Ask Me If I Care (SWAT Generation 2.0 4)

Prologue

I have seen things. Awful things. Empty coffee cup things.

-Coffee Cup

Ares

Six months ago

“Are you sure you want to go out looking like that?”

My dad’s words had me stopping short.

I looked down at myself, then up at him.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, worried now.

“There’s nothing wrong.” My mother slapped my father across the chest. “Downy, be nice to her. You know how sensitive she is.”

My father rubbed at his chest as if my mother’s slap had actually harmed him instead of just startled him.

“This is a police function,” my father started. “There’s going to be quite a few people there. People that I work with on a daily basis. I don’t want them all looking at my daughter half clothed.”

I rolled my eyes then.

“Dad, I’m dressed. I’m going with you. Oh, and you’re welcome.” I poked him in the chest with one manicured finger. “I even got my nails done for you!”

My dad grimaced and looked at his watch.

“There’s still time for you to get dressed, Memphis,” Dad said to my mom.

My mother, who was on the couch in sweatpants, shook her head.

“If I go, I might very well throw up all over everyone.” She paused. “Unless that’s what you’re trying to accomplish?”

My father grimaced.

This morning, my mother had called me to ask me if I’d be willing to go to a police banquet with my father. One that she usually attended with him every year.

Only, she couldn’t attend thanks to what she assumed was the flu taking her down.

Honestly, I should’ve just said no.

I’d had a long ass day at work as a guidance counselor at Kilgore High School. I’d had to break up a fight that had left me sore as hell and stiff in places people shouldn’t be stiff. Oh, and to put the cherry on top, my ex-boyfriend had called and asked if we could meet up for dinner.

Thankfully, my mother had already called at that point and asked if I’d be willing to go with my dad, otherwise I would’ve had to tell Ryan yes. Because sadly, I could never lie well when it came to Ryan McMillan. The pitcher for the Devil Rays, and the man that broke my heart the moment he got drafted.

I honestly wasn’t sure why I said yes every time he came into town.

I really should be saying no.

I should be strong and ignore the call. Block him. Anything but tell him yes, I was free.

But Ryan was my high school sweetheart. The first man I loved. The man that took my virginity. The man that I still found quite attractive even after all of his escapades.

“Are you even listening to me?”

I looked up to see my father staring down at me.

“No.” I didn’t see the point in lying. “What?”

Sadly, I always told the truth.

Even when it hurt.

I was blunt and to the point, and honestly it was a good trait to have even if some people didn’t seem to think so.

“I asked if you were ready to go,” Dad repeated.

I nodded my head and held up one finger. “Let me go pee real quick. That way mom can make sure I still look good when I’m done.”

Dad frowned and made a ‘hurry up’ gesture with his finger, causing me to grin and take off at a sprint down the hallway.

Once done, I looked at myself in the mirror, checking out my makeup.

I’d gotten it done professionally. My hairdresser had a woman at her salon that did makeup, and since she was free, I all but begged her to do it.

Usually, I was one of those people that tried to go makeup free.

I honestly couldn’t stand the way the gunk felt on my face.

The most adventurous that I got was putting eye shadow and mascara on when I went to work. And, upon occasion, I covered a pimple with foundation.

So looking at myself with smoky eyes and painted lips made me feel like I was looking at a stranger in the mirror.

My light blue eyes seemed to almost pop thanks to the black eyeliner she’d used to rim my eyes. My lips looked plumper as well, reminding me of the ten minutes that it’d taken the makeup chick to make them perfect.

“Hurry up already!”

I rolled my eyes and swung my red hair back over my shoulder, checking out my dress one more time.

It was a black strapless number that covered me from armpit to toes, dancing into a fluff of tulle and lace at my feet.

My feet were encased in high heels so high that I teetered on them even when I was standing perfectly still.

“Let’s go!”

I rolled my eyes and opened the door, heading to my impatient dad who looked as if he’d rather sit down on the couch next to my mom rather than go to dinner with me.

“You could at least act like you’re excited to take me somewhere fancy,” I teased my father.