His words tore at me, so that I had to compose myself to answer him.
“Just this once more,” I said. And then I repeated my ridicu-lous promise, because I knew he needed me to. “I’ll always come back.”
His arms tightened around me as he drifted off, only to droop when he was finally asleep.
Not long after that, I stood by the bed and watched him with only the dim light from the street lamps to illuminate the room. He slept peacefully, even after all that had happened that day. I wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed beside him and sleep myself. But sleep would have to wait. Just a little while longer.
Chapter 21
I sat in the dark for almost an hour before my father got home, running the plan through my mind over and over until I could perfectly trace the path of it, account for every contingency, answer for every variation. I sat at the kitchen table, as though I were waiting for him to start eating dinner. Maybe I was. I had two glasses and a half-drunk bottle of whiskey set out in front of me—his dinner of choice—and when I heard the stumbling stomp of his shoes on the front steps, I poured myself a glass and watched the swirling liquid settle into a glassy smooth pond of amber.
My father flicked on the kitchen light and stopped when he saw me. He gave me a hard look through narrowed eyes. I wanted to lift the glass and take a sip, but I hadn’t been prepared for how my body would react to seeing him. I felt practically every muscle contract, my hands in fists, my jaw set. The faces of his victims played through my mind like a mantra, pausing on Sadie’s lifeless face every time, just long enough for me to grip the seat of the chair I sat in and keep from launching myself at him.
“Boys upstairs?” He didn’t slur as much as I thought he would after a night at the pub.
“No.” I forced myself to take a drink and was surprised at how sweet the liquid tasted, despite the burn of it.
“What are you playing at? Put that away.”
I met his eyes over the rim of the glass and took another deliberate sip. Some kind of expression flashed across his features, but I didn’t catch it before they settled into his familiar scowl.
He purposely slowed his words. “Where are your brothers?”
I grinned and stared into his eyes, unflinching. “I’m here to buy them from you.”
He took three strides and was only a step away from me when he slammed his fist down on the table. The empty glass clinked against the bottle, and with a slightly shaky hand I managed to slosh some whiskey into the tumbler for him.
“Drink?” I asked, and even in that one word, I could hear my control slipping. I didn’t want him to be this close to me.
He spit words at me through clenched teeth. “You will bring them home now!”
“Or?” I took another sip, but this one tasted bitter. “Will you call the police? Beat their location out of me?” I pushed his tumbler toward him and sat back in my chair, tried to calm the snarl in my voice. “Will you kill me? Like you did the others?”
Did his eyes go wide? Or was that just what I expected to see? I studied his face as his expression barely flickered from possible surprise to definite scorn.
“You know nothing.” He turned his back on me, and it was all I could do not to draw the knife I’d been sitting on and sink it into his back. I could picture me doing it, every step, even the feel of the blade sliding through his flesh, and the relief of knowing he was erased from the planet.
But that wouldn’t do. That wasn’t the plan. I had to stick to the plan. I cleared my throat and dug my fingernails into the wooden tabletop.
“I know everything. But more importantly, I know that you are done.”
“Done?” He laughed and turned slowly back to me. My right hand fell to grip the hilt of the knife. “Who’s gonna stop me? Some pathetic little girl playing tough?”
“So, you admit that you have been killing people.”
His eyes narrowed again, and he started looking around us. “You playing spy, little girl?” With a speed I didn’t know he had, my father’s sweaty face was mere inches from mine. I’d barely had time to move my arm up between us. “You recording this conversation?”