Page 85 of Dust Storm

CHRISTIAN

Cassandra didn’t look up from her phone during the drive to the school. Every so often, I’d glance over and find her looking at the school website, deep-diving into the administration, and scouring the dress code that was digitized thanks to the district.

“I’m probably just gonna have to sign her out for the day,” I said, instead of telling Cassandra that having it out with an administrator in front of my thirteen-year-old was a bad idea.

Cassandra laughed. “Nice try. I’m going in with you.”

I pulled into a visitor’s space and threw the truck into park. “Cass?—”

“Listen to me.” Blonde hair swished across her back as she turned in the seat to face me. “You want to be a good dad? Stand up for your kid instead of being amicable. Don’t teach her to play dead just because you don’t want to be confrontational.”

I ran my tongue over my teeth to keep from admitting how much that stung.

She yanked on the door handle and pushed it open, but I was faster. I rounded the front of the truck and caught the edge of the door in my palm. “You know better than to open your own door.”

Her lips turned up in a victorious smile. “I got your ass out of the seat, didn’t I?”

I slammed the door shut as soon as her high heels hit the asphalt. “You’d better use your powers for good in there, Parker.”

“Just because I don’t sugarcoat things doesn’t mean I’m a heartless bitch. I’m only a bitch for good causes,” she said, her words on tempo with the tip tap of her shoes. “I’m a vigilante bitch.”

I paused in front of the glass double doors. “Just… Give me a minute to see what’s going on before you rip this old woman to shreds.”

Her lips curled up in a wicked smirk. “I am feeling a little peckish. A little aged meat might tide me over until dinner.”

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered as I pulled my cowboy hat off and handed it to Cassandra. “Mind holding that for a second?”

I quickly yanked my hair out of the elastic and tied it back in a neater bun.

Her painted fingertips were hanging onto the hat by the brim.

“Like this,” I said as I took it back by the crown. “Don’t wanna bend the brim. Always hold it by the top.”

She was unamused. “It’s a hat.”

“Yes, it is. There’s etiquette around them. Respect it.”

Cassandra looked taken aback.

I sighed and scrubbed my hand down my beard. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to yell at you.”

She laughed. “If you think that’s yelling, then I hope you never have to see me order from a deli. I’ll scare the shit out of you.” Her eyes darkened, but amusement glinted in them like stars in a twilight sky. “But for the record—I wouldn’t be opposed to you bossing me around, cowboy.”

I yanked open the door to the school office. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Yes. That should be obvious. Now shut up and let me do the talking.”

I put my hand on the small of her back and led her through the next set of doors. “You have to stop telling people to shut up.”

Bree was sitting in a chair along the interior wall of the school office. Tears streaked her cheeks as her feet bounced nervously on the carpeted floor.

Fuck.

She looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes and whispered, “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Mr. Griffith,” Tanya, the receptionist, said as I scrawled my name and Cassandra’s across the visitor’s clipboard. “Principal Beeker will be with you shortly. Please have a seat.”

Cassandra positioned herself as a sentry beside Bree. “Sit up straight and stop fidgeting,” she clipped under her breath. “You look guilty.”

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