The Academy (The Academy Saga Book 1)

by CJ Daly

  was always doing this. Instead, he took these regurgitated words as signs of

  • 102 •

  his allegiance. This was just one of many things that helped cement Andrew’s status as favorite Connelly progeny.

  “Long night,” I croaked, leaning over to buss the tops of their heads.

  “Well, I hope you have a good, long story to go along with it,” he said,

  pointedly.

  “Kadee always tells the best stories,” Mikey chimed in, ever the president

  of my fan club.

  I rubbed my hand against the dark grain of Mikey’s bristle. “Don’t I

  always?”

  Heavy tromping down the hall shook the floor. We simultaneously fell

  silent as Daddy appeared in the doorway. I half expected to hear Fi-fi-fo-fum!

  My father was a big man, and whatever space wasn’t swallowed up by his

  frame was filled in with his anger.

  After a measured silence: “Bedroom, now! ” he ordered before turning

  around and tromping back from where he came from. Andrew and I exchanged

  looks. My father was more of the rant and rave type and usually enjoyed a

  good audience .

  “Yes, sir,” I croaked, realizing I must be in more trouble than I thought.

  Mikey patted my arm, and I smiled encouragingly before trudging after

  Daddy’s stiff back to his bedroom.

  Upon entering, I saw that his bed was still habitually and tightly made,

  but other than that, an almost complete makeover (or I guess I should say

  make- under) had occurred since I’d last been in here to clean. Our cheerful finger-painted milestones had been taken down, leaving dark rectangular

  reminders of their frames instead, and my mother’s graying bathrobe was no

  longer hanging from the back of the bathroom door. My eyes automatically

  searched the chest-of-drawers for their wedding photo. It was conspicuously

  missing along with the tarnished silver tray that held his wedding band, and

  the keepsake box that held mysterious treasures kept locked away. I realized

  all traces of her were wiped clean as the commemorative rifle Daddy now

  prominently displayed from its perch above the headboard.

  Blinking back tears, I stood facing him and his army-regulation crew cut

  while he stared me down, not missing the scratch running for my hairline. I

  fought the impulse to cover it with my hands.

  A few more seconds tocked by before he said, “You sure you told me

  ever’thing ‘bout what happened last night?”

  Gulp. “Yes, sir.”

  His eyes held mine in the kind of staring contest that Ashley-Leigh and

  • 103 •

  I used to indulge in when we were kids. I stared back with what I hoped was my most innocent expression.

  “This mornin’ I drove over to the Montgomery’s to tow yer car back for

  ya, while you was home snug-as-a-bug-in-a-rug. Funny thing . . .”—he let that

  hang in the air while my heart plummeted—“it started just fine.”

  I found swallowing hard while still trying to appear innocent was counter-

  productive. Then there was the heat factor that gave me away—sweat began

  blistering my upper lip. I started to stammer out a quick explanation when a

  heavy hand clamped onto my shoulder. This had the dual purpose of shutting

  me up and sinking me onto the bed.

  Now that Daddy had my attention, he leaned over, finger to face. “I don’t

  know, or care, what kind of shenanigans went on last night with Little-Miss-

  About-Town. However, you are my daughter, and therefore, a reflection of

  me. I will not have you out gallivantin’ around town with that floozy till all hours of the night. If I were her Daddy, I’d’ve bent’er over my knee a long time

  ago. ‘Spare The Rod And Spoil The Child,’ is the motto that family needs

  to remember from the Good Book. They lost control of that one a long time

  ago. But I am not about to lose control of my kid!”

  I knew just what to do in these situations—cast my eyes down submissively.

  “Now I know what it’s like to be young. I was young once, too. You can

  get yerself into a lotta trouble runnin’ around late at night . . . ‘specially a

  girl like you. You gotta be careful not to get caught up in harmless fun.” He

  air-quoted now. “‘ Harmless fun’ most often leads to harmful consequences. I outta know.” He indicated the leg he injured in a motorcycle accident that

  effectively ended his military career.

  “Yes, sir,” I said, almost seeing his point after last night’s fiasco.

  “Discipline the military gave me is the thing that changed my life, and

  discipline is what you kids need, not more freedom. And that’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about . . .”

  My stomach lurched. When I braved his eyes again, he gave me the kind

  of look intended to nail me to the wall.

  “I can see now that I can’t trust you to be a proper mother-figure, nor

  moral guide for those two boys in there.”

  I gasped like he’d slapped my face.

  “. . . Your lies and lack of good judgment last night made me realize that

  yer mama over-estimated yer ability to raise them boys. Maybe it ain’t fair

  to rely on you; yer still immature—like havin’ a kid raise a kid. So I realized

  this mornin’ at church, while you was home sleepin’ in, that I’m on the right

  track with this here military academy.”

  • 104 •

  I was still fighting the urge to scream when he said, “I wanted to let you know that I’ve reconsidered my position on that school.”

  I stood up, horrified. “Daddy, no!”

  “Yer brother has a real opp’rtunity to make somethin’ of his life with

  this Elite Academy.” Daddy actually cracked a prideful smile, which caused a strong urge in me to smash a pie . . . right in his face.

  “B-but, Daddy, you can’t do that!” He was using last night’s one-time

  transgression as leverage for his plot to enroll Drewy in that military academy.

  It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair. And I had to stop it! “You said you weren’t about to send Andrew off to be raised by any of those fancy boardin’ schools!”

  I reminded him.

  “It ain’t just some fancy boardin’ school—it’s ‘The World’s Most Elite

  Military Academy’,” Daddy corrected me.

  “But you promised Mama!” My voice wobbled. “Please, Daddy! You just

  can’t send him away—he’s only eight-years-old!”

  His eyes moved to a spot above my shoulder. “We’ll cross that bridge

  when we get to it,” he said, placating me now that I was on the verge of tears.

  (Tears were my father’s kryptonite.) “Right now they just wanna assess him,

  see if he’s a good fit for ‘em. From my understandin’, they’re only lookin’ for

  a partic’lar type of kid.”

  Of course they’re going to accept him, I wanted to spit—Harvard, Yale,

  and Princeton all would.

  “They’re not lettin’ in just any ol’ rift-raft. And I don’t blame ‘em one bit.

  Kids today . . .” Daddy continued droning on about what was wrong with kids

  today, but I wasn’t listening anymore. I was thinking back to what I overheard

  Pete tell Ranger last night. Something about a mission being so easy, it would

  be like taking candy from a baby.

  What was the mission exactly? Stealing a young boy from his family? Was

  Andrew the candy, and me the
baby?

  Fear and rage went coursing through my body, forming a potentially

  hazardous adrenaline bomb. While Daddy went on and on about “the

  amazing opp’rtunity this was for Andrew,” I felt this liquid outrage begin to

  bubble over. I had to cork it before I exploded all over him.

  “If he’s accepted, they’ll offer him a full scholarship, which includes free

  room and board. Now you tell me how I can just let that ship sail on by with

  a good conscious?” Daddy reasoned.

  A glare was my answer.

  “I’m gonna do right by my boy, whether or not you approve, big sister.”

  It sounded like he was trying to convince himself. He knew very well

  • 105 •

  the promises he’d made to Mama regarding schools that were interested in us. And diminishing my role in Andrew’s life to mere “big sister” was really

  a low blow.

  My urge to throw pie in his face had grown to wanting to grind it in

  for good measure. Stupid, stupid, stupid, my eyes transmitted this message, hoping it would sink into his skull telepathically. But I had a feeling his skull

  was too thick to penetrate.

  “Now you stop lookin’ at me like that, Katherine.”

  “Like what?” I challenged, my temper getting the best of me. “Like the

  man we’re all supposed to look up to is too weak-willed to keep his word?”

  I flinched back as violence flashed from Daddy’s eyes. “Weak-wil ed!” he

  thundered. “You referrin’ to the same weak-willed man who allowed you to

  go back to public school and get a job?”

  I looked down, suddenly absorbed by a water stain in the carpet. He was

  right—I could not dispute the fact that he’d also made those promises to

  Mama. And I was glad he’d broken them at the time, wanting a more normal

  life for us. Now I wasn’t so sure. If we’d never gone back to public school, then

  Andrew’s teachers would never have sent query letters to all those schools, and

  we wouldn’t be sitting here having this argument right now.

  I just realized, again, that Mama might not have died a crazy, delusional

  woman after all. Maybe she’d known exactly what she was doing. Another

  shiver ran down my spine when I thought of all the ways we’d already gone

  against her wishes. We were suddenly off on a course she’d intentionally

  blocked us from. Daddy had already knocked down the barricade, and we

  were barreling down it now. Was there a steep cliff at the end that we’d

  run right over, only to plunge to our death? And Daddy was the freight

  train driving us. Once he’d set his mind to something, he wouldn’t veer off

  course, no matter what. He suffered from what Mama always referred to as

  a “one-track-mind.”

  Everything was still cloaked in a hazy gray fog, but one thing was clear:

  my mission was to stop that academy from sinking its claws into Andrew.

  There was no way I could argue with Daddy once his mind was made up.

  I couldn’t out yell him, or physically make him do anything he didn’t want

  to do. So I had no choice but to outsmart him.

  “Have you informed Andrew about your big plans for his future?”

  “Not yet,” he said defensively. “I hadn’t made up my mind until after

  meetin’ with their representatives.”

  “Representatives?” I sprang back to my feet like I’d just sat on a live wire.

  “What representatives?”

  • 106 •

  The two representatives my father began describing exactly matched the two that sprang to mind. “That Elite Academy sent over, not one, but

  two ambassadors, to discuss their program. And they were both . . . uh, very handsome and well-spoken, and had a lotta confidence about ‘em. I could

  exactly picture Andrew growin’ up to be just like that,” he positively crowed

  with enthusiasm.

  I swallowed my snarky retort to focus on the facts. “When did you meet

  with them?”

  Daddy’s complexion turned ruddier. “Yest’rday afternoon. Over at

  Cannon Air Force Base. That’s why I was a little late gettin’ home,” he

  admitted. “I gotta tell ya, Katie. I never seen nothin’ like it in all my military

  years—those two cadets were completely given the royal treatment. You’d a

  thought they were a couple of four-star generals the way they rolled out the

  red carpet for ‘em!”

  Daddy trumpeted some more about them and their Elite Academy. How

  they convinced him it was the best place for a gifted boy like Andrew. About

  the strict standards and discipline, and how the world would be his oyster after

  graduating . . . blah, blah, blah. My thoughts whirled around in my head like

  a tornado, so I could only pick up a phrase here and there intermingled with

  my thoughts on Ranger’s bizarre hatefulness, Pete’s possible role in all of this,

  and Mama’s fear about “special” schools.

  “Yep, they came all the way out here from California to meet with me.

  The graduatin’ cadets have the recruitin’ duties for new members as part of

  their graduation requirement . . . kind of a neat tradition if you ask me, passin’

  on the torch that way. Can you believe that Andrew is bein’ considered? And

  at such a young age? It’s very excitin’ news. You’ll see. I’d never forgive myself

  if I didn’t take advantage of this golden opp’rtunity for my son.”

  I must’ve looked green around the gills, because Daddy stopped speaking

  like he was in an infomercial for that stupid school. “You feelin’ alright,

  Katie?”

  No. I felt awful. My ears were ringing and my head was spinning. Too

  much was happening too fast, and way too much was at stake. I started

  hyperventilating.

  “Katie-girl?” His voice seemed to be coming from far away.

  I couldn’t speak yet and was sure that if I opened my mouth, I would end

  up either hurling the F-bomb or last night’s birthday cake all over Daddy. I’d

  only had a gut reaction this visceral once before—when Mama told us she

  was sick.

  If Andrew was accepted—which he one hundred percent would

  • 107 •

  be—(cause if they weren’t looking for Drews, I don’t know who they would be looking for) then my brother would be shipped off to that academy forever.

  I shuddered at the thought of what that would do to our little family. It wasn’t

  fair. We had so little. All we really had was each other. And now Daddy had

  decided, overnight, to change that.

  Hot tears began trickling down my cheeks, the first drops in front of

  Daddy since Mama’s funeral. I knew he wouldn’t react right, unadept as he

  was with dealing with female emotions. Despite that, I was desperate for him

  to comfort me.

  “Now Katie, you stop that nonsense!” He patted my arm in a gesture

  I took to be more warning than sympathy. “You gotta pull yerself together

  before we tell the boys. You gettin’ hysterical’s only gonna make it harder

  on ‘em.”

  Sometimes I hate being right.

  A timid knock on the door wrenched me from my misery. “Kadee?”

  Mikey said hesitantly, “Are you okay?”

  A warm, fuzzy feeling enveloped me like a hug; he’d come to check on

  me, knowing full well he was risking Daddy’s wrath. I suddenly realized it

  was
my four-year-old brother and not my forty-four-year-old father who always comforted me.

  “Go away, Shadow, this does not concern you!” Daddy ordered.

  “But I am co’cerned cause you’re makin’ Kadee cry.”

  I knew I had to get him out of here fast, because Daddy was currently

  teetering along the thin line between boiling over into a rage . . . or just plain

  boiling over. Mikey’s meddling would definitely tip him onto the rage side.

  “Actually, Mikey, we’re comin’ out in a minute to have a family meetin’,”

  I said, trying to stuff a sock in it. A pause. “So go on back and drag Drewy in

  from wherever he’s hidin’ and wait for us in the livin’ room.”

  “Okay, Kadee.” He hesitated before running off to do my bidding.

  I stifled my sobs until they were as intermittent as hiccups, calmed

  somewhat by the idea that if anyone could change Daddy’s mind, it would

  be his first-born son. When it seemed I’d calmed down to the point I was no

  longer a “hysterical female,” Daddy tried to reason with me again.

  “Now, Katie, you know that Andrew’s been bored outta his gourd in

  school for a long time now.”

  “If that’s what that mentor’s for, I can do it myself!”

  Daddy continued talking as if I hadn’t spoken: “This here Elite Academy

  is the best place for a boy like him to be challenged academically and to learn

  the discipline it takes to make somethin’ of himself in this world.”

  • 108 •

  I snorted. “I don’t really know how much more discipline an eight-year-old boy needs.”

  “That’s right, young lady. You do not.” He pointed between my eyes like

  I’d just made a valid point for him. “Accordin’ to them two cadets, ninety

  percent of our brain power goes unused. If caught early enough, they can

  remedy that sit’eation in Andrew ‘fore his brain starts, uh . . . atrophyin’ on ‘im like everybody else. And account of him bein’ so smart and all, well . . . that

  would just be a cryin’ shame,” he finished, snapping his suspenders proudly

  after his little spiel.

  I ignored the useless data he’d just babbled. “Have you even taken into

  account how Andrew feels about this? After all, it’s his life we’re talkin’ about here.”“’O’ course I have!” Daddy became irate immediately. “I tried tellin’ him

  just last night with you gone . . .”

  Convenient timing.