39. Accuse me

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"Cara," my dads voice sliced across my thoughts as I was heading back to my room. My mind was still wondering back to the stomach clenching thrill I felt on the motorbike.

I turned back to acknowledge him, we were still barely on speaking terms and each moment between us was laden with uncomfortable silence. I wasn't ready to accept and move on just yet.

"Hi," I mumbled staring at anything but his face.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" He asked formally.

"It's a free country," I shrugged.

"In here," he stepped back so I could walk past him into his apartment reluctantly. I could already tell this wasn't going to be a fun conversation, for some reason no one could make my blood boil like my dad. Maybe it was because I'd had so many years of anger building up inside or maybe because I wanted to let all that anger out on my mom but she wasn't here any more.

"So what's up?" I got straight to the point as I loitered in the entranceway not wanting to commit to sitting down, that meant I was going to have to stay.

"Tea or coffee?" Dad offered, I liked to get to the point whereas he preferred to skirt it.

"I'm fine," I shot him down not caring about his injured expression.

"Okay," dad smiled half heartedly but he still continued to go over to the kettle and start boiling it. He set two cups on the counter regardless of my desires and proceeded to make two cups of coffee while I waited in awkward silence.

"I didn't want one," I repeated when dad held out the steaming cup towards me.

"Just in case," he placed it on the table beside me and even though I needed coffee right now but for the pure reason of being stubborn I'd rather eat my own hand than drink it.

"So what did you want to talk to me about?" I emphasised wanting to be done with this as quickly as possible.

"I saw you left with Grey earlier, on a motorbike ...,"

"Yes," I waited for him to get to the point.

"I'm not sure how I feel about that," his voice remained measured as he gaged my response.

"Funnily enough your feelings aren't my first priority," I shrugged simply. I was being harsh and I knew it but I couldn't find it inside me to care.

"Cara!" Dad reprimanded, "I'm your father and I don't appreciate you speaking to me like that. I'm concerned about who you're hanging out with and how they may be influencing you."

"Influencing me," I repeated incredulously.

"Yes, I don't know what our mom let you do but I'm sure she protected you against people who might hurt you and I wish to do the same."

I wish she'd been able to protect me.

"Grey's not going to hurt me," I spat furiously, "none of the boys would ever hurt me."

"Maybe not intentionally," dad admitted, "but those boys have difficult lives and people around them can get hurt."

"Difficult lives," I shook my head, "what if it's the other way around dad? Did you ever consider that? What if it's me that could hurt them."

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