Blind Eyes

Chapter 8

The waiting was killing me.

I was pacing in the hotel room, trying to think about anything besides the fact that my father was currently talking to a crazed man who only hours ago had tried to kill him. Yes, the man was locked up but that didn't make me feel any better.

I stopped my pacing and sat on the end of the bed. The medication the paramedics had given me was beginning to wear off and the throbbing in my head was crawling back. After all the 'excitement' of today, my body was begging sleep but the paramedics had advised me to stay awake for the next few hours in case I had a concussion and besides, I don't think I could close my eyes without knowing that dad was back here safe and sound.

After dad had, reluctantly, gone to the paramedics and been given the all clear, he had told me of his intentions to go and see the man who had attacked us. I had begged him not to but he was adamant that he go and find out why the man had attacked us and how he managed to build an arc reactor. I wanted answers just as much as he did, I just wished that there was another way to get them.

The clock on the wall seemed to be ticking abnormally slow. I needed something to distract myself. My hand instantly reached for the television remote but that idea quickly disappeared when I reminded myself that most channels would be showing footage of the attack which was the last thing I wanted to see. I was afraid that if I watched it, I would find out something horrible like one of the drivers who had been in the accident had died or an innocent bystander had been hit by a piece of flying debris.

I just wanted to forget the attack but I knew that would be virtually impossible. Six months had passed since the last time I had been attacked and the psychological issues were just beginning to fade but I would forever have scars. And this new attack had just given me a few more.

For 16 years I had a nice, cushioned life. The only danger I had ever been in was when dad almost burnt down the house trying to make meatloaf. Now I had to come to terms with the fact that so long as my father was flying around in gold titanium alloy suit, my life would constantly be in danger. And I know that dad will try to protect me as much as he can but there will always be targets on our backs.

And I was scared. But I could never let dad see that.

My mind was racing. Was this attack just the beginning? Were more on the way? If so, I couldn't rely on dad to protect me forever. An idea was beginning to blossom in my mind when I heard the door open.

Leaping off my bed, I ran out into the main room to see dad walking in. The first thing I noticed was his eyes. They were clouded with worry. The next thing I noticed was the purple and black bruise forming on the side of his face. He was lucky that was the only injury he had sustained in the fight.

"Hey Morgs," dad said when he saw me waiting for him. The worry and uneasiness instantly vanished from his face.

"Hey dad." I hugged him quickly before following him to the large gold table that was situated in front of one of the large open windows. "So...?" I prompted.

"So what?" he asked as he sat down and put his feet up on the table.

"So," I said as I sat down next to him and pushed his feet off the table that probably cost over $10,000. "Did the guy say anything?"

I watched as a number of micro expressions went across his face and I knew that he was internally debating how much he should tell me.

"Please tell me the truth," I said with a determined face.

After studying my face for a moment, as if trying to gauge how serious I was, he nodded. "What do want to know?"

"Why did he attack you?" I asked instantly.