I bit my lip, telling myself I hadn’t done anything wrong by confronting him about my nap, but that angry expression on his face…
Sighing, I retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Steam still lingered, making my top dampen. I ignored it and grabbed the hair dryer, trying to concentrate on the task at hand, but a pit still formed in my stomach. A pit so big that it threatened to swallow me.
Shoving that feeling down, I plugged in the hair dryer and switched it on.
∞ ∞ ∞
We arrived at the restaurant at quarter to eight—all five of us. Logan and his friends formed a protective circle around me on the sidewalk while we walked, as if my stalker could attack from any angle on the quiet small town street.
When we stepped into the diner’s tiled entryway, I searched for my dad but didn’t see him.
A young woman probably not much older than me stood behind the hostess counter with a bored expression on her face. Scents of grease filled the air.
“Five?” the hostess asked and grabbed five menus. Gum snapped in her mouth as she glanced appreciatively at Jake.
Jake gave her a crooked smile.
A fierce blush filled her cheeks.
“No, just one.” I clutched my purse to my side, again searching the small diner for signs of my father.
“Oh.” The hostess dropped four of the menus back onto the pile. “Yeah, sure. Whatevs. If you want to follow me.”
Logan stepped closer to my side before saying under his breath, “We’ll be heading out, but I want you to know that I don’t like this, and I think I should stay.”
I tightened my grip on my purse. “No. I want to be alone for this, but I’ll call you when I’m done, and I won’t leave the dining area. I’ll make sure I’m always around people. I promise.”
The tension rolling off Logan didn’t lessen when he turned and stalked out the door. Brodie, Alexander, and Jake followed. Swallowing my anxiety about what was to come, I followed the hostess to a booth and slid into the seat.
“Specials are on the board up there.” The hostess waved toward a chalkboard on the wall. “Your waitress will be with you in a sec.”
She sauntered off, but instead of picking up my menu, I drummed my fingers on the table. According to my cell phone, it was still ten minutes to eight.
“Can I get you something to drink?” A waitress appeared with a pad in her hand. A white apron encircled her thick waist, and a little cap sat on her head, bobby pinned to her dyed-brown curls. All the place needed was a jukebox in the corner, and I would swear I’d just stepped back to 1950.
I shoved my cell phone back into my purse. “Um, a Coke is fine.”
After jotting it down, she walked briskly back to the kitchen. Faint music from a radio somewhere in the back flowed through the air, and sizzling sounds came from the grill. A moment later, she plopped the Coke down in front of me.
“There ya go. Did you want to order?”
“No. I’m actually waiting for someone.”
“Oh.” She glanced at the lone menu in front of me. “I thought it was just you. I’ll grab another menu.”
The waitress returned a moment later with another menu just as the bell over the front door jingled. My father strolled in. He wore the same clothes as earlier, jeans and a collared shirt. When he saw me, he grinned.
My lips lifted into a tight smile, the butterflies in my stomach flapping their wings even more.
“I’m glad you came,” he said when he slid into the seat across from me. The vinyl cushion squeaked until he got settled.
I fidgeted, and my knee moved up and down like a jackhammer. “Um, yeah. No problem.”
“You look nice.”
I looked down at my billowy top. It was one of the nicer items of clothing I owned. “Thanks. So do you.”
He chuckled. “Hardly. I just got off work and hurried over. I wish I’d had a chance to shower and put more effort into it.”
His easy smile made some of the nerves electrifying my stomach lessen. I picked up my menu. “Do you know what you want?”
“Oh, I’m not picky. A burger and fries will be fine. This place has great burgers.”
When the waitress returned, I shoved my menu toward her after ordering the same as my dad then clasped my hands awkwardly under the table.
My father leaned forward. “You know, you’ve turned into a beautiful young woman. You look just like your mother was when I met her.”
“She was beautiful, inside and out.”
“Is she traveling with you now, or has she retired?”
I hastily took a drink of my fizzy Coke. “No. She, uh, she died in an accident last year.”
His expression faltered. “Oh … I didn’t know that.”
As I set my drink down, bubbles from the Coke threatened to make me burp. “It was a car accident. She and Nan both died so now it’s just me, Cecile, and Mike.”
My father picked up a sugar packet from the condiment pile and played with it between his fingers, a troubled expression on his face. “I’m sorry to hear that. I wish I’d known.”
I took another sip. Half of the soda was already gone in my nervous gulps. “Yeah. It was a, you know, hard time for all of us, but I still have Cecile and Mike.”
His lips lifted, his smile filled with forced joy. “I remember Cecile, your mother’s right-hand man.”
“You mean woman?”
He laughed softly, effectively dispelling the somberness that had been forming.
The waitress returned with his drink and set the water down. “Food will be right up!” With that, she sailed off.
A moment of awkward silence passed between my father and me before I said, “Do you know that I don’t even know your name?”
He stopped playing with the sugar packet. “My name’s Dillon Parker. Didn’t your mother tell you?”
I shook my head before saying hesitantly, “She never talked about you, and every time I asked, she said you weren’t worth mentioning.”
His lips turned down in a frown. “I guess that’s to be expected.”
Fiddling with my straw, I bit my lip, a million questions floating through my mind, but two in particular stood out. Just ask him, Dar. You’ve always wanted to know, so now’s your chance to learn the truth.
I took a deep breath. “So … are you married? Do you have other kids?” I held my breath, too nervous to exhale.
He shook his head. “I never married, and I don’t have any other kids—only you. I live alone here, just outside town.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding. So I didn’t have any brothers or sisters. Disappointment welled up inside me, but I pushed it down. Don’t stop now. Keep going before you lose your nerve. I couldn’t meet his eyes. “And … why did you leave us?”
He cleared his throat just as our food arrived.
“Here ya go.” The waitress slid plates of steaming hot fries and greasy burgers on the table.
My dad tentatively picked up the ketchup before squeezing a large dollop by his fries. He frowned, an aggrieved expression filling his face before he finally replied, “Things weren’t working out.”
I waited for him to continue, but he didn’t.
“So you just left? You didn’t think about what that would do to me or Mom?”
He pushed a fry into his mouth, his jaw working fast. “I know you’re probably angry with me, and you have every right to be, but your mother wasn’t the easiest person to live with. I just couldn’t stay.”
My teeth clenched, even though his tone had been kind, not judgmental. “She was the best mother I could have ever had.”
He nodded, although his earlier laidback demeanor had faded to a more uncomfortable one. But before I could ask more about his history with my mom, he hooked a thumb toward the window. “Do you know what’s up with that guy staring at you through the window? He’s been watching you this entire time.”
I shifted uncomfortably, an image of my crazy stalker sitting ju
st outside the diner watching me at that very moment running through my mind. Heart pounding, I hesitantly glanced toward the window.
Logan stood just outside.
Though I exhaled in relief, I inwardly cursed him for giving me the fright of my life. Glaring at him, I turned my attention back to my dad, only then realizing Logan had never left at all. He’d probably waited for my dad to arrive, staying back so I wouldn’t see him, but then moved closer after my dad got settled. I gritted my teeth.
“Wasn’t he with you this afternoon?” my dad asked, his tone turning worried.
“Yeah, he’s actually my bodyguard.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Why do you have a bodyguard?”
I forced myself to bite into a fry, but I swallowed it too quickly. The hot grease burned my throat, so I grabbed my Coke. “Because someone is threatening my life.”
Shock filled my father’s face. “Threatening your life? What the heck do you mean, Daria?”
“I mean that someone wants me dead.” I eyed Logan. He still stood outside, making no attempts to hide himself. An image of the dead pigeon flashed through my mind.
“Jesus.” My dad set his burger down. Ketchup oozed out from the sides. He leaned back in his seat, his food forgotten. “Who wants you dead?”
“I have no idea.” I told him about the emails and their threats, but I left out the part about the dead pigeon on my doorstep.
“Have you gone to the police?”
I tensed. “No. No police.”
“But you should call the police if someone wants to hurt you. That’s serious, Dar. They need to catch him and lock him up.”
My insides stilled, my previous encounters with the police all too fresh in my mind. “No. I’m not calling the police. I won’t call them.”
“So instead of police, you hired a bodyguard?”
“You could say that.”
He leaned forward, crossing his arms on the table. Worried hazel eyes met mine. “Why would someone want to kill you?”
“Your guess is as good as mine, but there’s more than that. He also wants money.” I sighed and pushed my plate away. Just the smell made me nauseous. “He said if I pay him fifty thousand dollars he’ll let me live.”
My dad’s eyebrows shot up. “Then you should pay him. You don’t need someone like that harassing you.”
My jaw dropped. “Pay him? After he threatened to kill me?” I shoved my hands under the table, gripping them tightly together. “I’d never pay a prick like that. Besides, do you really think I have fifty thousand dollars lying around?”
An incredulous look filled his face. “How couldn’t you? You’re a famous healer, right?”
Exasperated, I shook my head. “I heal people because it’s what I was meant to do. I don’t get rich from it.”
“Do you really expect me to believe that? I saw the line today. People were clamoring to see you. If you’re not willing to go to the police, and you have a way to get rid of this guy, then you should. You need to stay safe, Daria. This sounds serious.”
I gritted my teeth so hard that my jaw hurt. Annoyance flared through me that he was attempting to play the dad card. Even though I’d agreed to have dinner with him, that didn’t mean I’d welcomed him back with open arms, and it certainly didn’t give him the right to tell me what to do.
“That’s not how it works. I only charge what people can afford. I don’t do this for the money.”
“But you could make that kind of money, couldn’t you?”
Our waitress sauntered back to our table with the bill. She eyed my barely touched plate. “Do you want a box for that?”
“No. I’ve lost my appetite.” I dug around in my purse for my wallet. A flush drifted up my neck. My own father thought I was rich, that I could easily pay my stalker off if I chose to. I snorted. Even he was naïve about how I lived.
My shoulders fell. What did you expect? The guy had abandoned me. He was no different from anyone walking by on the street. He didn’t have the slightest clue about my life.
With a thick voice, I said, “I have to go.”
My father caught my hand just as I shoved a ten-dollar bill on the table. My senses tingled. “You’re leaving?”
I pulled my hand away. “I’m sorry. This was a mistake.”
“Daria,” my dad pleaded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume, and I didn’t mean to tell you what to do. I can tell that I’ve upset you. Really, I’m sorry. Can we please see each other again? I don’t want things to end like this.”
As I studied his face, I couldn’t tell if he was being genuine or not, but as much as I hated to admit it, I wanted him to care. I wanted that so badly. The little girl in me still existed, though I’d tried to stomp her into oblivion.
A part of me always longed for a dad, a man to swing me up in his arms, read me bedtime stories, and take me to the park after he got home from work. That little girl still lived deep within me despite my mother’s refusal to talk about the man in front of me.
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
His eyes softened. “How about coffee in the morning? And I won’t say anything else about the past or this stalker of yours. Let’s just talk about the two of us. I still don’t know anything about you, and I want to get to know you.”
And I don’t know anything about you. I nibbled my lip.
He laced his fingers together. Dirt lined his fingernails, as if he worked with his hands or didn’t wash them frequently enough. With a start, I realized I didn’t even know what he did for a job. “Please, Daria. I’ve only just found you.”
Another moment passed before I finally replied, “Okay. I’ll meet you for coffee tomorrow morning, but then I have to hit the road again, and I don’t know—” I nibbled my lip again. “I don’t know what the future holds for us.”
But my father just grinned. “Great! I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me, and there’s a coffee joint up by the interstate. It’s the only one, so you won’t miss it. They make the best coffee around here.”
I eyed my bodyguard. Logan still waited outside, his gaze unwavering.
Returning my attention to my father, I replied, “All right, fine. That works.” Maybe the next day would go better.
“Excellent!”
A memory suddenly filled my mind, of being a little girl with my mom and my nan in a shopping mall. We’d just gone to the thrift store, hunting for clothes since I’d hit a growth spurt and had outgrown the stuff we’d bought a few months earlier. A girl around my age had been with her dad in the toy aisle. She’d had a shopping basket filled to the top with toys. Her father had been laughing, encouraging her to find more. Even though they were cheap toys, I still watched her. I never had an abundance of toys growing up. Even the dollar ones had been too expensive.
But that girl’s father had showered her with gifts. It was the first time I understood what envy was.
“Daria? Is six too early?”
I snapped my attention back to my dad, the memory fading. “Sure. Six is fine.”
Chapter 15
“What did he say?” Logan asked the second I stepped out of the diner.
Wind whipped down the street, blowing my hair. “You seriously have the guts to ask me that after you stayed when I specifically asked you to leave?”
He scowled. “It’s my job to protect you. There was no way I was leaving you here alone.”
I rolled my eyes and took off down the street. Logan fell into step beside me. Our feet tapped on the pavement as I gripped my purse tighter.
The dinner still played over in my mind like a spinning record that wouldn’t stop. My father and I had parted ways awkwardly at our table. I’d had the ridiculous urge to hold out my hand for a handshake, as if we’d just conducted a business meeting, but of course, I didn’t. I never touched if I could avoid it, but my father didn’t know that.
He’d pulled me into a hug, causing my senses to flare to life, but the hug was so brief, my healing light
stayed buried in my storage chest. However, his contact was enough for his scent to linger on my shirt. A trace of cigarette smoke had been in his clothes along with a hint of alcohol on his breath. The latter surprised me, as he’d seemed perfectly sober.
“Why are you frowning?”
I nearly tripped over a crack in the sidewalk. “I’m frowning?”
Logan’s stormy gaze hadn’t lessened. “Yeah, and you looked upset a few times while you were having dinner.”
“Well … wouldn’t you be if your parent abandoned you?”
He had the decency to look sheepish. “Did he say anything about why he left?”
“He said things weren’t working out, and that my mom wasn’t easy to live with, but that was about it. Our food arrived when that conversation started.” Then it shifted to him encouraging me to pay off my stalker. I leaped off the curb and onto the street at an intersection. A part of me wanted to run, anything to not think about how upsetting the dinner with my dad had been, but just when I picked up my pace, Logan pulled me across the street to the other side, away from where my tour bus waited.
I startled at the feel of him touching me. “Logan? What are you doing?”
A truck rounded the corner farther down the street. A heavy plume of diesel smoke filled the air when it passed.
A frown settled on Logan’s face, his eyebrows drawing tightly together. “You’re upset, and I don’t like that.” He said the last part quietly, almost too quietly for me to hear, before he headed up the sidewalk toward a fast food restaurant, me in tow.
“So, we’re going to a fast food restaurant?”
“Yeah. You barely touched your food back there. You need to eat.”
Even though a part of me wanted to lash out at him for his heavy-handedness, deep down, I knew it was only because I wanted to forget everything about my dad. Taking it out on Logan wouldn’t help.
The scent of grease assaulted me when we stepped inside the burger joint. I bit my lip and studied the menu, but all the words seemed to jumble together.
Logan scanned the menu, too, his broad shoulders straining against his T-shirt. “Anything look good?”
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