Page 4 of Dagger's Property
“What about your classes?”
“They’re recorded. I can watch them whenever I want.”
“It sounds like you’ve been making a habit of coming home drunk.”
I have one guess who told him that: my mother.
“Are you telling me you didn’t party when you were in college, Vale?” The guy is a member of a motorcycle club. He still parties.
“Heard you’ve been giving your mom hell. You want to tell me why? You should feel lucky that they’re letting you live under their roof while you’re going to school. They don’t have to do that, Wyn.”
I climb out of bed, knowing there’s not a chance in hell I’ll get back to sleep. My nerves have been shrugged awake, rubbed raw by the fact that my mother decided to bait him against me. It’s time for a shower and then to have some heavy carbs before I find out what my friends are up to tonight. A little hair of the dog may be just what I need.
“Where are you going?”
“To shower.”
“We’re not done, Wynter.”
Yes, we are.
I shut the bathroom door and reach for the sink, breathing in deep, trying to ward off the nausea that’s creeping in— along with all the unwanted thoughts. First my mom. Then Martin, and now, Vale. I’m a disappointment to all of them. Maybe I should pack my things and move. It looks like none of them wantme here, and I refuse to be considered a leach. The only reason I stayed was because Martin asked me to. He told me that it didn’t make sense to spend all that money on campus housing when I could live at home and save the money for later. Now, the waitlist for housing is so long, I’ll have to wait until next year. Or maybe it’s time to cut my losses and just go get a job.
4
Dagger
Fuck me. She looks like shit. Don’t think I’ve ever seen her look anything other than perfect. Wynter has always been undeniably gorgeous, but she’s hurtin’. I’m not sure what the hell is going on with her, but it’s more than just a night of drinking. Judging by the dark circles around her eyes, you’d think she’s been up for days.
The shower turns on and I take a seat at her desk. I’m not going anywhere until I get to the bottom of this. And the first thing I want to know is how the hell she’s getting served. She’s twenty years old, which means she’s either got a fake ID or someone’s serving a minor. Neither of that shit am I okay with.
I start looking around for her wallet, noting the big stack of books on her desk, which looks like it hasn’t even been touched. And her notebooks are filled with nothin’ but doodles and sketches. There isn’t a single note taken for class. Her drawers only contain some old photos of our cat, Prince. Wyn loved thatlittle guy. If we ever couldn’t find him, we knew to look in her room. He was usually curled up with her as she was reading a book.
I shove the pictures back in and search the rest of the drawers but still come up empty. She must’ve taken a purse last night. But one scan of her room, and I don’t see anything. I’d rifle through her dirty clothes, but I don’t want her walking out and catching me digging through her dirty underwear. She’ll think I’m a pervert.
Her backpack, laying open against her desk, is my last hope.Gafford Prison. The fuck? The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I pull out the letter from within. Motherfucker is not supposed to be contacting her.
Dear Wynter,
It’s been a long time,daughter. Hope you’re doing well, and that that bitch of a mother of yours is treating you right. How is the stupid cunt anyway? Is she still married to that bastard? I wish I’d taken his life when I had the chance. Maybe I’ll get the chance after all. I’m coming up for parole next month and my attorney thinks I have a pretty good shot at getting out. He says all I have to do is prove that I’m rehabilitated, and with my record of good behavior, I should have no problem being released.
Which is why I’m writing. I need you to come to the hearing and plead my case for me. If you testify that I’ve changed and that you think I’m fit to be out on the streets, they should let me go. I don’t think it’s too much to ask. After all, I gave you life and cared for you after your mom ran off with that fucker and left us behind. I was a broken man and stuck raising a little girl all by myself. How the hell is anyone supposed to cope with allthat and not lose their shit? I know I didn’t handle things well, but I hope you can understand where my head was at that time. I’ve since learned the error in my ways and hope you know I would never hurt you again.
If you’ve ever loved me, then you’ll show up at the hearing and do your dad this small favor.
I’ll have my attorney reach out soon.
See you next month, daughter.
Your dad,
Sal Walstom
That motherfucker is goingto die. And now I know why Wynter’s gone off the rails. The letter is dated from last week, which would explain this recent drinking binge she’s been on. He was warned never to contact her again. But now he’s trying to give her a guilt trip into testifying for his rotten ass. Hell will freeze over before I let that man breathe another second of freedom. I need to have a word with King. It’s time to deal with the bastard once and for all.
The shower shuts off, and I quickly tuck the letter in its envelope and back where I found it. I sit in her desk chair as I wait for her to exit. The door opens and she comes walking out, wearing nothing but a goddamn towel wrapped on the top of her head. Fuck.
“What the fuck are you still doing here, Vale?”
