Page 34 of Runaway Girl
Riffling through his closet, I swiped some sweatpants and slides, then went searching for my belongings.
My bag was on the couch, and when I checked my phone, Alexis had given me the all-clear to return to the apartment. I was glad she had left for Acacia Falls so she wouldn’t have to see my busted face.
That’s when a ghastly bang echoed from the kitchen, followed by an impressive list of curse words. I ran in and stopped short before a middle-aged man who I immediately recognised as Ethan’s dad. I’d previously noted their resemblance in passing photos, but seeing the man in the flesh—yeah, there was no denying their relation.
Great.
“Who—”
“You must—”
We both blurted at the same time.
I crossed my arms over my chest, self-conscious since I was in his son’s clothes, sans bra. I needn’t have bothered—he didn’t even register my attire. Instead, his gaze hooked on my face, his own blanching of colour when he catalogued my injury.
“Who—who did that to you?” he asked, borderline distraught.
Awkward.I didn’t reply. What the hell was I supposed to say?
Either way, I didn’t have to answer because he had already come to the right conclusion, his displeasure blatant by the trembling fists at his sides and the potent anger twisting his features.
“Right, he’s done for.”
He shifted, grabbed a frying pan from the cupboard and raced past me in the direction of Ethan’s room.
Oh, no.
I followed suit but couldn’t keep up.Damn, old man has wheels.
When I reached the threshold of Ethan’s room, I was already too late.
Thump.“Ahhhh!”Thump.“Fuck!”Thump.“STOP!”
Ethan’s dad was standing on top of the bed, beating the frying pan against his son’s ass. It didn’t make much of an impact due to the thick blanket protecting Ethan’s rear. Although, based on his screams, you’d think he was being murdered.
I had to hand it to Daddy Harris, though—he was giving it his all, which gave me a sick sense of satisfaction, sprinkled with some nostalgic deja vu. I couldn’t help it when my mouth lifted into a smirk as I leant against the doorframe, invested in the show.
If only I had some popcorn.
Ethan soon escaped the mattress, chest heaving as he faced off against his father.
“What the fuck, Dad!? Are you insane!? What the hell did I do!?”
Oop. Harris Senior looked like he was on the verge of committing homicide.
“Look at her face! THAT’S WHAT YOU DID!”
Ethan’s beady eyes bounced to me, and his whole body pulled taut with awareness. A multitude of emotions played over his features, three taking precedence.
Devastation. Sorrow. But worst of all, guilt.
And his dad had no qualms interpretingthatlittle gem. Mr Harris jumped off the bed, ready to destroy his son when I stepped between them.
He huffed. “Don’t protect him, girl, he’s not worth it.”
I shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s not what it looks like. I accidentally got hit in the head with a football, then landed on my face.”
His brow lifted high in a sarcastic arch. “That’s what you’re going with?”
