails.
“Do you like the phone?” he asked.
“It’s fine.” It was great. Better than her last one, with Internet access and a keyboard instead of just ten digits on the face.
“You want to tell me what’s bothering you?”
Yes. She did. She didn’t care who listened, but she needed to spill her guts and ask someone what to do. If he asked twice, she might actually do it.
She hunched her shoulders and stared at the wall of protective cases. “No.”
“Fair enough.”
Well, that solved that. She shifted to trace her finger along the peeling edge of the service agreement taped to the counter until the man came back.
