I was so pissed at him for daring to leave me and put himself in even more danger that I refused to tell him I loved him as he kissed me and plead with me to understand.
I regret that now with every breath in my body, because I know that if he dies, he’ll do so thinking I don’t care.
I know the past two days I’ve spent crying is likely due to hormones, so I’m trying to cut myself some slack, but I swear to God I cannot stay in this shithole another day without knowing at least something.
If I could just ascertain that he’s still alive, I would back here and wait another week before needing to see him again.
I need to know. I need to.
I can’t keep my promise and I feel a wave of relief course through me as I run to the bedroom, grab my things, and head for the old station wagon parked in the shed out back.
I hit the highway at around nine fifteen, if my watch is still right, and I make it to the street behind my dad’s house a good hour later, smiling at the irony of it all.
If those assholes just knew that I am hiding right under their noses, I bet they’d shit their pants. With a furtive glance, I open my door and creep through old Mrs. Tally’s back yard, making for the break in the fence that will lead to Dad’s house.
The chief and I aren’t exactly the Partridge family or anything, but I love the old coot enough not to have disowned him the moment I realized what he was into with Cleo and Lynn, those whores, but I am still miffed at him for continuing on with this shit when I know that he never wanted in on this in the first place.
My poor pops is a fool, and I thank God I inherited my mama’s good sense, but he’s not evil and I know it’s killing him that he’s involved with terrorists. That’s why he agreed to help Roman in the first place, and I love him for it even more.
If Roman can just prove what he has to, Pops will be free of this mess and I can finally have my man and my dad together, creating the family I want.
I shake off those thoughts and bend to retrieve the spare key beneath the little frog statue that Pops bought for me the year I turned thirteen and decided that all things frog related were cool as shit.
I still love the little suckers, and Roman laughs at every fog T-shirt I own, even the one that claims that frogs can do it doggie style.
I push the key into the lock and hope to God that Dad is home at this time of night and not at the station still.
I can’t stay too long, that would be risky, but I do need to talk to him.
The kitchen is a mess now that I’m not here to look after the slob, and I wrinkle my nose at the smell permeating the house.
Everything is filthy and out of order, and I fully expect to see his office looking like a hurricane hit it when I turn the corner, only to stop dead in my tracks.
There’s blood everywhere, and I recognize it as the source of the smell permeating the air. I stand still and can almost feel myself falling to my knees when the truth hits me. I just know that my pops is gone, and someone, some asshole who deserves death, took him away from me and his unborn grandkid.
My heart hurts so much when I finally manage a breath that I only realize I’m puking all over the place when I slump over and just barely avoid taking a header into my own vomit.
I…I can’t believe it’s all come to this. My dad, the only other man besides Roman to ever love me, is gone, and here I am, all alone once again. But this time I’m not really alone, am I?
I have my pop’s grandbaby growing in me, and I can’t afford to hang around here bawling like a ninny when it’s blatantly obvious that these people would kill me in a heartbeat if they discovered me.
With that fear in mind, I finally find the strength to pull myself up and stand on shaky legs as I look at the death and destruction all around me.
Whoever did this, whoever took the life of a man with more honor than sense…I hope they rot in hell one day for this.
When I can’t stand to look at the dried and crusted stains another minute without retching, I turn and start creeping back through the house, my only aim now to get back to the cabin and the safety it will provide for us while I think of some way to get in touch with Roman.
He deserves to know about his baby. He deserves to hear at least one I love you.
I’m almost to the end of the hall and a breath away from the kitchen door when I hear the thing creak open and the heavy footfalls that make the boards beneath my feet shake.
I freeze for a precious few seconds in fear before my survival instincts kick in and I dive for the hall closet with a silent curse. I’m inside and breathing harshly and so fast, and I almost faint in relief when I hear footsteps passing.
Then they come back, and I can feel someone standing outside the door as if they’re right next to me.