Transparent (24 page)

My father takes a step forward. “You didn’t say good-bye. How do you think that makes me feel?”

I almost apologize, but I choke it back down. I’m not supposed to feel bad for leaving him. Or am I? “W-what are you doing here?”

“What do you think, idiot?” Graham seethes. “After everything I—”

Dad pulls out his favorite silver gun and points it at Graham. “Traitors don’t get to talk.”

“Dad, let me—”

Dad pulls the trigger, and Graham lets out a primal scream. Clutching his leg, he crashes into the ground. A small pang of guilt hits me, and it grows as I watch my brother suffer. Brady hurting him was one thing, but Dad shooting him means something totally different.

It means Graham had almost pulled off his plan, and I just ruined it.

Suddenly the reasons why he wanted to help us don’t matter like they did before. He put his neck on the line for me, for Mom. Dad might actually kill him for this. As much as I hate Graham, I never wished him dead.

“It was a brilliant plan, though, son.” Dad stands over him, and Graham sounds like he’s crying. “Bringing me this close to them, using the perfect decoy—that takes guts, smarts.”

When he points the gun at him again, my voice finally wells up inside. “Stop!”

Dad’s attention snaps to me, and he smiles. “But Graham missed one thing, didn’t he, sweetie?”

I shrink back, unsure of what I should do. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He didn’t realize what a pain in the ass you really are.” He takes a step forward, the gun now at his side. “How headstrong …” Another step. “Rebellious …” And another. “Independent …” He reaches his hand out, finding my shoulder and then my face. “How hard to control, just like your damn mother.”

I can’t find air as I search his dark eyes, and The Pack’s words are muddled against his perfect voice. His fingers are soft, forgiving. I must have caused him so much trouble. What did he do all this time without me? What if he missed me? What a horrible daughter I’ve been, leaving him. Maybe if I apologize he will forgive me. I want him to.

Seth pushes his hand away. “Don’t touch her!”

I gasp at the sound of his voice. What am I thinking? It’s Seth who cares about me. Seth would miss
me
if I left, not just my ability. I hold on to the thought. “Dad, just take the Radiasure and go. I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

He laughs. “You? Hurt me? How?”

“I have no problem hurting you.” Brady steps in front of me, and The Pack surrounds me from the sides. Thank goodness I brought them; otherwise this would have been over already. I watch Bea, worried that my dad already has her under his spell. She stares at him, but her glare is hard and unwavering. Hopefully that means she’s trying to resist.

Dad frowns. “You’d let these punks beat up your own father?”

It does sound pretty heartless, but I focus on Seth’s hand in mine. “Yes.”

“Tsk, tsk.” He takes a step back. “Perhaps I should have sent you to finishing school.”

“What do you want us to do, Fi?” Carlos whispers to me.

I gulp. I wish it was an easy answer; it should be. My dad is alone, and he was stupid enough to shoot his ride. I can’t think of a time he’s been this vulnerable—and he knows it. I can tell by the way he stands, right hand tightly gripped on his gun. But he’s still my dad. And more than that, wouldn’t beating or killing him make me a fledgling syndicate boss? That’s the last thing I want, to become like him.

“Just … restrain him,” I finally decide. “Watch for the gun.”

“Carlos, there’s rope in our truck,” Seth whispers.

“Got it.”

The boys tense around me. I can feel them preparing for the worst. Dad won’t hesitate to kill—never has, never will. But if we can tie him up, maybe we can work out a deal or turn him in or something. At least I could get away and clear my head, so I can make a real decision.

“Go!” Brady yells.

Carlos goes for the truck, and everyone else charges, save Seth. He pulls me toward the nearest brush, while my senses fill with the commotion. The Pack yelling. The feel of dirt flying up at the footsteps. The sight of my friends throwing themselves at one of the most powerful men in the West.

Dad doesn’t move, doesn’t even go for his gun, and I swear I can see the gleam of his crooked smile.

My blood chills. Something is wrong.

That’s when I notice Bea has stopped. She stares at my father. Then she opens her mouth.

The noise is unlike anything I’ve ever heard, a sound so loud and horrible it feels like my brain might explode. It warbles at a high pitch, completely inhuman. I cover my ears, but it doesn’t keep them from burning. The Pack stops cold, crumbling from the pain.

I close my eyes, sure my eyeballs might pop out if I don’t. I had no idea Bea could do that, and there’s only one reason she would. The noise stops, but my ears still ring. I check them for blood.

“He just misses his daughter! Is that any reason to tie him up?” Even Bea’s normal voice hurts now.

“That is a lovely gift, dear.” My dad unplugs his ears. “Where did you learn it?”

She tips her chin up. “I used to cry like that as a baby. My parents had to wear earplugs until they could teach me not to.”

“A natural talent, of course.” He holds his hand out to her. “I’m so glad someone here understands me.”

She smiles when she runs into his arms, and he caresses her hair. “My brothers can be total dumbasses. I’m so sorry.”

“Not to worry. It seems you taught them a lesson, beautiful.”

We slowly pick ourselves off the ground, backing away from my Dad. He has Bea. Every bad thing he’s done to me … that could easily be her fate. Or worse. What do we do now? I’d hoped she could resist the lure long enough to get out of here, but I’d forgotten how easily most women fall.

Don’t panic. Don’t panic.
I’m so panicking.

Brady stays out front, his eyes filled with horror. “Trixy, you need to come with me right now.”

She glares at him. “You were going to kill him, weren’t you?”

“You know I would never.” He holds his hand out. “Beatrix, please. I beg you.”

Her eyes go wide, a split second of recognition filling them, but then she hardens. “Why should I?”

“Because …” He falls to his knees.

My dad laughs. “I think, my dear, that he’s trying to say he loves you.” He runs a finger along her cheek. “But he doesn’t, does he? Not like I do.”

“He pushes me away,” she says. “Always just friends, even though I’ve been there for him through everything. I’m not afraid of his strength, but he doesn’t believe me.”

“I do love you!” Brady punches the ground, and the shock wave vibrates under my feet. “I just don’t want to hurt you! You know better than anyone what I can do. Just the smallest mistake and … I can’t hurt you.”

Tears fall from Bea’s face, even though she looks angry. “Well, you do. Every minute hurts. All I ever want is you, and you never cared, not really.”

“Bea …” Brady slumps forward. “Stop this. You’re not thinking right.”

“Cruel boy.” Dad hugs her. “Don’t worry. I would never do something like that to you. You’re too special.”

“Bea,” Joey says. “C’mon, we’re your brothers—you know you can trust us.”

“Yeah,” Hector says. “We love you, too.”

“You can’t leave us,” Tony says. “We’re family.”

Bea frowns, as if she’s searching for more justifications. “But I’m always on the outside. The only girl. Always treated differently.”

“That’s not true and you know it!” Carlos says.

She does know it; at least she would if Dad weren’t here.

Dad catches her gaze. “There are lots of girls where I live. And they would love you like a sister.”

“Dad!” I can’t take it anymore. Watching him do this to Bea makes my whole life too clear. He never stops spewing lies. That’s all I have to remember and I’ll be fine. “Stop. Right now.”

He raises an eyebrow. “And why should I? This is finally getting fun. Your friend is quite beautiful, and useful, too.”

Standing tall, I convince myself I can do this. “Me and the Radiasure—all you have to do is give her back and promise no one here gets hurt.”

I know he’ll take the deal; as powerful as Bea is, there’s only one of me. The Radiasure is icing on the cake at this point, though it’s technically already his. Dad’s eyes gleam, as if that’s what he planned all along. “Sounds fair.”

Seth tugs at my arm. “Are you insane?”

My heart aches at the thought of leaving him, but it’s the only way they’ll be safe. “Trust me, okay?”

His eyes glisten as he pulls me closer. “He’s tricking you, too. You can’t leave.”

“He’s not, I swear. You heard him—I have some resistance. I’ll figure this out.” I kiss his cheek, savoring the slightly rough feel of it. “I know what I want now. I want you to be safe and happy—same goes for everyone. I’ll come back, promise.”

“Fiona …”

“I know. I don’t want to, either, but you can’t say I’m not doing the right thing.” I give him one last hug. If I don’t go now, I won’t.

“I hate you,” he whispers.

I smile. “I hate you, too. Also, we’re stealing your car.”

Seth shakes his head as he hands me the keys. “You better bring it back.”

“I will.”

As I pull away from Seth, everything feels wrong. It hurts deep in my bones, but I savor it. This is real. I can’t forget that.

“Done with your good-byes, sweetie?” Dad calls, his voice sickly happy.

“Miles, get the crate.” I walk over to my father, determined not to lose myself to him again. This time, he’s the one who’ll get played. Once I figure out a plan, at least. “If you’d be kind enough to help put Graham in the truck bed.”

Dad complies. Graham grunts as we get him in place, but he doesn’t fight. There’s so much blood, and he’s shaking. Sweat beads his face. I hop in the truck bed and pull off my hoodie.

“What’re you doing?” Graham croaks.

“What do you think?” I wrap it around his leg and pull tight.

He winces.

“Fiona,” Dad calls. “Up front.”

“But—”
Graham needs help. Bad. Because of me.

“Don’t waste more time on that traitor.” He motions to the cabin. “Now.”

I watch my friends grow smaller and smaller as I drive away. Tears stream silently down my face as I realize I may never see them again.

Dad wastes no time being his usual self. Since Graham is still bleeding and possibly dying in the back, he’s got the gun pointed at Miles. He knows if I have any plans that’ll snuff them right out. “Take me to Lauren.”

“Don’t do it, Fi,” Miles says.

Dad puts the gun to my brother’s temple. “You know, you’re the stupidest one here. I’d practically forgotten about your worthless ass.”

He scoffs. “Is that supposed to make me feel bad?”

“Don’t push it.”

Miles lets off a horrible smell, something like crap mixed with gross perfume. “Maybe
you
shouldn’t push it.”

Dad tightens his fingers, and I know he’ll pull the trigger eventually if I don’t do something. It was bad enough watching Graham get that. “I’ll take you to Mom, okay? Just don’t hurt him.”

He takes the gun away from Miles’s face. “That’s my girl.”

He probably thinks I’m caving to his presence. I’m not; at least I don’t think so. I’m just buying time to form a plan. If Mom really doesn’t want him back—and I’m pretty sure she’s serious—then that’s one more on our team. I have a feeling Graham might be, too.

I check the rearview mirror. Graham’s feet bounce and bump back and forth. I can’t stop thinking about when he first showed up, how he grabbed me by the neck and threatened me. He told me not to get mouthy until I could fight back. The delivery was crap, but I think I finally get what he meant, what Miles meant when he said Graham was right.

I’m a runner. I’ve spent my whole life taking the path of least resistance. Before living in Madison, I never had to face anything. I did what Dad told me to, and when I wasn’t doing that, I numbed myself to the horrible things I’d done. I ran from my problems, not realizing I was on a treadmill. They’ve always been right behind me, waiting for me to slow down so they can destroy me. Never once did I think I could stop altogether, turn around, and fight them. Maybe that’s what happens when you don’t know who you are or what you want.

But that’s not who I am anymore.

Dad has no idea what he’s up against, and he won’t as long as I put on the best act of my life.

When I pull up to the house, I take a deep breath to calm myself—there’s no turning back now.

“Get your brother,” Dad says to us.

When we reach the back of the truck, Graham looks dead. I check for a pulse. It’s there, so he must have passed out from the pain. Miles hops into the back of the truck, despite his slight limp. I take Graham’s legs, and we heft him down the path to the front door. For a guy who flies, he’s shockingly heavy.

Dad bangs on the door, the gun still pointed at us. It seems like an eternity passes without Mom answering. Dad pushes the doorbell twice. Finally, the lock clicks. When Mom sees who’s waiting, her face goes white. She almost shuts the door, but she catches sight of Graham. Then, maybe for the first time ever, she glares at Dad. “What did you do to him?”

“I was merciful, considering he’s a traitor.” Dad pushes his way in. “Be warned, Lauren, I don’t have much mercy left.”

Mom ignores him, heading for us instead. “Put Graham on the couch.”

Dad laughs. “You think I’d let you stay in here with this many escape routes?” He waves the gun. “A windowless room. Now.”

Mom doesn’t move, as if she wants to fight back, but then she heads for the laundry room. Still, it gives me hope. If Graham weren’t shot, if Miles didn’t have a black eye, she would have fought back. Maybe her kids really do come first.

Dad shoves us in there with a grin. “I’m calling for an escort. Then we can have a little family reunion.”

After he shuts the door, I hear something shoved in front of it. Probably a chair, since his muffled voice sounds nearby.

“How did he find us?” Mom whispers through tears. She strokes Graham’s hair, all her strength replaced by fear.