Page 4 of Quiet Rage
The slight tugging at the corners of his mouth tells me he knows the effect he’s having. His nose twitches before a menacing smile slowly spreads and chills my blood. “I can smell the fear on you, little dragonfly.”
He might as well have hit me, since I’m reeling and a little dizzy by the time he effortlessly moves through the crowd and out of the room.Dragonfly? It doesn’t make sense at first, until I realize he was talking about the dragonfly I got tattooed on my right wrist after a drive-by shooter took my brother away last year. My quiet way of keeping him with me.
I’ve never wished he was here more than I do right now.
Chapter 3
Kellen
Dad:See me in my office before you leave for class. Very important.
Great. That’s exactly the text I wanted to wake up to this morning. My eyes are dry and gritty after yet another night that ran so late that I ended up sleeping in the room upstairs where I crash when necessary.
It’s also where Dad first sent one of his girls to ‘entertain me.’ That’s how he describes it. I’m being entertained by hookers on his payroll. Definitely not the kind of father most people want.
Rolling onto my back, I rub my fists over my eyes and groan. It’s like somebody packed my brain in cotton. I closed the curtains over the windows before dropping into bed, but enough light leaks in around the edges to tell me it’s a bright, sunny day. I don’t know why that bothers me like it does. I can’t expect the weather to match my mood. It’s a good thing it doesn’t, since that would mean storms all the time.
All the rooms up here have private bathrooms attached, so the girls who are working can clean themselves up between clients.I take advantage of that now, grabbing a cool shower that goes a long way toward waking me up. By the time I’m finished and running a towel over myself, I feel a lot more human.
That doesn’t mean I’m in any hurry to get downstairs to Dad’s office, but I do have to be at school, too. It’s one thing for Dad to lean on me like he does when I’m on break, but this whole burning-the-midnight-oil thing is almost impossible to deal with when I’m also carrying a full course load. It would be beyond a waste of time to even bring it up with him, of course. He only hears what he wants to hear, and everything else is noise.
The building is eerily silent, but I break that silence as I tread the stairs that creak and moan under my weight. The only door open is the one leading into the office, and I can hear him in there as I join him, using one of those old-fashioned adding machines to work out last night’s take.
“I won’t keep you long,” he tells me without looking up from his work, which means he’s not asking me something. He’s telling me something. Granted, he doesn’t usually ask for my opinion about anything he wants from me. I’m supposed to fall in line no matter what request he comes up.
Finally, he glances up, narrowing his eyes at me from behind the pair of thick glasses he wears when he’s tackling business. “You don’t look so good. Are you getting sick?”
“It could be because I’m burning the candle at both ends.” That’s about the nicest way I can think to remind him he’s working me to death. “I haven’t been sleeping much.”
“Then you’ll be glad to know I have something I need you to do that won’t keep you up so late at night. I want you to turn all of your attention to this. It’s important.”
“I’m listening.”
“You remember Frank? You rearranged some of his teeth the other day?”
He’s a real fucking poet. “Yeah, I remember.”
“He’s still holding back on me. I know he is.” His nostrils flare the way they do when he’s feeling disrespected, which is most of the time. I don’t know how he functions with that huge chip on his shoulder. “So he’s giving me no choice but to take action in other ways. That’s where you come in.”
I thought he said he wasn’t going to keep me. I’m already bored of this and trying my best to hide it. “What do you need me to do?”
“I found out his daughter got a scholarship to Wicked Falls University.” He lowers his brow, and now those magnified eyes are gleaming dangerously. “Which means coming into contact with you. And she will, because you’re going to make her pay if her old man won’t. Understood?”
“What are you thinking?” I ask before a yawn damn near splits my head in two.
He shrugs his shoulders and waves a hand before going back to the adding machine. “You know what to do by now. Just make sure he knows who he’s fucking around with. Make her wish she never got that damn scholarship in the first place. Make her miserable but do it in a way he’ll have to notice.”
“Can I at least know who this girl is? It’s been a long time since I went to his store—and I was only ever familiar with the son. He died, didn’t he?”
“Yeah, he did.” And he sounds bored talking about it even briefly like this. “Here. Here’s who you’re looking for.”
He hands me his phone, where he pulled up a picture of Frank’s daughter, and all I can do is wonder if this is a joke. “You’re kidding,” I mutter, looking down at her. She’s smiling wide in this photo and her baby blue eyes almost jump out at me.
Dragonfly.What are the chances?
“Oh, you know her? Tamson Mills?” Dad asks, and now he’s finally giving me his full attention.
“We have a class together,” I murmur, barely hearing him.
