Page 20 of Wild Side
It’s from Sable.
Wrinkling my frosting-tipped nose, I read her message.
SABLE: Did you tell him? I’m not sure how much longer I can hold back your father.
Lifting the back of the hand that isn’t holding my phone, I slide it across my nose to wipe the frosting off, then, because I’m alone, I lick the back of my hand. This is probably the best buttercream I’ve had in my entire life, and I don’t want to waste an ounce.
I saw him. I didn’t tell him.
SABLE: You fucked him.
I did.
I’m not sure I should admit that. If she’s doing what she’s doing with my father, I don’t want her to tell him. Obviously, she’s not above telling him my secrets since he now knows where I am, and I’m not the one who gave him that information.
SABLE: Damn, girl. He must be good.
The best. But I don’t tell her that. Instead, I try to shift the conversation.
I’m telling him tomorrow. I need a decent night’s sleep. I’m exhausted from traveling.
None of which is a lie. I am tired, bone tired. I’m also nervous and overly stimulated. I need to rest my body and mind. Sable promises to hold my dad back another day. I don’t really care. He can come barreling into town if he wants to.
Unfortunately, I’ve made my bed, and now I have to lie in it. Crumbs and all. Turning my phone notifications to silent, I find the remote control and turn the television on. I flip through the channels until I settle on an old episode ofCatfishbefore I lean against the headboard and finish my delicious cupcake.
I’m not sure how long I sit with my back against the headboard watching television, but long enough that I nod off, and when I wake up, something else is on, and I feel completely out of my element.
Frowning, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and decide to take a quick shower and change into my pajamas. I can’t believe I fell asleep with the lights on and the television blaring. I don’t know if I’ve ever done that before.
After I’m showered and changed, I turn the lights off and slide into bed. Changing the channel, I find a movie as background noise, then reach for my phone and decide to do a little scrolling. I feel wide awake, and since it’s three in the morning, there’s not much else I can do.
I have a few notifications on my phone, and when I open them, I’m surprised to see that they aren’t from Sable. They’re from my dad. One missed call, a voicemail, and a text message.
My dad and I aren’t super close. He raised me, but it was very much a totalitarian household. I didn’t have a voice. I did as I was told, because my father’s word was law. Which is why Iwas always the good girl, never got into trouble, and have always followed his rules… until now.
Communication was very much a one-way street and still is with him. Orders are given. Orders are followed. He doesn’t necessarily call me, and when he does, it’s to dictate something.
But this?
This is different.
DAD: Call me. I’m worried about you.
Worried?
He told me I ruined my life.
The time stamp reads an hour ago, which tracks since it’s a three-hour time difference. I think about ignoring the message, but it bothers me. Never, not once, not even when we’ve been on lockdowns, not even if someone has been gunning down members, has my father ever expressed concern to me about me.
Finding his name in my phone, I touch the call button and hold it to my ear as it rings. It only rings twice before I hear him clear his throat and grunt my name as my greeting. That’s normal. That is how he always answers the phone, which is a bit of a comfort to me, considering his messages were not like him at all.
“Sorry, I didn’t get your messages. I was sleeping.”
He doesn’t respond immediately. When he does, he clears his throat again before he speaks. “Why didn’t you tell me it was someone from North Carolina?” he demands.
“I’m handling it myself,” I state.
I don’t want to get into an argument over this. It’s not worth it. What’s done is done, and I just need to take it one step at a time. Step one was telling my dad, step two was flying out here, step three is telling Maverick. I haven’t gotten there yet, so I still need a little more time.
