Dead Girls Never Talk

“You can’t ground her. She’s fucking eighteen. And she doesn’t even live here.”

He threw his hands up. “What the fuck am I doing? I’m the worst father and…the worst headmaster, too. I got the security system to prevent these things from happening, and here we are. One student has multiple wounds. Another is fucking traumatized. Bain is currently MIA, doing God knows what. Most of the authorities are corrupt in this town, and I would die a happy man if the FBI never contacted me again.”

Before we knew what was happening, Gemma rounded the side of the couch and threw her small frame around her father’s middle, wrapping her arms around him tightly. “I’m sorry.” Tate’s expression went from angry, to confused, to relieved. Silence filled the room, and eventually, Tate put his arms around his daughter.

“It’s okay. I just need you to stop finding yourself in these situations. I just found out about you and Tobias, and I can’t take the panic of losing you or someone else taking you. Again.” He looked at Journey. “And you, too, Journey.”

She peeked up at him, and although her face was clear of tears, I still felt the instant pain and remorse in her heart. I was certain that her mind was going in a million different directions, and the shock of shooting someone was probably replaying over and over again in her head. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

She and Gemma caught gazes, and Gemma was seconds from opening her mouth to say something when Shiner, Brantley, and Bain walked into the living room.

Bain took one look at Journey and said, “It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”