Page 76 of Pocketful of Shame

"Please hurry," she croaked out, trembling. "I don’t wanna fall out of thetreehouseagain. No one will find me there. Hidden away."

Presley's eyes widened and something passed between them, something I was completely fucking oblivious to. "I see."

"The Boss," she choked out, shaking violently. "Papa Don't Preach."

"Springsteen?" I asked, feeling at a complete loss. "Madonna?"

"Maybe we'll getlucky," she continued to rave, eyes glued to Presley. "Maybe we'll all gosailingsomeday."

"Can't you see how unwell my daughter is?" Cal demanded, attention on my father. "She needs professional help, Chris, not some TLC from a teenage fucking boy. He's not helping matters."

"Your daughter was just fine until you showed up." Keeping an arm hooked around her, I slowly backed us further into the room. "And she ain't going back to that damn hospital, if that's why you're here," I warned, glowering at him. "Over my dead body."

"Holden," Dad interjected calmly. "You need to calm down, son."

"No, no, no," Romi wailed, fingernails digging into my sides so deep, I knew she'd cracked the skin. "Nothing in Poc –" Her words broke out and she sobbed into my chest, "…as it seems."

"Shh." Keeping one arm hooked around her waist, I cradled her head with my free hand, fingers tangling in her blonde mane, watching as Presley quietly skulked towards the door. "I've got you, baby."

"Baby," Cal sneered. "Well, didn’t you change your tune?"

"No thanks to you," I countered hotly.

"Now, now, now," Romi cried out and Presley swiped my keys off the windowsill before barreling out of the room.

"Clever boy," Cal sneered before reaching a hand behind his back and withdrawing a gun. "Now, step away from my daughter, you little runt."

"Hold the fuck up," I choked out, shoving Romi behind my back. "Just relax –"

"Run, Sketch," Romi sobbed, clawing at my back. "Run now and don’t ever look back."

"I told you this would happen!" Cal roared, his manic gaze flicking to my father. "We all did, but you wouldn't listen. You couldn't leave well enough alone and now look where we are."

"Cal, put the gun down," Dad ordered calmly. "You're not helping matters."

"Look at her!" Cal roared. "She knows, Chris. She fucking knows about the trade."

"Knows what?" I demanded. "What goddamn trade?"

"This is over," Cal snarled, cocking the hammer, gun aimed at my chest. "I'm done with this fucker."

"Jesus Christ," I strangled out, legs shaking violently, as I backed us into a corner, protecting her body with mine. "Stay behind me, Ro."

"You're making a terrible mistake," Dad warned, voice harder now. "Pull that trigger and all hell will break lose. You'll start a war you can't win, Cal."

"I'm already at war," Cal sneered.

And then he pulled the trigger.

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