My phone vibrates, and I snatch it up. It’s from Cook, who tells me to open the door.
I breathe out in relief, my shoulders relaxing. Thank goodness. I feared I might actually have to shoot someone there for a second. And I still don’t know if I have the balls to do it.
Was that what I found so attractive about Adrian? He’s never afraid to do the hard things…especially when it comes to keeping me safe.
I unlock the door, working my way from the chain down to the deadbolt, and open it. But Cook’s not standing on the other side. It’s my father.
His hair is whiter and shorter, slicked back away from his face. It also looks like he’s lost some weight. Overall, he just seems old. Older than I remember when we went to the season-opening ball all those months ago.
“What are you doing here?” I stammer, still shocked at his presence.
He shoves me aside to enter my room, scowling at the surroundings. “Hopefully not catching hepatitis,” he sneers, then turns to me. “Shut the door, or anyone might see us talking and come after you, dear.”
The nickname isn’t a sweet epithet. It’s his way of mocking me. Of calling attention to the fact that biologically I’m his daughter, but I’m all but useless to him. I close the door if only to give me a moment to think. The last time we were in the same room together, he was about to leave for a business trip to New York. He’s left me with Sal all that time, knowing what kind of man he is and what he might do without my father’s supervision.
I lock the door and face him, keeping my back against the cold metal of the exit just in case I need to make a break for it. “I’ll ask you again, what are you doing here?”
He takes a quick walk around my room, which is all anyone needs since it’s not very big. Then he sits on the bed, testing the squeaky springs. “Charming? How can you live in this hovel?”
“It’s none of your concern. Why are you here? How did you find me?”
Once upon a time, I might have been too chickenshit to talk to him this way. To speak to him like he’s in the wrong when he so often is. Even as he belittles me, he looks so old, so fragile. While studying him, I realize I no longer care what he thinks of me. I couldn’t care less in fact. It’s an almost dizzying realization.
I’ve hated him for years because of what I endured from both his hand and then Sal’s. How could he let that happen to his own child? It’s so clear to me now he let it happen because he doesn’t see me as his child at all. In his eyes, not one single part of me is his blood. That’s how he rationalizes my treatment. And he never bothered with Rose because she really wasn’t his blood.
I stare him down, letting him see my loathing, my hate of him, in my eyes. The obedient daughter who only wanted his approval is gone. She died that night, tied to her own bed. This woman is Adrian’s wife. This woman is a Doubeck, and Doubecks cower to no one. “You can leave now, Father. I’ll spare you the indignity of being thrown out if you leave soon.”
“So, you’re pregnant with that bastard’s child, aren't you? Did you run because you feared he’ll kill you like he did his own Pop? I wouldn’t put it past him. He’ll stand for nothing challenging his position of power, especially a woman.”
I know I shouldn’t rise to his bait, but I can’t help it. “You don’t know anything about him or our relationship. So don’t sit there thinking you know me and why I decided to leave him.”
He growls low and angry in his old senile way of his. “Girl, don’t speak to me that way, or I’ll make you regret it.”
I narrow my eyes and stare him down. “You had to sit on the bed since you can’t stand for very long without shaking…I seriously doubt you have the strength to inflict much damage on me. Save your threats for someone who might actually believe you. I’ll speak to you however I want since you came here to my motel room to mock me. Now leave before I force you out of here.”
He settles back on the bed like I’ve issued him a challenge. “I’ll cut that baby from your womb before I see him have an heir. You don’t understand what you’re bringing into this world. His family line needs to die with him.”
I lean in, unable to help it, not when he’s being such an asshole. “Just like yours will, old man. I took his name, and so will his son. You have nothing and no one left to carry on your legacy. I hope you die alone and afraid. It’ll be what you deserve.”