Page 30 of Burning Daylight
My father’s fingers grip my shoulder blades harshly, and I wince at the pressure, my body still too wrecked to pull away.
He shakes me slightly, and my head throbs from the motion.
“Answer me,” he demands, low and sharp.
I blink away the fog, trying to focus on his face. “Ye-yes, I understand,” I croak. “But why? Why can’t they know?”
His eyes flick toward the door like someone might be listening. There’s a manic energy around him, as though he’s waiting for something terrible to happen, something that might walk through that door at any moment.
“Because if they find out you’re alive…”
He stops. Cuts himself off, and the unspoken words buzz louder than the pounding in my head. The air grows quiet and tense, and then?—
“Mr. Montgomery, sir,” a voice interrupts, although my vision is so hazy, it’s too difficult to see who.
“What?” he snaps, his blue eyes still staring at me like I might vanish.
“She’s awake.”
I snap out of the memory and swallow against the ache blossoming in my chest.
Not telling her my name was the right choice. The only choice, really. After all, even if she didn’t know of me, she could run home and mention me, and then who knows what would happen?
My entire body tightens when I think about my sperm donor and the way my mother still clings to the idea of him as some sort of twisted salvation. She wants me to crawl on my knees and beg for money. Thinks he’ll welcome us back like some prodigal son story. Or maybe she just wishes he’d be her savior.
I know what’s really waiting there.
Nothing but bitter disappointment.
Even when I had his last name, I didn’t get the perks that came with it, so why the hell she thinks something would change now is beyond me.
My jaw clenches as I stare at the drawing in my black book.
Sighing, I run my fingers through the slight muss on the top of my head, gripping the roots and pulling until it stings. Physical pain is easier than the desolation that swirls when I focus on my family.
My phone rings, jolting me from my daze.
I glance at the clock.Noon.
I’m supposed to meet my mother at the coffee shop in ten minutes.Shit.
Rolling out of bed, I answer the call.
“Brooklynn?”
My sister sniffles on the other end.
“Brooke? You okay?”
“R…Ry-Ry?” she stutters into the phone.
My body freezes at her tone, panicking that she’s had a seizure or is hurt somehow.
I’m dressed and at the front door grabbing my keys within seconds.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“It’s all g-gone.” She gets out.
