𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐄𝐘
For the past five years, I've managed to avoid him. I've managed to forget about him and move on from him. Mostly. Alex Lancaster and I have history, but nothing will ever change between us.
At least until he shows up at my dad's work...
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FIVE YEARS, SIX MONTHS, AND SEVEN DAYS AGO
Stepping through the door of my house, I walk to the stairs to head to my bedroom. Dad's at work, which leaves me enough time to pack a bag and get back to Alex's before he wakes up.
"Lindsey." I freeze. Turn.
What's he doing here? He should've been at work.
"Dad." I slowly walk back down the steps, anxiety swirling in my stomach. "What are you doing home?"
"Better question, where were you?" He crosses his arms.
"I was at a friend's house." I state. It's not technically a lie.
"And what's this friend's name? Or should I say, what's his name?" Panic swells inside of me.
He knows.
When I don't answer, he steps closer. "Let me guess," He stalks to me, and I instinctively take a step back. "You were slumming around, spreading your legs for any man who gave you the slightest bit of attention."
I'm shaking my head. "No. He's not like that."
"So you admit it. You were with a guy." He's calm. Too calm. "Go upstairs and pack your stuff."
"What?"
"Go upstairs. And pack your stuff." He repeats, slower this time.
"Why?" I whisper.
"We're leaving." He declares, leaving no room for discussion. "Now go."
I shake my head rapidly. "No. No, I'm not leaving."
His facade dissolves. "Yes. You are." He glares.
"No. I'm finally happy here. I'm not going to let you ruin it all." I argue. He can't just make me leave. I won't let him.
"I won't ask you again." He stands up straighter. "Go. Pack. Your. Shit."
"I said no." I step toward him, seething. "I am staying here. You can't force me to leave just because I did something you didn't like! You're never even home to care—"
My face snaps to the side, pain flaring up on the left side.
"No daughter of mine is going to be a whore!" He yells. I bring a shaky hand up to my cheek as my brain refuses to process.
Did he just...
He grabs me by my upper arms, forcing me to look at him. "Now go upstairs and pack your shit. If I tell you again, you'll leave with nothing."
Fear like nothing I've ever felt before flares to life inside me. He hit me. He actually hit me.
"Go." He demands, pushing me away. Without a second thought, I'm running up the stairs and bursting through my bedroom door.
Tears fall steadily as I pack my suitcase, trying to stifle my gasps, but I fail. I pack my necessities before I move onto my sentimental items. I find the photo strip of me and Alex at the fair and more tears fall.
I didn't want it to turn out this way. I need to tell him.
I quickly stuff the box under my clothes, hiding it, then search for my phone. Just then, my dad walks into the room and I freeze.
Is he going to hit me again?
No, that's nonsense. He just let his anger get the best of him. He didn't mean to hit me. Right?
"Give me your phone." He orders, holding a hand out.
"What?"
"Give me your phone, your iPad, your laptop. Any electronics you have." He demands. Why is he doing this?
"Why?" I ask, confused and a little scared.
"Because you and whatever boy you're slutting it up with are done. If I find out you have any contact with him whatsoever, I will make sure he has no future. No career." He glares as my heart breaks.
He'd ruin Alex's life just because of this? Is this really who my father is?
Grasping at straws, I find myself saying, "What about Del?"
He points a stern finger at me. "Your sister is dead. Stop trying to pretend she's still here."
"Then what about Mom?"
"Your mother will be transferred to another hospital." He tells. "Now take your bag and go get in the car."
Quickly, I close my suitcase and hurry downstairs. I stuff my suitcase in the trunk, then get in on the left side, in the backseat. I curl up against the door, my head against the window.
The driver says nothing. He knows better than to say anything.
My heart hurts. Why does it hurt so bad? Why can't I stop crying? I want Alex. I want Del.
I want everything I can't have.
Dad climbs in the car and taps the seat, telling the driver to drive. I curl up even tighter against the door, tears falling.
Why couldn't I just wait? Why couldn't I just stay there in his arms until he woke up? What will he think of me after this?
He's gonna hate me.
I reach up to grab onto the comforting flower pendant that normally rests against my chest, only it's missing. One of the few things I received from Del, and it's gone. The tears fall heavily as I sob as quiet as I can.
I fear if I cry too loud, he'll lash out at me.
No. No, that's insane. It was a one time thing. He didn't mean to hit me. It was an accident.
