Blind Fools

Blind Fools: Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Two gruff-sounding men from the security team held Ophelia’s father back away from Ian, and he seriously considered pressing charges on the man. Ho-boy! The older man still had a punch. Now, why did he hit me? Ian wanted to know, but the ringing in his skull hadn’t dimmed down yet, so words were futile at the moment.

Five minutes ago, praises rained down from the audience in the gallery as they got their first glimpse of Love’s Perception, andOphelia stood nervously at his side. Then all of a sudden, her fidgeting stilled like she’d turned to stone. Ian tried to get over to her and ask what was wrong, but she bolted off the stage and someone said she looked pale and ill.

He tracked her to the restroom, but then her father started yelling at him and hitting him, and Ian couldn’t understand any of it. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded of Bart Masters, rubbing his jaw. Ann Masters stood off to one side, and if it weren't for the blast of icy air coming off the woman, he might have forgotten she was there.

The door of the bathroom swung open, cutting off an answer from Bart, and Ian’s nose stung as the potent smell of vomit mixed with rose-scented air freshener wafted out. “Ophelia,” he said, stepping up to her. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“Get away from her, you asshole,” Mr. Masters growled, trying to fight off the security men.

Ian tilted his head and focused on the woman before him. Something was…different… “Ian, tell your men to let him go,” Ophelia demanded in a cool tone. “And Daddy, behave yourself. I’ll handle this.”

“Phe-phe, he—“ her father began.

“No!” Ophelia cut in. “I said I’ll handle this. Take Momma back to the hotel before she pulls out a nail file and stabs someone with it.”

Ian frowned. This was a very weird family, and he thought his relatives were nuts. Why would sweet Ann Masters stab someone with a nail file? Ophelia’s father emitted another growl as he brushed roughly past Ian and gathered up his wife. The security guys followed them. From behind Ophelia, Tiki stepped out of the bathroom. “Phe?” she said.

“I’ll meet you at the car,” Ophelia answered, and that did not sound good to Ian. She was leaving? Already? She really must be sick.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” he asked, stretching his palm up to feel her face. She moved aside, keeping out of reach. He dropped his hand, dejected by her manner. “You threw up; I can smell it. What’s wrong?”

“No, I’m not okay, Ian,” she said, her words biting off after every syllable. “How could you do that to me? When did I ever give you permission to display me like…like that?”

“Like what, Ophelia. I’m confused about what the hell is going on around here. Your father attacks me, I could feel your mother’s evil eye, and now you’re biting my head off. What’d I do, anyway?”

She growled…Ophelia growled at him. Ian reared back from the feral, earthy sound of it.