Page 148 of Even Vampires Bleed
Léandre wraps an arm around my shoulder, and I lean against him as we walk to my dad’s bed.
“Dad,” I choke on the word.
Oh, well, maybe I’m crying.
I’m totally crying.
“Cassie?” my dad asks, with a hopeful voice.
“It’s me,” I tell him as I grab his hand.
It’s cold and less callused than it used to be, but I feel his comforting presence all the same.
“I missed you,” I add.
Dad finally opens his eyes. Slowly, so very slowly.
And even if he looks in a bit of pain, there is a genuine smile on his face as he looks at me.
“You look good, Cassie,” he tells me.
“Murder would do that,” Léandre says with a chuckle, and I elbow him to shut him up.
“Can I hug you?” I ask, and then I turn to the doctor. “Can I hug him? I saw him in pain when he opened his eyes and I don’t want to hurt him more, but I really want a hug. I can be very careful. I won’t squeeze and I won’t jump on him. I’ll be super duper careful.”
Léandre squeezes my shoulder in comfort, and I calm myself a bit.
“Come here, Cassie,” my dad says. “It’s just a headache. Squeeze away.”
I’m still careful when I get closer to the bed, but then my dad wraps his arms around me and tucks me to him.
I react on instinct and burrow my face against his chest and inhale the comforting scent of my dad.
It feels good.
It feels right.
“Now that I have you trapped,” dad says, “I’d like to know what is this ‘murder’ that Léandre is talking about? I leave for a few days…” He pauses when he sees the dark eyes I’m giving him. “Okay, more than a few days, but then I discover my innocent daughter went on a killing spree.”
“I killed one person,” I grumble against his chest. “The other is in a coma.”
“That’s still more violence than I’ve ever seen in this little package,” he answers with a chuckle.
Well, at least it seems that my little mission is making the men in my life laugh—or at least chuckle.
I look at Léandre, who stayed a few steps away against the wall. He has a small smile on his face that makes me feel like he’s happy for me, even if he doesn’t remember my father.
And in this instant I know everything is going to be alright.
Until my dad takes a big inhale of air.
“You reek of sex, Cassie. Is that a way to greet your father?”
Oh well, I should have taken a shower.
“I couldn’t wait to see you,” I say instead. “It’s not like you smell great, either.”
And then I laugh.
