Hook Up Daddy

by Naomi Niles

  “Nah, I’ve got it. We can call it payment for the session, Dr. Freud.”

  “I think you very much want to sleep wit yur mudder!”

  I had to laugh at his terrible impression, if not the sickness of the statement. “Fuck you, Freud.”

  Chapter Twelve

  AMBER

  I was almost in tears as I raced out of Kyle’s loft and down to my car. My hands were shaking so badly that I could barely get the key into the lock. When I finally got into the car, I just sat there for a few seconds trying to prepare myself for the battle that was about to come. I sucked in enough air to settle myself down slightly and then I started the engine and drove towards Marlene’s house. The drive was about thirty minutes long, and I cussed everyone on the road in between. The anxiety was building up with each minute that passed.

  When I got close to the house, I was relieved to see there was at least no smoke and flames, but as I rounded the corner my stomach fell when I saw Dylan and two policemen in the front yard. I thought about just driving on by, but Dylan saw me. His dark eyes stayed on me until I parked the car and got out.

  “Here she is now,” he said. His speech sounded clear, for Dylan at three a.m.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Are you Amber Reed?” one of the officers asked me.

  “Yes sir.”

  “Is this man your boyfriend?”

  I looked at Dylan and hoped the disgust I was feeling wasn’t readily evident on my face. “He’s my ex-boyfriend.” I heard the front door open behind me. My poor sister looked frazzled. I reached my hand out to her and she took it. “Can someone tell me what’s going on?”

  “I called the police because he was beating on the door and saying he was going to burn the house down.”

  “I didn’t say that, you stupid-”

  “Watch it,” the cop warned him.

  “Sorry…Sir. I was looking for Amber and this one,” he said, looking at Marlene with disdain, “she wouldn’t tell me where she was. I was…worried.”

  “He wasn’t worried, he was jealous,” Marlene said. “And he did say he was going to burn my house down. I have a six-year-old daughter. He woke her up and scared her to death.”

  “Lying cunt,” Dylan mumbled under his breath.

  I’d come over here with the idea that I would calm him down, even go home with him if that’s what it took. That word always sets me off, however, and without regard to how long they would keep him or what he would do to me when he was out I said, “I have proof that he said it.” Dylan and Marlene both looked at me with shock on their faces. I hate that I’ve become the woman that everyone thinks is comfortable being the victim. “Can I play the message for you, sir?”

  “Sure,” the cop said. The look he was giving Dylan told me this cop would love nothing more than to see him cuffed and in the back of his car.

  “Amber…” Dylan began.

  “Shut up,” the second cop interrupted him. I pulled up the voicemail and pressed play. Dylan’s voice wafted out. “Where the fuck are you, Amber? If you’re out whoring around, I suggest you get your ass back to your sister’s house now before I burn this mother-fucker down with her and whoever else is in there inside.”

  When the message finished playing the cop said, “Can you show me who the message is from?” I showed him where it said Dylan’s name and number. He looked over at my former boyfriend and said, “That sounded an awful lot like a terrorist threat to me, Mr. Lane.”

  “I was mad. You can check me and my truck man; I don’t even have a light.”

  “He carries his handgun in the compartment underneath the floorboard of his pick-up. There are also matches and other emergency supplies in there. I think if you check the back end of his pick-up, you’ll find a five gallon container of gas.” I heard myself, but still couldn’t believe I was saying these things right in front of him. If the look on his face was any indication, I was going to be in a world of hurt when he got out of jail.

  “You little bitch!”

  “Mr. Lane, turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

  “What the fuck for?”

  “You’re under arrest sir for making terrorist threats-”

  “You’re going to be sorry, bitch!” he said as the cop slammed him forward into the wall of the house and pulled his beefy arms behind his back. “You fucking little-”

  “I’d shut up now if I were you,” the cop said. “You have the right to remain silent…” While they read Dylan his rights, Marlene gripped my hand so tightly that it hurt. Dylan quieted down, but the after the cop cuffed him and led him over to the car, the look he gave me sent a surge of fear ripping through my body.

  The second cop was searching the truck. He found the gun that I knew for a fact wasn’t registered. Dylan had bought it off of one of his rodeo buddies and the serial numbers were filed off. He also found the matches I knew Dylan carried for those nights on the road when he had to camp out and the gasoline he always carried in back for those long stretches on the country roads in between gas stations. All I could hope at this point was that they’d keep him at least for a while.

  Once he was in the car, the first cop came back and explained to Marlene and me how to file for a restraining order for when he did get out. He said one of the terms if he did get bail would be to stay away from those that he had threatened. That didn’t make me feel a lot better. Dylan does what Dylan wants and ninety percent of the time, he doesn’t consider the consequences. He was currently staring daggers at me from the backseat of the police cruiser. I wouldn’t be surprised if I suddenly burst into flames.

  “Let’s go in out of the cold,” Marlene told me as the cop was driving away. We went inside and she put on a pot of coffee. There was no way that either of us was getting any sleep now, anyways.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  She made her face that I call, “Mom face.” She looks just like our mother when she does it. “What are you sorry for? You didn’t do anything. As a matter of fact, I’m really proud of you for standing up the way that you did.”

  I shrugged. “I feel so bad for getting you and poor little Nona involved in all of this. Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine. I told her Uncle Dylan was sick and the police were going to come and take him to see the doctor. She bought it, and she’s sleeping like an angel now. But you know what?”

  “What?”

  “Part of this craziness with that man is you taking responsibility for the things that he does. He did this tonight, and you are not to blame for it. I’m going to go and get that restraining order Monday morning…I hope you are, too.”

  “I will, but you know that a piece of paper won’t make a difference to him when he’s drunk.”

  “I do know that, but I want to make sure if he does show up and I call the police, he leaves here in handcuffs every time. Eventually, maybe he’ll get sick of it and stay away.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I just wish he’d find someone else…”

  Marlene laughed. “You’re wishing him on some other poor woman?”

  I laughed, too. “True, I guess that’s bad, huh? The thing about Dylan is none of this is about how he feels about me. This is about him thinking I’m his property and hating to be alone when he’s home.”

  “You have to prove to him that you don’t belong to anyone but yourself. How did your date take your sudden departure?”

  I gritted my teeth. “I may have ruined it. I was freaking out worrying about you and Nona. I told him I had to leave because you were sick, but he saw Dylan’s name pop up on my phone. He wasn’t happy with my sketchy explanation.”

  “Maybe you should go see him today and give him a less than sketchy explanation.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m just getting to know Kyle, but I get the feeling that he would feel like he needs to ‘save me.’”

  “That’s bad?”

  “Well, yeah. First of all I’m a grown woman, I don’t want to be saved. Se
cond of all, he’s recovering from a major illness and operation. He doesn’t need the stress of taking on something like this.”

  “So if he walks away now, you just let him go?”

  I shrugged. “I guess I’ll cross that bridge if and when I come to it. I’m more worried that this will screw up the determination he’s shown in therapy. He’s come a long way in a short time and I don’t want him to feel uncomfortable with me. This is why you shouldn’t date patients.”

  “Then why did you?”

  “I just can’t stop thinking about him.” It was more than that, but I had no idea how to explain it. When he was near me, it was a wonder that any rational thought could slip through. My mind was clouded with a completely overwhelming sense that this is the guy – the one I was meant to be with. It wouldn’t make any sense if I tried to put it in words, so I just left it at that.

  Chapter Thirteen

  KYLE

  Sarah came over to my dad’s house on Sunday with the specific intentions of lecturing me – and trying to find out who my date was with. She finally just came right out and said, “Was it Amber?”

  Frustrated that she thought everything in my life was her business I said, “No.”

  “Are you kidding? That girl is so sweet, and I think she really likes you. Are you just going to play around with the plastic ones forever? Are you never going to settle down with a nice girl and give me nieces and nephews?” I looked at my dad for help. He hid his face behind his Guns and Ammo magazine.

  “Jesus, Sarah. It was Amber, okay?”

  “Why didn’t you just say so?”

  “Because I’m not fourteen and I have a right to some privacy in my life.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Do you need a ride to therapy tomorrow?” My stomach clenched at the thought of seeing Amber. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about her hasty departure.

  “Greg said he can take me.”

  “Oh, so you call him when you fall and now he’s taking you to therapy… Did you two make up?”

  “Are you worried I’m stealing your bestie?”

  She laughed. “He’s a good guy who made a stupid mistake.” Dad grunted behind his magazine. Smiling, Sarah said, “Did you have something to say over there Chief Cloud?” She has called my dad “Chief” since we were little and she found out he’s half Cherokee.

  He lowered the magazine. “Nope,” was all he said before he raised it and covered his face again. She just shook her head at him.

  “So, what did the doctor say about your head? These stitches look gnarly.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You know what I mean. How many did you get?”

  “Nine.”

  “Shit! When you crack your head, you do it right.”

  I grinned. “Everyone has to be good at something.”

  “So, what did he say?”

  “He said not to crack it on the floor anymore.”

  “You’re such a little butt!”

  “He didn’t say anything, Sarah. He stitched me up, gave me some drugs, and sent me on my way. That’s it…all good.”

  “He didn’t say anything about you being alone?”

  “No,” I lied. “We didn’t even talk about it. I think I’m going to take a nap.” I made my escape and left my poor dad to deal with her. In my room, I took out my phone and held my finger over Amber’s number. I sighed and set the phone down. I had no idea what to say. I didn’t want to sound like a jealous creep, but I also didn’t want her to think that I was the kind of guy who wanted a girl I had to share. I finally said screw it and took that nap. I’m sure that was the better choice.

  ******

  I felt like a teenager in lust on my way to therapy Monday morning. Greg wasn’t in a talkative mood, thankfully, so I was alone with my thoughts. I had looked at this thing from so many angles since the other night and I settled on asking her if she was really done with the ex…and asking her out again if she said yes. The bottom line was that I wanted her and if and when we ever make a commitment to each other, then I would have a right to be upset about who she ran off in the middle of the night to see…and not before then.

  Greg dropped me off and went to run some errands, so I was on my own when I went in. I didn’t see Amber behind the counter, so I signed in and went to wait in the lobby. A few minutes later, a pretty black lady called me back.

  “Hi, Kyle, I’m Joyce. Amber’s not in today, so I’m going to be helping you.” I felt like someone kicked me in the gut.

  “Oh…okay…where is she? Amber?”

  She gave me a look that pretty much told me she knows about mine and Amber’s feelings for each other. “She’s not feeling well. She’ll probably be out all week.”

  “All week? Is she sick?”

  She stopped walking and looked around. There were other therapists and patients in the gym, but no one was paying attention to us. “She’s took some personal time, Kyle. That’s really all I know.”

  “Oh…okay.” My therapy was a joke after that. I had no energy to put into it. All my thoughts were on Amber and why she wasn’t here. Of course, I had to wonder if this was about the boyfriend. I actually did such a bad job that I felt the need to apologize to Joyce as she walked me out. “I’m sorry I was kind of out of it today.” I decided to make the lie as close to the truth as possible and I said, “I fell over the weekend and cracked my big head again. I think it just really wore me down.”

  “Oh, no! I thought the stitches were still from your other surgery. How did you fall?” I told the abbreviated version of the story and she said, “You know, Kyle, I saw you the first day you came in here. You’re doing really well, but don’t push yourself too hard. Sometimes we have to ask for help, whether we want to or not.”

  “Yeah, I’m finding that out the hard way. Thank you, Joyce. I’ll do better on Wednesday.”

  She winked at me. “I’m sure you will, and don’t worry about Amber. She’ll be back next week.”

  That fact only made me worry more. If she had planned a week off, wouldn’t she have told me? The fact that she just took it out of the blue like this was what made me worry. I rolled out front and texted Greg first that I was done. He texted me back that he was about ten minutes away and would head right over. Then I bit the bullet and text Amber,

  “Hey, just leaving therapy. I did a really shitty job. Are you okay?”

  I got one back that said, “Kyle?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Marlene, I’m Amber’s sister. Amber is in the hospital.”

  “Oh my God, what happened? Is she okay?”

  “She’s at Presbyterian Hospital in room 321.”

  “Will they let me see her?”

  “Yes, but she’s going to be pissed that I told you.”

  “I won’t tell. Thank you.”

  When Greg got there, I had him take me straight to the hospital. My heart was slamming against the wall in my chest and I felt like I was having an anxiety attack not knowing what was going on. I went straight to her room and Greg waited in the lobby. When I got there, there was a woman about Sarah’s age coming out of the room. She looked at the wheelchair and said, “Kyle?”

  “Yes, Marlene?”

  “Yeah,” she smiled. “That was fast.”

  “I was at the clinic. What’s wrong with her?”

  Marlene sighed and rolled her eyes. “She’s insane,” she said.

  I was confused. “She’s mentally ill?”

  She chuckled, but she looked sad. “No, not technically. Can we sit for a minute?”

  “Yes, of course.” I rolled over where there was a small lobby and she sat down. She looked exhausted and I wondered how long Amber had been here. She looked like she had a lot on her mind, though, so I waited for her to talk. Finally she said,

  “Amber started dating this guy named Dylan when she was about fifteen. None of us liked him from the very beginning and I regret now that we told her that. She was rebellious back then and trying to stand out
amongst three sisters. She probably kept dating him more for that reason than any other. Dylan is a mean drunk. He puts her down and treats her like his personal slave. She’s put up with it for nine years. Every so often she’d leave for a day or two, but he’d come around and be sweet and remorseful and she would forgive him. He had her so worn down that she didn’t believe she was worthy of being treated any better.”

  “Does he hurt her?” My stomach felt like it was on fire and a hot rage began to burn in my chest.

  “In the past, it’s always been verbal and emotional abuse. But recently…I don’t know… My personal opinion is that he’s using something stronger than alcohol. His behavior has been so erratic. Friday night when she was with you, he was at my house looking for her. He threatened to burn it down with me and my daughter inside.”

  “Shit, I’m sorry…”

  She smiled. “Don’t be. There are no words other than profanity to describe this animal that passes himself off as a man. They took him to jail that night, but Dylan has a lot of friends in Dallas. His father was a professional cowboy and he won the NFR in Vegas his last three years on the circuit. He’s retired now and sits on the city council. Dylan is a fuck-up and always has been, but every time he gets in trouble, Daddy bails him out. He had him out of jail in six hours. Amber and I hadn’t even had time to file a restraining order before he showed back up yesterday evening, drunk or high on whatever he’s taking.” I could feel my blood pressure rising as she talked.

  “Did he hurt her?”

  “He was banging on the door and hollering for Amber. I told her to call the cops and not go out, but she thought she could talk him down. She went outside and I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it seemed like he was calmer after a little bit. She came and told me she was going to drive him home. She was afraid he would hurt someone out driving around like that. I begged her not to. I even offered to call a cab and pay for it… She insisted that it needed to be her because if he went by cab, he’d just have the cab drop him off at a bar or something. When they left, she was driving his pick-up. I got a call about two hours later that there had been an accident. The cop told me that Amber claimed she was driving, but he thought Dylan was. The truck went off the road into a ravine.”