Page 10 of The 13th Daughter
"Get me another beer."
I cringed. He so did not need another beer, but I knew better than to argue with him. I took one out of the fridge and handed it over. Hauling up my bookbag, I started to get my own food when he stopped me.
"Sit down, CJ. I want to talk to you."
I eyed the doorway and contemplated escape. Instead, I picked up my plate and sat down across from him. I took a bite of the turkey sandwich and waited. He seemed uneasy. He was drunk, but it was more than that. He looked almost...afraid. Nervous eyes scanned the room and he drummed the fingertipsof one hand on the table. His other hand shook as he took a drink.
"Do you go see Emily a lot?"
I swallowed hard. I hadn't expected that.
"I do," he continued. "At least once a day."
"I didn't know that," I whispered. Maybe he wasn't as drunk as I thought.
"I lost her, CJ. I can't lose you too."
"You're not going to lose me, Dad. Why would you think that?"
"You're almost eighteen," he said. "They'll be pestering you to start coming to the meetings soon. You can't go."
"Why would they..."
"You're almost eighteen," he interrupted. "Don't go near them."
"Why does it matter how old I am?" I asked, confused. "They always pester me to go and I don't. It's all just a bunch of nonsense."
"Doesn't matter if you believe in it or not," he shook his head. "They'll try and get you there one way or another. Don't do it."
"Why?" I asked. I didn't understand. Why didn't he want me to go? He'd been a loyal Coven member for as long as I could remember. After Emily's accident he'd stopped going, but I'd figured it was because he was in pain. She loved everything about the Coven and I thought the meetings had reminded him too much of that. Now, I wasn't so sure. He looked frightened at the thought of me going to one of them. "What's wrong, Daddy?"
He grabbed my wrist in a death grip, his fingers crushing. "You will never go near the Coven, Cassie Jayne. Do you understand me?" Anger boiled in his voice. His eyes turned black in their rage. He scared me.
"Dad, you're hurting me," I cried and tried to pull my hand away. All I managed to do was wrench not only my wrist, but myshoulder as well. Pain shot all the way up to my shoulder. He let go of me, his expression a little crazy. I rubbed my wrist. Ugly red marks decorated it. That was going to bruise.
He looked at me with wild eyes. "You don't understand. You're almost eighteen..."
"Roger."
Our heads whipped around. Mom stood in the doorway, glaring holes into Dad.
"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, blue eyes flaming with anger. She took one look at my wrist and her face paled. "Roger, what did you do? CJ, are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Mom."
Dad was staring at my wrist. He looked horrified at what he'd done. "CJ..."
"It's okay, Dad. You didn't mean to do it." I knew he hadn't meant to hurt me. No matter how drunk he'd get, he'd never lifted a hand against me or Mom. Ever. No, it was fear that had caused him to lose control. But fear of what?
"No, it's not okay." Mom slammed the top of the freezer shut. She wrapped the ice pack in a dishtowel and handed it to me. "Put that on your wrist, honey. It'll keep the swelling down. Why don't you go to your room? Your dad and I need to talk."
"Mom..."
"Upstairs, Cassie Jayne. Now."
Uh-oh, the MOM voice. I grabbed my bookbag and left without another word. Upstairs, I dropped my bag on my bed and changed into some pajamas. I let the ice sit on my wrist for a few minutes before checking it. Sure enough I could see the faint tinge of purple that heralded the onset of an ugly bruise. It hadn't hurt all that much until I looked at it. Now it ached up my entire arm and my shoulder pulsed with pain from where I'd wrenched it trying to get free. How was I going to explain this at school?
My stomach growled and I let out a frustrated groan. My food was still on the kitchen table downstairs and I was starved. No help for it now. Homework, I thought. I'd try to do some homework. AP chemistry, however, did not take my mind off my aching wrist or my dad.
