Saving Nicole

Chapter 24: Request

Nicole's POV
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What is he doing here? He's never here. Why all of a sudden now?

"Nicole!" He grins his charming smile at me, sending a flurry of butterflies to flutter through my stomach. He's here. He's actually here. My father is home.

He walks towards me with his arms spread wide as if to embrace me. I haven't seen him for... At least 6 months. He's been gone. I'm so excited he's home! But, something seems off. He's a stranger to me, and no one would be able to tell I'm his daughter. We don't look that much alike and we certainly don't act alike. I think.

His arms wrap around me tightly, the happiness building inside me as if I'm about to explode.

Wariness creeps into my body, sending my mind into a frenzy and putting my senses on high alert.

Warmth seeps into me as I bury my face in his shirt with ecstatic enthusiasm. He chortles in amusement, and kisses the top of my head.

That's when I notice Dallas is still here. My eyes dart in his direction, resting on his tense form in surprise. He stands rigid beside me, not bothering to take a step away to give me space to hug my dad. What's wrong with him?

His enticing eyes stare at my father with horrified recognition. When my father's eyes turn to my best friend, something caliginous seeps into his cocoa eyes; malevolent and malicious. I hate that look. I've never seen that look before. It terrifies me.

They stare at each other for a second, my father straightening to his full height and seeming much taller than Dallas. Dallas's mistrusting eyes glint hard as rock from the hall's lighting. Tugging anxiously at his shirt, I get the feeling that these two have met already.

My father's brown eyes seem to look over Dallas's scars on his face, a look of slight triumph flooding his features. Dallas's eyes seem to become a shade darker as well, but his expression stays constant.

This all happens in about two seconds.

Reaching out a hand, Dallas offers his award-winning dimpled smile. Instantly, I feel myself being charmed.

"Hello. I'm Dallas, Nicole's friend." His smile doesn't falter as my father grips his hand. The way he says 'friend' sounds as if there's a hidden meaning.

"Spencer." Dad nods at Dallas, the darkness leaving his eyes until just a sliver of a smile remains. Dallas's eyes seem to flash from green to Shock's eyes for a fraction of a second before returning back to normal. "Pleasure." The word sounds dry on my dad's tongue.

"All mine." Dallas's thick accent fills the air like a blanket covering a sheep already soft with wool.

What on earth is going on?

"Would someone care to enlighten me on what is going on?" I ask lightly. Both heads snap towards me, eyes locked.

"What do you mean, Nic?" Dallas asks me, a stream of unease flowing from him. His hands tuck in his pockets and he leans back on his heels. The air smells of lasagna and I immediately know Dad made me some. The scent wafts into my nostrils, urging me to the kitchen. The little table by the front door reminds me that we should head further in to where it's warmer; and yes, where the food is.

"Something's going on." I state stupidly before continuing on when I get a blank look from both of them. "I'm going to figure it out." Dad just pretends I didn't say anything and turns the way he came.

Following after with Dallas stumbling behind me, I take off my forgotten jacket and place it on a barstool with a huff. The chair pulls back with an agonized screech of protest as I plop my butt onto it. Dallas sits next to me, tense and rigid and ready to leap from his seat. His eyes dart restlessly towards the nearest exit and then back at my dad. It's as if he doesn't realize I'm watching him.

My dad stands at the counter, humming beneath his breath while putting some lasagna on paper plates with the little flower designs that make you think you were at Grandma's house. As soon as my dad dishes my plate, I dig in. I'm starving and my father's lasagna is the best. Dallas seems to stiffen when my father places a plate in front of him, but he mumbles a gracious "Thanks" before eating nonchalantly.

After sitting next to me and eating his own dinner, Dad grabs all of our empty plates and heads through the archway to the small office with the trash in it. I try catching Dallas's eyes, but he's wound-up-tight. When my dad reappears, he smiles at me, his eyes clear of the ugly anger from before. And then he glances at Dallas. They go back to their horrible blackness, seeming to suck at people's souls. "So, Dad? What are you doing home early?" I ask, trying to make small talk. It's dead silent in the kitchen until my father bends down below the sink to grab the counter cleaner and send cleaner droplets all over the counter to rid it of food grime.

"Ah, work let out early today for some reason and I thought it would be nice to see my girl." He grins at me, his dark brown eyes warm towards me. His hands wipe a paper towel methodically across the countertop.

We smile at each other, our eyes twinkling. Dallas looks as if he's seen a ghost.

Maybe he has.

That's when my dad turns to look at Dallas. "Hey, Dallas? Can you come with me for a moment?" He suddenly asks, his voice even and calm. Something's not right. Discomfort surges through me and Dallas obviously feels the same when he nods slowly and hoists himself to his feet. Oh no.