Page 8 of Dangerous Silence
And here I was, coming to rip that away from her.
“Come on, Dad,” she said. “What’s going on? Why didn’t you call me sooner?”
Shep said nothing. He lifted his eyelids, and once he saw her, a full smile crossed his face. He wouldn’t speak. The rest of us knew that he was trying to avoid having another flare-up, but Demi? She only knew that her dad wasn’t speaking.
“Come on,” she said. “What’s going on?”
She flipped around. The group in the kitchen turned away, pretending to be busy cleaning and eating. The nurse buried her head in Shep’s vitals. Then Demi’s eyes landed on me.
“What the hell are you staring at?” she asked.
It took a lot of nerve to say something like that to me. I’m tall, with broad shoulders, thick arms, and one hell of a core. Anyone can tell I’m a man who likes to eat, but no one can deny that I’m built like steel. More than capable of taking a tiny mermaid girl, wadding her up into a ball, and throwing her back out to sea.
She was so sure of herself. So sure of me.
My scalp prickled. I cleared my throat, running a hand over my facial hair, then narrowed my eyes at her. The pungent smell of sour milk drifted from the bed. Demi shifted away, finally looking back to her father, the only thing that truly mattered to her.
CHAPTER 2
Demi
It was hot in that room, like we were all in a furnace, watching my dad roast to death. I pulled off my sweatshirt, leaving it on the floor, then grabbed his hand, tucking it inside both of mine. A loose strand of half-purple, half-blue-green hair, landed on our grip. I blew on it, not wanting to let go of him. The blue-green and purple color always reminded me of a sunset in a tropical paradise. Sage City had beaches, but I never thought of this place as paradise. It was just home. And my hair was a way to show Dad that I was on my own now. Hair he refused to let me color when I was in grade school. Said it was a waste of money. That I had beautiful, rich chocolate brown hair like my mother. Why would I ruin it with bleach and cheap dye?
But he hadn’t said a single word about my hair. He even smiled at me. Like he was pretending not to notice what I had done, deliberately going against his wishes.
That’s how bad his condition was. He didn’t have the energy to fight.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I whispered. I squeezed his hand and he grimaced. Heat washed over me again, a heaviness spreading across my chest. Was I that terrible of a daughter? I knew he was sick, but how had I been gone for three weeks and in that time, he had takenthatfar of a plunge? Did he think I wouldn’t be able to handle it?
Why did I leave? Was going to college that important now?
I shouldn’t have left. This was my fault. I could have done something. If I had stayed.
“You needed to be on your own,” he said, his voice withered, half of what it used to be. A ball grew in the pit of my stomach, anger tightening my throat. I would have given anything to hear his voice full of rage, anger at me for bad grades, for bad behavior, for everything bad, bad,bad, just to know that he had that strength still inside of him.
But there was none of that left anymore.
I shook my head. “Bullshit,” I said.
“Demi,” he whispered.
My eyes flicked down. Yeah. Dad hated when I cursed. But I needed to get it out. I had thought we had at least a few more years left, but this? This sudden change? The nurse appeared on his other side, checking his IV.
“You have a nurse,” I said, stating the obvious. She pretended not to hear me. “When did this happen?”
No one moved or said a word. Not even the ogre with the butt-shaped lips standing in the hallway. A tight black shirt covered his chest, matching his black pants, belt, and shoes. He sucked the color right out of the room. That ogre looked like he was itching to say something.
Then it hit me. Dad had held on, hadn’t he? He had stayed strong until I was on my own.
“Damn it,” I said. Tears welled in my eyes. “I should have come home sooner.”
Dad smiled. “You’re here now,” he said. “That’s what matters.”
I swallowed a dry lump, then the ogre cleared his throat again. I snapped my head around, scowling at him.
“Give your father some dignity,” he said.
I turned to the men in the kitchen, then glanced at the nurse. I didn’t know any of these people. The nurse likely didn’t know anyone, but the men? These extra people? Who were they? Why were they in my house?
