Page 52 of Stay
No…not laugh.
I want to run and hide. My dad is the last person I want to face.
Unfortunately, there isn’t a choice in the matter.
Cole reaches out and grabs my fingers before securing them firmly in his hand. My gaze locks on his. “You’re not alone. I’m here with you.”
“Cassidy?”
I flinch as my dad’s deep voice cuts through the air.
It takes effort to clear my throat and find my voice. “I-I’m in the basement.” There’s no denying the thin waver that snakes its way through my words.
My father doesn’t respond as we make our way up the stairs to the kitchen where we find him leaning stiffly against the granite counter, his thickly-muscled arms crossed over his chest.
His eyes narrow on Cole and the hockey bag slung over his shoulder. After a long silent moment, his attention shifts to me. There is no warmth within his eyes as they lock on mine.
From the time I was a small child, people have commented on how much I resemble my dad. We have the same blue eyes and jet-black hair. But that’s where the physical similarities end, because my dad is a hulking man who stands over six feet tall. He’s solid. Built for defense. I’m petite like my mother. More finely-boned. Built for speed.
Without any pleasantries, Dad starts in on me just like I feared he would. The last thing I need is for Cole to have a front row seat to our family dysfunction. And I certainly don’t want him to hear my father’s version of what transpired last year. The picture he’ll paint will undoubtedly be ugly.
“The neighbors called to let me know someone was breaking into the house. You’re damn lucky they contacted me first instead of the police.”
It’s doubtful this situation will turn out to be a blessing for me. Being picked up for a little B&E would be preferable to the confrontationmy dad is set on having. Although, I’m smart enough to keep those thoughts to myself.
“We didn’t break in,” I murmur, hoping he won’t lose his shit and start foaming at the mouth.
“Why didn’t you call and let us know you’d be stopping by? Why slink in here when you know perfectly well that we’d be at work?”
I’m fairly certain the answer to that question is painfully obvious to all three of us.
Instead of admitting truth, I say, “This was the only time we had between classes, and it was a spur of the moment decision.” It’s doubtful that I’m fooling anyone.
Including Cole.
Having him witness this exchange makes me want to cringe.
Dad’s hard gaze shifts before silently scrutinizing Cole. My father doesn’t say a word as his attention jerks back to mine.
He shakes his head as if I’ve managed to disappoint him all over again. “I thought you would have learned your lesson after last year, Cassidy. It’s obvious that you haven’t.”
I turn to Cole before Dad can get any more wound up and murmur, “Could you wait for me in the car?”
I want him out of this house and away from my father. This is humiliating enough without him witnessing anything more.
Cole’s concerned gaze bounces between my father and me. “I’ll stay if you want me to.”
Even though I normally find Cole’s presence comforting, I shake my head. “No, it’s fine. I’ll be out in a minute.” I silently plead for him not to argue. “All right?”
Tension fills every line of his face as he jerks his head into a tight nod before hesitantly backing out of the large, sun-filled kitchen. My dad and I remain silent until we hear the front door close quietly behind him.
His furious gaze never relinquishes mine. Any moment, I’ll squirm like a six-year-old caught making mischief.
My father has always been blunt, and he cuts right to the heart of the matter as he stabs a finger at me. “That’s no longer your equipmentto take. You forfeited it when you got kicked off the team and flunked out of college.”
The razor-sharp comments leave me wincing, but I keep my face an emotionless mask. I’ll be damned if he sees how much his words and attitude are still able to inflict damage. Sometimes it’s difficult to believe we were ever close. I’m his eldest and the only daughter who followed him into hockey. He used to be so proud of me and my accomplishments.
Both on and off the ice.
