The Seven Day Gangster

Epilogue

This is the final end of the story, and I'm in a hurry as I type, otherwise I'd just say thanks to everyone again and again for sticking through this story and reading it. I sincerely hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing about it!

k, g2g

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"I have a GP 35 handgun in the next room," threatened my dad, swinging open the door without any preamble of any kind. He glared through the open doorway, his shoulders tense and his back stiff.

"E-Excuse me?"

"And I have excellent aim," my dad added brusquely, his arms crossed.

"S-sir, y-your package arrived this m-morning," stammered the poor delivery guy, who looked not much older than myself. He held out a box in his arms, as well as a clipboard with a pen. "I-I'm so sorry. C-could you s-sign here please?"

"Oh." My dad's shoulders sagged considerably. "I'm so sorry about that," he said blandly. He reached down and took the box from the terrified delivery kid and signed his name quickly.

Then the guy raced off down the driveway, turning so quickly that the pen on his clipboard flew off into the bushes. He didn't even spare it a second thought though.

"Dad," I hissed. "What the heck was that?"

"What?" said my dad innocently, turning around. He was grinning. "I thought he was your boyfriend."

I glared at him. "You can't act like that. It's not normal. Please. Please, don't be like this to Nathan. He's a great guy, not some pot-smoking, knife-wielding lunatic. So cut the act. Jeez."

My dad raised his eyebrows. "Well if he's not a bad guy, then he should have no problem with me."

I glowered at him. His logic was stupid, but I couldn't argue with it.

"He's going to get creeped out by you!"

"If he likes you that much, a creepy dad shouldn't be a problem, should it?" countered my dad, crossing his arms.

Ugh. Ugh. I had nothing to say.

I threw up my arms in exasperation. Arguing with him was pointless.

"Whatever," I muttered. Just let it be known that I had warned Nathan beforehand. "What came in the mail, by the way?" I gestured at the package in my dad's hands.

"Oh, nothing much," said my dad calmly. "Just a Taser and some handcuffs."

He turned around, looking for a place to set the box down.

My eyes boggled. What the freaking hell?

I spun around and stared at him, my mouth open. "What? What? Dad!"

My dad cut me off, his booming, contagious laughter filling the front of our house. He spun around, choking some more at my face.

"Look at your face, honey. Look at it!" he said in hysterics, his hands clapping loudly together. "I can't believe you fell for that!"

My dad nearly fell over, getting so damn hysterical over his stupid joke. I scowled at him. "Okay. You're freaking hilarious," I said flatly.

My dad shook his head, wiping tears from his eyes. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry, that was mean, wasn't it? Here, can you take this box into the kitchen?" He handed me the package. I shook it once in my hand, still not sure if my dad had been lying or not. You could never tell with that guy.