So. Long(182)
He frowns and looks back at the papers on his desk. “I don’t have time for your theatrics this morning.”
Flopping into the chair in front of his desk, I snort. “You have to fix this shit. Mo found that fucking camera you put in her bathroom and she thinks I did it.”
Dad leans back, crossing his hands over his stomach. “Well, that’s too bad, Son.”
Smug motherfucker.
I stand and slam a fist onto his desk, rattling everything. “No. You will make this better. And you’ll do it now. I pulled those cameras you had at the shelter. Plus, your being a perverted old man shouldn’t cost me the girl I love.”
The door pushes open and Mom stares in with wide eyes. “What’s this?”
Dad groans. Mom cocks an eyebrow. And my stomach takes a nosedive for the floor.
Well, if she’s been standing out there very long, she already knows anyway. Besides, come Wednesday, it’s all gonna blow up as soon as I tell Cindy.
I shoot a look at him and cross my arms. “Go ahead, Dad. Walk the walk. The truth shall set you free.”
Mom steps into the room. “Tell me.”
He comes around the desk, leading her to the seat I just vacated. “Charlotte, it’s not as bad as it might seem.”
I shake my head. “The hell it isn’t.”
Mom looks to me, and then to him. “What?”
Dad hangs on to one of her hands, throwing me a look.
I lift my chin. “Go ahead.”
He clears his throat. I hide my shaking hands behind my back. Please, God, don’t let this destroy my mother.
She yanks her hand from his.
Her grip on the chair’s arm whitens her knuckles. “What have you done, David?”
Dad grits his teeth and hardens his eyes when he glares at me, as though this is my fault.
Fine. I’ll tell her. “He put cameras all over the guest house and has been recording Mo ever since she moved in. Not only that, but he also installed them in the ministry’s women’s shelter, in the bathrooms and sleeping quarters. He’s a fucking pervert.”
Mom’s eyes grow large as her gaze darts from me to him and back, her hand going to her chest. “What? No.”
Dad massages his forehead with his fingertips. “It’s true. But I can explain. I was just watching over Mona Lisa. And the women at the shelter, they’re all sinners and need shepherding…”
Her expression crumples. “I can’t believe this.”
Mom covers her face as she runs from the room.
He drops into her abandoned chair. “Are you happy now? You’ve destroyed your mother.”
“I destroyed her? Oh, hell no. I didn’t do this. You did, you filthy bastard.”
The door stands wide open. Somewhere in the house another slams.
Slade tosses me a pack of crackers and a pillow as my phone rings for probably the thirtieth time today. “For Pete’s sake, shut your ringer off.”
Yesterday was worse. I flip the tiny switch to silence the phone. “Sorry. Look, I appreciate your letting me stay here until I find a place. You’re an angel.”
He raises his beer in salute. “Yeah. That’s me. Saint Slade. Just don’t forget to tell Rach how amazing I am.”
His eyes are still bruised. When we got back to his apartment the other evening, he had to straighten his nose. The crack was possibly the worst sound I’ve ever heard.
He props his feet up on the scarred up coffee table between his chair and the sofa. “I haven’t said much about it, but you do know that boy loves you, right?”
I cover my face. “Maybe. But it doesn’t change what he did. I still don’t get it. Is that something guys do these days? I mean, would you hide a camera somewhere like that?”
“Hell, no. But are you sure he did? He said he didn’t.”
I yank my hands away from my face. “And conspiracy theorists say there was never a man on the moon.”
“Has he lied to you before?”
I sit up straighter. Has he lied? Well—“He once acted like we’d had sex when we hadn’t. But I knew the truth. Other than that—I guess not.”
Slade cocks his head and squints. “So, why do you think he’s lying about this?”
Eye roll. “He said it was his freaking dad. You do know who their dad is, don’t you?”
He lets out a huff. “The illustrious David Jennings? Of course, I know. Televangelist extraordinaire. Why do you think I worry so much about asking Rachel out? A dad like that? She’s never going to look twice at me. I’m a mess.”
“Did you see her brother?”
If anyone’s got issues, it’s Danny.
I push the blanket into the floor and grab my phone from Slade’s coffee table. Two-twenty-six. Oh, well, sleep’s overrated anyway.