Transparent

by Natalie Whipple

“Aw, you didn’t have to do that.” I take it from him and crack the cap.

  “I know, but you deserve it.”

  I take a long drink. He’s awful. The second he thinks he has me, he turns into this amazingly kind person. He’s calm, a pleasant smile on his face like he has everything under control.

  It’s infuriating.

  “Dad, is it okay if I lay down? I’m so tired,” I say after I finish off the Coke.

  “Of course.” He points to a spot at Mom’s and Graham’s feet. “We still have a little time. Soon enough you’ll be back in your old room with your big, soft bed. Right where you belong.”

  I don’t actually sleep. I lay there on the hard floor, thinking of a way to get out. I’d hoped it’d be easier, but there’s no time to plan with him watching over us. The next chance we get—if we even get one—we have to take.

  Fabric shifts behind me, but I don’t move. I figure it’s Mom, since Graham is still weak and Miles is fake snoring. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

  I hold my breath, wondering if Dad will let her, hoping this is our chance.

  “Use the sink.” His voice is cold.

  “Jonas,” Mom says it softly, the smallest hint of flirtation. I try not to shudder. “Please. Fiona will watch the door for you, and I’ll be fast.”

  There’s a long pause. I venture a peek, just because the silence seems to go on forever. He glares at her, but then his face cracks, making it look like he actually cares. “You better be quick.” Dad shakes me hard. “Fiona.”

  “Huh?” I do my best groggy voice.

  “Watch the door again.”

  “Of course.”

  The second he leaves, I get to work undressing. This is it—our last chance to get the upper hand.

  “What’re you doing?” Graham asks.

  “Hide those under your pillow.” I toss him my clothes. “Miles, find some kind of weapon, something to throw. I’m going to try and get him from the back.”

  “Fi, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Miles says as he grabs the jug of laundry detergent. Kind of a pathetic defense, but we don’t have much else.

  “We’re not wasting this opportunity. Shh.” I climb onto the dryer by the door, get a firm footing so I don’t have to move. My heart won’t stop pounding. If I fail, Dad will kill us all.

  Out of nowhere, it sounds like a wrecking ball hit our house, complete with walls cracking. I gasp, realizing what—or who—it is. Without another thought, I jump off the dryer and out the door. Dad’s in the hall, his fingers dug into Mom’s arm. He points his gun, but I can’t see around the corner.

  “Fiona!” Seth cries.

  Dad pulls the trigger.

  Chapter 38

  Seth. Everyone’s saying his name. Tony’s voice stands out, just because I’ve only heard it a couple times. Carlos sounds like he’s crying, the way he repeats it over and over. Brady whispers it like a prayer. Joey’s the only one yelling for them to take cover. I don’t have to see to know what happened.

  My dad shot my boyfriend.

  Rage. Years of it boil to the surface as I charge down the hall. I tackle my dad from behind, managing to get his arms locked behind him. “Mom! Get his weapon!”

  “Fiona!” he cries. “I’m gonna kill you!”

  I know he means it, but I focus on keeping his arms down. Mom holds her hands out, and Dad grunts as he tries to resist her telekinesis. Another shot fires, this time into the floor.

  He’s strong, far stronger than me. The attack only worked because I took him off guard, and I can’t hold him much longer. “Mom, hurry!”

  “Trying!” She pushes her hands down, like she’s pantomiming.

  “You little bitch,” Dad spits. “You conned me! Your own father!”

  “You’ve conned me my whole life!” As hard as I fight, I’m losing ground. He pushes back, and I know I’m about to slam into the wall.

  But instead, he flies out of my arms. I look up, surprised to find Brady. “That’s enough.”

  The gun floats by Dad’s head, pointed with precision. Mom smiles. “You shouldn’t have come, Jonas. I hate seeing you like this.”

  “How?” he says through his teeth.

  Miles coughs, and we all turn to find him standing in the hall, still holding the detergent. “I guess I’m not exactly worthless after all. Finally got your scent, which is just what you always feared, right?”

  Dad stops fighting Brady’s hold, his face slack with shock. I can’t imagine what’s going through his head, and I don’t particularly care. I have other people to worry about, others who need protecting. “You …”

  My brother stands face-to-face with him, and for a second I’m taken aback by how much they look alike. “I know that’s why you made sure to tell me I was worthless, why you stayed as far away from me as you could.”

  Dad’s eyes are hard. “I should have killed you.”

  “Yup.” Miles smiles wickedly. “But I seemed too stupid and apathetic to notice, didn’t I? Why get Mom and Fiona worked up over nothing? Couldn’t risk doing something so horrible even your smell couldn’t make them listen to you again.”

  Dad says nothing, which says it all.

  I stare at them, stunned. For years, my unassuming brother patiently waited for the right moment to get his revenge: the moment he could ensure our freedom.

  “Miles, is there rope anywhere?” Brady says. “If I hold him any longer I may end up doing something I really don’t want to do.”

  The reality of Seth, bloody and lying on the kitchen floor, finally registers. I run for my clothes, trying not to think about how I was standing there naked in front of a bunch of guys … one of whom can see me. I shudder anyway.

  Once I have my clothes on, I push my way through The Pack. “Seth!”

  “Fi …” His eyes meet mine, and suddenly I’m crying.

  It looks so bad. His entire shoulder is red. “Why did you barge in? I told you I could handle it.”

  He gives me a weak grin. “You’re lecturing me? Really?”

  Stupid boy, making me smile. I know why he did it. He could see my dad wasn’t near me at that moment. He thought he could give me an opportunity to escape. I put my hand on his chest, trying to push back this crying fit. “This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen.”

  “Fiona.” Hector puts his hand on my shoulder, his face too close to mine. “It’ll be okay.”

  “What?”

  “It. Will. Be. Fine.” His eyes are determined, so much so that I have to believe him. “Just get your dad out of here. As fast as you can.”

  “Okay.” I head over to my dad. He doesn’t look threatening at all. His hair is messy, and sweat beads at his forehead. The lines around his eyes seem more prominent. Without his charming ability, he’s just a man. An old man.

  He’s pathetic, and yet I’m more disgusted with myself for not seeing it sooner. We might have been able to take him down years ago, if we were more of a family and hadn’t played into his games. It’s like he knew the second we united, he wouldn’t be able to handle us.

  “It doesn’t matter if you run,” he says. “My men will be here soon, and we’ll hunt you down.”

  I scoff. “Oh, we’re not leaving. You’re going back to Las Vegas and pretending this never happened.”

  Now he’s the one laughing. “Like hell I am. I will kill you all. With my own hands.”

  “I don’t know, Dad.” Miles folds his arms. “Sounds like a pretty good deal to me. You leave us alone; we leave you alone.”

  “Or I could murder you all, teach everyone what happens when you defy me.”

  I sigh, knowing we have the upper hand whether he’ll admit it or not. “Miles, maybe you should call Spud right now, let her know Jonas O’Connell got whipped by his worthless son. Make sure all the syndicates know there’s someone out there who can nullify his charms, maybe even lots of people if Miles wants to share the scent. What do you think? The whole world could know in, like, an hour?”r />
  “Eh, thirty minutes.”

  Dad’s lip curls. “You’re bluffing. You don’t even know her number.”

  Miles smiles. “Oh, I know her number, and what her bedspread looks like, if you catch my drift.”

  “Liar!” Dad yells. “You really think I’d believe Spud would look at you?”

  Graham clears his throat, and we all turn to find him leaning against the wall. “Remember that last hack? It had Spud written all over it, though the handle was SweetBabyM.”

  Miles curses. “So that’s how you guys guessed? That’s what I get for calling in a favor. It’s like she wants me to come back and yell at her.”

  Dad’s mouth hangs open. Maybe our deal isn’t sounding so bad anymore.

  “So what do you say, Dad? We’d rather not let this get out—it’s not good for you or us. We don’t want syndicates poking around. We just want out.” I sit on the couch and try to act like this is a normal conversation. “You can go back and say we’re working on expanding your territory. No one has to know you got duped by your own family.

  No one has to know we can take away all your power in a heartbeat.”

  He’s silent, but I can tell he’s considering. It’s more than fair. I’m not looking to save the world here. I just want to protect my family and friends. I want to be free. Dad can go on doing what he does. For now. His syndicate is way too big to take down in one day anyway.

  Finally, he lets out a long breath, almost like a growl. “You don’t talk. I don’t talk.”

  “Hold out your hand so we can shake on it,” I say.

  He glares at me, and in his eyes I see fury. He plans to make us pay, but he won’t. Not if I have anything to say about it. I take his hand and smile. I really do like this winning thing. It feels great.

  Dad’s men pick him up fifteen minutes later, and he’s gone. I don’t have time to celebrate, not with two wounded people groaning in my house. Especially since they’re dying because of me. “What do we do? The hospital will ask so many questions …”

  “Seriously, when Hector said don’t worry, he meant it.” The black bulletproof car is barely out of the driveway when Joey puts his phone to his ear. “Mama.” He goes off in Spanish for a few seconds, and then says, “Adios.”

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  “You’ll see,” Carlos says. “This is the Navarros’ biggest secret, by the way.”

  “We really might kill you if you tell,” Hector adds.

  Seth and I lock eyes, and it’s clear he doesn’t know what they’re talking about, either. So we just have to wait, I guess.

  Bea arrives with Rosa not ten minutes later, her flour-smeared apron still on. She rushes over. “Move. Make room.” We do as she says, and she inspects Graham and Seth’s wounds. “Are the bullets still in there?”

  “Yes,” I say.

  “We need to get them out first.” She looks to my mom. “Do you have a large pair of tweezers?”

  Mom shakes her head. “No, but I can get them out.” She frowns. “It will probably hurt.”

  “Hurry,” Rosa commands. “The pain will be temporary.”

  Mom raises her hands, concentrating on the pieces of metal inside Seth and Graham. I watch, though I keep wondering if I’ll lose it. The queasiness comes in waves, but the thought of leaving them stops it. Not after all they tried to do for me. I owe them more than that.

  They scream when the bullets emerge from their skin. The blood flows anew. I crumble slightly, only to find Bea’s arms around me. “It’s okay, chica. Watch.”

  Rosa pulls a small knife from her pocket. She runs it across her palm, making a deep cut. Then she lets the blood drop onto each wound. More screaming, but it quickly subsides.

  I can hardly believe my eyes as the wounds close rapidly. There cannot be a person in this world with that kind of power. I have never heard of such a thing, and yet here it is. How many secret abilities are out there, I wonder, abilities so valuable no one dares speak of them? “Alejandro isn’t injured. You’re hiding out here. This is the real reason you pay Juan to leave you alone.”

  They all nod.

  “There was a really close call when he played soccer. She healed his knee, and people started to suspect. So he got reinjured and left. Dad won’t risk anyone finding out about Mom,” Tony says. “Wars could be started over stuff like this.”

  Seth sits up, rubbing his shoulder in disbelief. “Thank you, Rosa.”

  She smiles, putting her already-healed hand to his cheek. “You are like a son to me, Seth.” She glances at me. “What’s important to you is important to me.”

  His grin lights up his whole face, and he holds his arms out for me. “She’s pretty amazing, isn’t she?”

  I tackle him and kiss him, not caring what it looks like. “If you ever get shot again, I’ll kill you.”

  Everyone laughs as Seth whispers in my ear, “Thanks for fixing what I couldn’t.”

  I nuzzle into him. “Thanks for seeing what I can’t.”

  Those old family pictures fill my head again, with the kids huddled around a fireplace waiting to hear a story. I never thought I could be part of those pictures. Hell, I didn’t think I could have the blurry, bad-quality version. But now I feel like I’m standing in the scene right where I belong, surrounded by people I love. People who love me.

  It’s the best feeling in the world.

  Q & A with Natalie Whipple

  Where did you get the idea for TRANSPARENT?

  I’ve always been a huge fan of superheroes, and growing up my favourite TV show was The X-Men. But I’ve always thought that invisibility was handled in an ‘easy’ way in a lot of comics and shows, and it led me to wonder how it would feel to be permanently invisible instead of invisible at convenience.

  Fiona’s voice originally came out of those thoughts, and she blossomed into a character I just had to write a book about.

  Who is your ultimate superhero?

  In my actual life, I have to give that spot to my mom. She has always taught me to go for my dreams and to be confident in who I am. She is such a hard worker, and always thinks about others first. She makes the world a better place.

  As for traditional comic superheroes, I will always have a soft spot for Wolverine from The X-Men. Regeneration is an awesome ability to begin with, but the fact that he’s not perfect and even a little bit bad appeals to me. I think that concept shows a lot in TRANSPARENT, where many characters toe the line between good and bad.

  Also, on the playground as a child I was a bit of a bully, and the boys nicknamed me Wolverine because of my sharp nails. Which I was never shy about using. I was rather proud of that back then; now I feel bad.

  If you could have a superpower, what would it be?

  Teleportation. I know a lot of people pick flying, but I’d rather just be there instantly. I’ve always wanted to travel, but I’ve never quite had the funds to do so. It’d be so nice if I could just appear wherever I wanted. Then I could visit friends too far away, eat the best authentic food all the time, and see everything I’ve ever wanted to.

  What inspires your writing?

  Everything—songs, movies, books, news, people, nature, conversations. There are stories everywhere if you care to look. You just have to be bold enough to write them down.

  How did you first become an author?

  I became an official author (as in actually paid for a novel I’ve written) in 2011, when I sold TRANSPARENT to my US publisher, HarperTeen. It took me five years of trying to get published, ten completed novels, four attempts at securing an agent, and a book that failed in submission before it happened.

  It was a hard journey. There were times I didn’t think I’d make it, times I seriously considered giving up, times I wondered if I was any good at writing to begin with. But I kept going. And while I may have nine novels that will never see the light of day, all that work was worth it to finally reach my goal.

  All in all, it will have taken seven years from when I st
arted writing seriously to when TRANSPARENT is released upon the world.

  What was your earliest career aspiration?

  When I was little I wanted to be a writer. As I grew I also added teacher, comic book illustrator, animator, theatre designer, and linguistics professor to the mix. Somehow I ended up back at the childhood dream, as if it was waiting for me all along.

  What advice would you give to budding writers?

  Work hard. It’s one thing to dream about writing, and it’s another thing entirely to actually pursue it. The dream is filled with ease and wonderful things. The actual pursuit of writing is a lot of hard, tedious work. If you want the dream, put in the work to get it.

  Also, have fun. Which seems contradictory, but you have to enjoy what you’re writing, otherwise you won’t have the passion necessary to get through all the hard work. It’s not worth it if you don’t love what you’re doing.

  What were your favourite books when you were a child?

  I was a big Narnia fan. It’s really the only series I can remember reading as a child, though I know I read other things. I always came back to Narnia, and even now it’s the only series that I’ve ever reread.

  Where is your favourite place to write?

  I end up writing in bed mostly, since I have three small children and it’s the only place I can hide for a little peace and quiet. My husband is wonderful enough to watch them while I steal a couple hours to work.

  Natalie Whipple

  Natalie Whipple, sadly, does not have any cool mutations like her characters. Unless you count the ability to watch anime and Korean dramas for hours on end. Or her uncanny knack for sushi consumption. She currently lives in Utah with her husband and three children.

  Follow Natalie at

  betweenfactandfiction.blogspot.co.uk

  Twitter @nataliewhipple

  First published in Great Britain in 2013 by Hot Key Books

  Northburgh House, 10 Northburgh Street, London EC1V 0AT

  First published in the US in 2013 by HarperTeen, a division of HarperCollins

  Copyright © Natalie Whipple 2013