Page 27 of Felonies are Forever

She gives me a quizzical look, but I need to work this out. There’s something else, something I can’t quite place.

“Yes. He can’t cope on his own. Why are you asking that?”

“It just seems odd. They have plenty of staff here, but he expects you to stay and take care of him?”

“That’s what he said. I’m sorry, I know you want me to go back with you. I’m not sure where that leaves us…”

“Baby, that’s not it. You and I are together. Where doesn’t matter. I just want you to take a careful look at all this for a moment. Does anything about it seem odd to you?”

“I guess it’s a little strange. My father was always distant. Most of my life he was away somewhere on business, and even when he was home, he was never that interested in me. Or even mom, honestly. But a few years can change a lot, right?”

“So, anything unusual gone on since you arrived? Or just you taking care of your dad…”

“Not really. When I got home, the funeral was over. Mom actually passed away a month before Dad sent the courier. She had a stroke. Guess he was too bereft to send news until then.At least it shows that he did care about her, after all. When I got here, we talked, he sent me to the doctor—”

“Wait, what?”

“It’s not some big deal, Thorne, he just wanted me to go to the doctor. He was worried about how I’d been taking care of myself, I guess. They did a bunch of tests. Took blood. Said I looked good though. I’ve been to a couple follow-up appointments since, too. Dad was just worried about me.”

Bull shit. My mind is screaming those words and the hairs on the back of my neck are standing on end. Who waits a month before telling their daughter her mother has died? Then, when she finally gets home, sends her straight to the doctor? For what? A checkup? Bull. Fucking.hit.

“Okay, baby, I get it. I’m sorry. What’s wrong with your dad, anyway? I don’t think I ever asked.”

“I’m not sure about all of it. I know he has liver disease. But he also now has dialysis three times a week. He’s just sick.” She fidgets with a loose thread on her shirt. “He also calls me Cecelia and I hate it. He refuses to call me CeeCee. Cecelia was his mother’s name and she was horrrrrrrrible. So mean, hateful.” I’m not sure why she adds the editorial about her name, but I can tell that I’ve pushed too far. She’s getting defensive, and that’s my cue to back off. I won’t hurt her, but I have this horrible feeling that I may end up hurting him.

“Well, why don’t we go see if I can make his acquaintance? You’re my girl, Cee, and I don’t want to wait any longer to start our life. So listen…” I wrap my hand around the back of her neck, angling it up so that I can steal a kiss. “We’re going to go find him. I’m going to tell him who I am, and who we are. We’ll see how it goes, but I’m telling you right now—you’re not getting away from me again, Cee. Not ever. You hear me?”

THIRTEEN

CEE CEE

“Dad?”I see the silhouette of him facing the windows in his office. He’s lost weight even since I arrived. The man I remember from my childhood with his round belly and full cheeks is dwindling. His handmade suits hang on his shoulders and I’ve tightened his belt to a new spot just this week. He lifts his head slightly at the sound of my voice, but he doesn’t answer or turn.

I look up at Thorne, who strokes my hair and takes a step in front of me.

“Mr. Peabody.”

My father spins the chair around one hundred and eighty degrees, making me flinch against what’s coming. Rage? Disappointment? Or just nameless cruelty?

He smiles at me. “You have a guest.”

My heart soars. The smile is unfathomable, but it’s a smile. What I always hoped for and never thought I would get.

“Dad, this is Thorne. He’s a friend from Detroit.”

Thorne slips his hand to my cheek, then looks at my father. “I’m not her friend.” The words might be harsh at any othertime, but his tone is warm. He leans down and kisses me square on the lips, drops his hand from my cheek to pinch my chin, forcing my eyes to look deep into his before he speaks to again. “We’re not going to lie, CeeCee. I’ll take it from here, baby.”

“What the fuck-all is going on, Cecelia?” My father’s snarl cuts me to the core, sinking any hope I might have had for happiness and pleasantries.

When I glance back up, Thorne’s face is stoic. He’s lost the light in his eyes and his manner has changed. I feel coldness from him for the first time since we met.

“Sir.” Thorne’s smile is forced, I can tell. It’s narrow, contained. “I’m not a friend of CeeCee’s. It’s more than that. I’m marrying her. Soon. As soon as we can, in fact.”

My eyes go wide and I turn my palms up with a shrug. I lean forward until his eyes come down to meet mine. “Is that a proposal?”

Thorne turns and lays a hand on my cheek, his smile turning genuine, just for a moment. “I don’t need to ask for what’s mine, Cee. Am I right?”

I roll my eyes. The brat in me wants to smack his hand away and tell him he’s a presumptuous oaf, but I can’t because he’s right. I’m already his. This feels right, and I feel very safe, protected, loved. So I shrug and give my dad a half smile, waiting for his reaction.

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