"Yeah, but I figured that out on my own pretty early on. And it was pretty obvious when his number wasn't programmed into your cell phone. I just wanted to make sure I was right and she confirmed it."
I bit my lip, embarrassed that I had lied about being in love with an imaginary man in order to discourage Simon from pursuing me. "I'm sorry about that. Things were just so complicated and I thought it would make everything easier if I lied about being interested in someone else."
Simon shrugged, looking back at the road. "I can't say it made me happy, but I understand. I can't imagine what you were going through." He reached down to grasp my hand and I squeezed back, grateful to have him next to me.
I directed him to my house when we pulled into my neighborhood and he parked the car on the street in front of it.
"Are you ready for t
his?" Simon asked, watching me carefully.
"As ready as I'll ever be."
My father's car was in the driveway, which wasn't surprising since he often worked from home. Most of his day was spent showing properties to prospective clients, only stopping into his workplace for meetings or paperwork.
I unlocked the front door and stepped inside, Simon following closely behind me.
"Hello?" I called out. "Dad?"
I heard rustling in the kitchen and I walked towards the sound. My father was at the kitchen table, reading a newspaper with a cup of coffee. He looked surprised to see me, but the surprise soon turned into irritation as he glanced behind me, obviously seeing Simon.
"What are you doing here?"
My father wasn't going to make this easy so I braced myself for whatever was going to happen. I ignored his question as Simon stepped next to me.
"Dad, this is Simon."
Simon stuck out his hand and my father shook it warily, studying him. "What's this all about? Did you skip school so that I could meet your latest boyfriend?"
"No, Dad."
"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Kile," Simon said politely, although his expression said otherwise. His lips were pressed together and he looked none too pleased. I sat down at the table and Simon dragged a chair close to me and sat down so that he was practically on top of me.
"Dad, I don't want to upset you, but I need to ask you about Mom."
My father slammed his newspaper shut, his eyes blazing. "What did I tell you about that? Don't you dare ask me any rude or disrespectful questions."
"I'm not trying to be rude or disrespectful. I'm trying to save lives! I know you know about the visions I've been having. The visions that the women in our family have. Do you know about the vardogers? They've done something to Aunt Brenda! They're coming after me and my friends! I need your help!" I had planned on being calm, but I felt my control slipping, anger and fear making my voice sharp.
"Shut up!" he hissed. "I don't want to hear any of this trash! You're crazy, just like my damn sister!"
"It's true." Simon looked pissed but he was trying to keep his voice calm. "I've seen them myself. Your daughter needs your help."
My father glared at Simon and then turned back to me, his voice dripping with scorn. "I see you've got him under your thumb. Are you spreading your legs for him? Is that why he's putting up with your nonsense?"
I gasped, pain lancing through me at my father's words. I was shocked by his vulgar insult, which exceeded even his worst cruelty from the past. Simon shot up so abruptly that his chair fell back to the floor. He lunged at my father, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him up so he was standing.
"Don't you ever talk to her like that!" he snarled, his face barely an inch away from my father's. "I don't care if you're her fucking father. I will destroy you."
My father was red-faced and sputtering, looking furious but scared at the same time. I jumped up, putting my hand on Simon's arm that was still holding my dad up.
"Simon, stop!" Simon looked at me, his eyes full of rage. I was a little unnerved by his extreme reaction. "Simon," I said more softly. "Please. This isn't going to accomplish anything."
Simon took a deep breath, seemingly trying to calm himself down. He let go of my father's shirt and stepped back. My father scrambled further away from him, brave now that he had put some distance between them.
"Just who do you think you are, you son of a bitch! How dare you put your hands on me?"
Simon crossed his arms, looking at him blandly. "My mother would take great offense to that statement. She can vouch for my legitimacy."