Page 90 of Follow Me Down

Chapter Twenty-three

Fallon

––––––––

Iblink up at the ceiling. It’s late morning. I dozed off a few times but I feel like I didn’t get any real sleep. I kept tossing and turning, my mind racing with everything that happened last night. With what my father did.

Last night was supposed to be a night of celebration. The first night of my new life. And yet here I lie, in my old bedroom at my father’s house, wondering if it was all some crazy dream. That the last month never even happened.

Only I know it happened. I squeeze my eyes shut, able to see Titus’ face so clearly it’s as if he’s standing right in front of me. His messy hair. His stormy gray eyes. The pops of color that line his neck before disappearing beneath his shirt.

I can smell him too. I breathe in deeply, so desperate to hold onto every facet of his memory that my head physically aches.

And yet it doesn’t change a single thing. My father won. I’m here and he won. Just like always.

I roll to the side, my stomach lurching.

How could I have been so stupid?

How could I have let my guard down?

How could I have ever believed that he would let me be?

“Fallon,” my father calls through the closed bedroom door. My entire body tenses with his presence. His knuckles wrap against the wood seconds before the door swings open. “Are you going to get out of bed today?”

“No,” I snip, pulling the covers over my head so that I don’t have to look at him.

It took everything I had not to slap him across his smug face last night. I’m not sure I could resist a second time.

“It’s getting late. There’s breakfast in the kitchen.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Well you can’t stay in bed all day, young lady.”

“Actually, I can,” I growl.

“No, you can’t. We have a charity gala tonight and you are to be in attendance.”

“No I won’t.” I toss back the covers and shoot up in bed. “I’m not going anywhere with you.” If looks could kill, my father would be a heap of a man on the floor right now.

“Yes you are. You are going to get out of this bed. You are going to make yourself presentable, and when I get home this evening, you are going to be ready and waiting for me. Do I make myself clear?”

“I’m not a child. You can’tmakeme do something I don’t want to do.”

“Actually, I can. Or did you think Mr. Driscoll’s freedom was without conditions?”

“I thought me being here was the condition?” My voice trembles.

“One of many.” He narrows his gaze at me.

“You can’t get away with this. You know who Titus’ father is, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. I also know that he was cut off from his family years ago. There’s no one coming to save him, Fallon. Now if I were you, I’d do what I say.” With that, he exits my room, pulling the door closed behind him.

How can he do this? How can he set someone up, then use that situation to control me even more than he has in the past?

I used to think I couldn’t dislike my father any more than I already did, but he went and threw that right out the window. I can’t stand the sight of him anymore. And the thought of parading around a charity event pretending like everything is okay feels impossible.

---