Dearest?”
His
gray-blue eyes narrow. If looks could kill I’d be a pile of ash to his laser
beams. I roll my eyes back at him and take Geoff’s glass of white wine. I
wrinkle my nose as I take a sip. “I question your sexuality every time I see
you order a drink. Chardonnay? Really? What are you a SoCal soccer mom?”
He
chuckles and takes it back. “I get heartburn from red wine and your dad is too
demanding on my senses for me to drink anything heavier.” He takes a drink and
stares at me. The man has a skill no other human being does. He reads me. He
reads me so well that when his eyes narrow the way they are now, I get nervous.
He leans in. “The incident last week was real, wasn’t it?”
I
shake my head. “It was nothing.”
He
takes my hand, running his thumb down my palm. “Doesn’t feel like nothing.”
He’s the first person to take it seriously. Besides the lady cop, but I think
by the time I left her office, she was back to believing it was nothing. He
leans in closer again. “Tell me what happened.”
I
watch my father get up from the table. Whatever the phone call is about, it’s
bad. His face is red. Great. Whoever he’s on the phone with is warming him up
for me. I owe them a kick in the junk. I give Geoff a sideways look and ask
softly, “Didn’t daddy get a copy of the police report?”
His
eyes dart to my father as his head twitches that in fact my father hadn’t
requested a copy. I can’t even lie a little and say it doesn’t sting. It really
does.
My
gaze lowers to the table as my hand reaches across it, taking the chardonnay. I
gulp back the whole glass and place it back in front of him. “I woke up to
someone in my room. He was using my foot for something unholy and depraved. He
finished and left through the window.”
Geoff’s
hand grips tighter on the chair. “You don’t know him?”
I
shake my head. “I don’t think so. I don’t know. Honestly, it was dark in my
room and I was about two sleeping pills into my dream when it started.” I scoff
at myself. “I was so out of it I didn’t even notice the water was burning my
skin in the shower.” I lift my eyes to his, finally able to meet his stare. If
I had a mother her eyes would look like these. They would be filled with
concern and love the way his are. His heart is broken for me. It makes the
assault on me so much worse. Because he loves me like a little sister, I feel
like I didn’t deserve the thing that happened to me. I blink away a tear,
wiping and shaking my head. “I got second-degree burns, and the worst of it is,
I burned myself like an idiot.”
He
wipes my cheek, letting his hand linger, cupping my face. “I asked Henry to
find us someone to track down the illicit criminal. Henry felt it was all very
real, but he couldn’t be sure, because of the habits you’ve developed here.”
I
sniffle and laugh, squinting and trying to imagine how I am going to explain
the soccer player in the coma and the orgy.
Dad
finishes and sits. “Lana, my dear. How are you?” The question is not one I am
meant to answer. He knows how I am. He knows what he cares about. He looks at
his phone and mutters, “I understand you have been in some trouble with Charles
Hensley’s daughter, Nance, again.”
I
don’t say anything. I have no defense. I went to play sex games with a friend
isn’t a defense at all, and it won’t make this better.
He
drums his long, slim fingers along the wooden armrests. His gray hair is darker
than the last time I saw him. Jesus, is he getting another divorce and starting
his whole manscaping and dying his hair again? Gross.
Geoff
rests a hand on my arm. “We understand that there are some serious implications
lingering in the air about who brought the drugs to the party.”
My
jaw drops. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t bring anything.”
My
dad’s cold blue eyes lift. “Did you mix the drinks for the minors?”
I
don’t say anything.
He
nods. “I have done everything I could
His
gray-blue eyes narrow. If looks could kill I’d be a pile of ash to his laser
beams. I roll my eyes back at him and take Geoff’s glass of white wine. I
wrinkle my nose as I take a sip. “I question your sexuality every time I see
you order a drink. Chardonnay? Really? What are you a SoCal soccer mom?”
He
chuckles and takes it back. “I get heartburn from red wine and your dad is too
demanding on my senses for me to drink anything heavier.” He takes a drink and
stares at me. The man has a skill no other human being does. He reads me. He
reads me so well that when his eyes narrow the way they are now, I get nervous.
He leans in. “The incident last week was real, wasn’t it?”
I
shake my head. “It was nothing.”
He
takes my hand, running his thumb down my palm. “Doesn’t feel like nothing.”
He’s the first person to take it seriously. Besides the lady cop, but I think
by the time I left her office, she was back to believing it was nothing. He
leans in closer again. “Tell me what happened.”
I
watch my father get up from the table. Whatever the phone call is about, it’s
bad. His face is red. Great. Whoever he’s on the phone with is warming him up
for me. I owe them a kick in the junk. I give Geoff a sideways look and ask
softly, “Didn’t daddy get a copy of the police report?”
His
eyes dart to my father as his head twitches that in fact my father hadn’t
requested a copy. I can’t even lie a little and say it doesn’t sting. It really
does.
My
gaze lowers to the table as my hand reaches across it, taking the chardonnay. I
gulp back the whole glass and place it back in front of him. “I woke up to
someone in my room. He was using my foot for something unholy and depraved. He
finished and left through the window.”
Geoff’s
hand grips tighter on the chair. “You don’t know him?”
I
shake my head. “I don’t think so. I don’t know. Honestly, it was dark in my
room and I was about two sleeping pills into my dream when it started.” I scoff
at myself. “I was so out of it I didn’t even notice the water was burning my
skin in the shower.” I lift my eyes to his, finally able to meet his stare. If
I had a mother her eyes would look like these. They would be filled with
concern and love the way his are. His heart is broken for me. It makes the
assault on me so much worse. Because he loves me like a little sister, I feel
like I didn’t deserve the thing that happened to me. I blink away a tear,
wiping and shaking my head. “I got second-degree burns, and the worst of it is,
I burned myself like an idiot.”
He
wipes my cheek, letting his hand linger, cupping my face. “I asked Henry to
find us someone to track down the illicit criminal. Henry felt it was all very
real, but he couldn’t be sure, because of the habits you’ve developed here.”
I
sniffle and laugh, squinting and trying to imagine how I am going to explain
the soccer player in the coma and the orgy.
Dad
finishes and sits. “Lana, my dear. How are you?” The question is not one I am
meant to answer. He knows how I am. He knows what he cares about. He looks at
his phone and mutters, “I understand you have been in some trouble with Charles
Hensley’s daughter, Nance, again.”
I
don’t say anything. I have no defense. I went to play sex games with a friend
isn’t a defense at all, and it won’t make this better.
He
drums his long, slim fingers along the wooden armrests. His gray hair is darker
than the last time I saw him. Jesus, is he getting another divorce and starting
his whole manscaping and dying his hair again? Gross.
Geoff
rests a hand on my arm. “We understand that there are some serious implications
lingering in the air about who brought the drugs to the party.”
My
jaw drops. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t bring anything.”
My
dad’s cold blue eyes lift. “Did you mix the drinks for the minors?”
I
don’t say anything.
He
nods. “I have done everything I could
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