Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79486 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79486 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
I wiggled into a pair of elastic-band pants and a clingy gray tank top before ambling back into the bathroom to touch up my makeup. Just after I’d run a few light passes of the mascara brush over my eyelashes, I heard something coming from the bedroom. I frowned, paused, and listened intently.
It sounded like a buzzing. It would rattle for a few moments, pause, then repeat. I set the brush down and stepped into the bedroom. “The cell phone, dummy,” I said out loud as I smacked myself in the forehead. I really was losing my grip on reality. I guessed I just wasn’t used to receiving calls on it. The phone had been almost completely silent since the day Ben had given it to me. It was mostly for emergencies. Ben had only left about an hour ago, so I doubted it was him. But who else would be calling? It must be him.
I picked up the phone and looked at the caller ID. It wasn’t a number I recognized. Maybe Ben was using Jay’s phone or something like that.
“Hello?” I said, taking the call.
“Hey, Car Girl.”
I froze. I hadn’t heard my father’s voice since the wedding. I still remembered the last thing he’d said to me. It’s almost time. Finish getting ready. What kind of father sent his baby girl to the altar with words like that? He hadn’t said anything to me as we walked down the aisle together, or before I’d hurried out of the church to climb on the back of Ben’s motorcycle and set off on this crazy new life I’d stumbled upon. The voice I’d heard then was metallic, ice-cold, and completely unfamiliar.
But the one coming through the phone was the voice I grew up with, the one I knew. It was his warm, laconic honey voice. He said “Car Girl” the way he always had—like he was my daddy and he loved me.
“Hi, Daddy,” I whispered.
“How are you, dear?” He sounded completely unconcerned, like he really was just checking up on me. It was as if he had totally forgotten about the wedding and the fact that we hadn’t spoken in almost a month. Like he hadn’t given me away in shame and disgust.
“I’m…good, I guess.”
“You guess?”
I straightened up, even though I knew he couldn’t see me. “No, I am. I’m good.”
“Things are going okay?”
“Yes, they are.” I took in a deep breath, getting ready to explode with all the questions that I’d been burying deep in the recesses of my brain and trying not to focus on. Questions like: Where have you been? Why haven’t you called? Am I not still your daughter? Do you not love me? How could you abandon me like you did?
But he spoke again before I could decide where to start. “I owe you an apology, Carmen. I haven’t been a good father to you lately.”
I sat in silence, waiting for him to continue. He paused, then said, “You must understand that this was hard for me. My only daughter, the only family I have left…To get involved with a pig of a man like Ben Killmore…I was angry. You have to see things from my perspective.”
I felt tears stinging my eyes. How dare he ask for an apology. After what he did—sending me away like an unwanted servant? Like livestock, spoiled for its intended use? “Daddy, how could you?” I said.
“I know you’re angry, dear. I certainly can’t blame you for that. I would be angry, too, if I were you. But there are things you don’t know. Things I haven’t told you. If you knew, you’d see why I reacted the way I did. I’m not a perfect man, far from it, and I admit that blind rage may have gotten the best of me for a while. But I want to make things right.”
“What don’t I know?”
“I can’t tell you over the phone. It’s not safe. I can’t risk you getting caught in the middle of things. You’re in a dangerous enough position as it is.”
“What’s dangerous, Daddy? Why can’t you tell me? What is going on?” The warm bubble of happiness I’d been enjoying had popped completely, leaving me exposed to the cold daggers coming out of my father’s mouth. Danger, rage, safety—what was he talking about? He sounded sad, and almost…afraid. I’d never known him to be afraid.
“Can we talk?” he asked. “In person, I mean. I can have one of my men come pick you up and bring you to me in a couple hours. But, Carmen…”
“Yes?”
“It has to be just you. Ben can’t be here. And he can’t know about this.”
“Why?”
“I’ll explain everything when you’re here. It’s hard, Carmen. You’ll understand soon.”
I set my jaw. He sounded like my true father, but so much had happened in the last few months. The bond that was once there, the unquestioning trust, had eroded at the edges. I wasn’t about to just jump out and have faith that I could hold onto it anymore. To lie to Ben, or to go meet my father without telling him, which was as good as a lie, felt serious, almost deadly. Suddenly, things had taken on this do-or-die feeling that I didn’t like, not one bit. My heartbeat was pounding threateningly in my chest.