𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗬𝗗𝗔𝗬, 𝟮𝟰/𝟳

Chapter 8

It was late evening the next, when I checked my phone after what had been days without looking at it. After scrolling through the long lines of texts from my father, and seeing how worried and angry he was, I decided it was time for me to finally head back.

I said goodbye to Pope and JJ, then took off straight to Kildare's Sheriff County, where I knew my father would be working. As I walked along the road, I picked at my clothing. It was days old, and I wasn't even in my uniform.

Would he be angry? What a stupid question, of course he'd be angry. I wouldn't be surprised if I wasn't allowed back into the house until I was married. But then again, I was sure he missed me. I knew my Dad like I knew the back of my palm, and admittedly, I sort of missed him too.

He was my father, not some evil tyrant. I loved him, and deep down, I was glad that yes, I'd gone off with the Pogues, but I also wanted routine. I also wanted Dad back.

I pushed open the door to the Sheriff Department, and Dad looked up from his desk. "Mercedes," he breathed, standing up.

"Dad!" I completely broke my nonchalant character, and bolted straight into his arms. We hugged, and when I pulled back I said, "I'm sorry."

"As long as you're okay," he promised.

"I'm sorry I didn't call, and I know your mad—"

"That's all over now, I'm just glad you're alive," he sniffed a little.

"Can we—can we start over again?" I asked.

"Of course," Dad said.

But the moment we started to head into his office, the front door burst open, and Ward tumbled in. He was bleeding heavily, and panting, but insisted that he talk to Deputy Shoupe. Dad only said that I had to be there as well, but Ward had already started spilling.

"And the kid goes and stabs me with the damn poker," Ward panted, holding a bit of tissue over his arm wound.

"Hold on—you're saying John B did this?!" I said.

"He's crazy, he stole my jet ski and is off to god knows where," Ward said to my Dad.

"When was this?" Peterkin scribbled this down on her notepad.

"Just this morning, we went fishing out in the marsh. I'm worried about my family, about Sarah. Apparently the two of them had something," Ward said.

"John B wouldn't do that!" I stood up.

"Mercedes," Dad warned. He had originally put me on probation, but when I came back, he said that was all over. This was supposed to be my second chance to fix things with him, and I was toeing the line greatly.

"Can you get her out of here? I don't need the kid—" Ward said.

"This is bullshit!" I yelled.

"Mercedes—"

"John B wouldn't do that," I insisted.

"Sit down," Dad ordered me.

"No—if you wanna believe him, that's fine dad! But I'm leaving," I stormed out of the Sheriff office, slamming the door shut, and walked back to John B's again.

"Back so soon?" JJ asked from the chair in the front yard.

I quickly explained how Ward Cameron had shown up wounded, and had blamed it on John B. No later than I had said so, John B suddenly stormed by us, and started rummaging around the house. He ignored everything we yelled at him, even my questions about Ward. When he finally pulled the gun from a backpack, we panicked, but all he said to us was: