Ungifted (8 page)

“He’s already saved your life once.”

“So that makes him an expert?”

“I’m qualified.” Ethan spoke softly but confidently. And he still hadn’t shown any sign of emotion whatsoever. He was calm and collected—not giving away any hint of the kind of tension that existed between us.

“He’s more than qualified, Grace. He took down
Randy
four times in a row.”

“With embarrassingly little effort,” Randy admitted. “If this weren’t about your safety, I’d hate the kid for my sorely bruised ego. Trust me, Grace; you’re safe in his hands.”

“Ethan’s highly skilled in hand-to-hand combat and weapons training,” Dad said.

“Weapons training?” I was unable to refrain from throwing Ethan a startled look.

Ethan blushed and shrugged uneasily. “My uncle is a highly ranked general and an ex-army ranger. He taught me well.”

“Swords, knives, archery…,” Dad bragged. “Just to name a few. He’s also an expert marksman and an expert in martial arts.”

“And an expert in stalking,” I said.

Ethan flinched at my choice of words. It was the first thing that had been able to crack his armor, but neither Randy nor my dad saw his reaction because they were both frowning at me.

“I’m serious,” I told them. “And do you really want someone that dangerous creeping around your daughter all of the time? Having access to my home? My
bedroom
? Did you ever ask him why he wants this job?” I went on. “Do you care at all that he makes me uncomfortable? He even
knows
that he makes me uncomfortable, and he still interviewed for the position. What kind of person does that?”

Dad and Randy both looked startled. I could see that they were second-guessing their decision and apparently so could Ethan. He wasn’t happy about it, either. His eyes narrowed slightly, filled with anger, and then suddenly he flashed me a smug smile.

“How did your meeting with the school psychiatrist go today?” he asked me. “Did he help? Are you feeling better at all? I was really worried about you after your breakdown in class.”

I was too shocked to be angry. Ethan ratted me out on purpose to take the negative attention off of himself. It worked like a charm, too. Dad forgot all about everything I’d just said. “Psychiatrist?” he asked. “Breakdown?”

“It was nothing.”

Dad automatically turned to Ethan. “What happened?”

Ethan didn’t hesitate. “Grace was upset, and she lost her temper. She said some inappropriate things—along with a few choice words that are prohibited at school. It was so unlike Grace that our teacher sent her to the school psychiatrist instead of giving her detention.”

The rat! He had no shame! And worse, he wasn’t affected at all by my look of betrayal. Getting this job was obviously all that mattered to him and he was willing to play dirty to keep it. See if I ever let him carry my books for me again.

My dad digested Ethan’s story and then looked severely at me. “What did the counselor say about your inexcusable display?”

When I stayed silent, my dad sighed. “Grace, if you don’t tell me I will just call the school and speak with your counselor, but I would rather hear it from you.”

I gave up and pulled the prescription out of my bag. As I handed it to my father, I gave Ethan a look that clearly told him I would never forgive him for this. He actually had the nerve to look apologetic, and in that moment I’m pretty sure that Ethan Dunn was my least favorite person in the entire world.

“Antidepressants!” my dad roared. “The nerve of that man! My daughter is not mentally unstable! The school is going to hear about this!”

Of course my depression would be a personal insult to my father. This was exactly the reaction I’d expected from him, but Ethan looked shocked. When my dad pulled out his PDA in search of the school’s phone number, Ethan cleared his throat. “Sir, I strongly suggest you speak with the doctor before you call the school accusing people of things.”

Dad looked murderous but Ethan didn’t back down. “I know Grace very well and, trust me, she needs the help. She probably needs the medication, too. That’s partially why I was interested in taking this job. I’m worried about Grace and no one else appears to be paying enough attention to her to see that there’s a problem.”

I wanted to kick him for what he said, but I had to hand it to him—he really wasn’t scared of my father. Randy was definitely right about that. Never thought that would work to my disadvantage, though. Talk about major suckage.

Dad looked at Ethan, then down to the paper in his hand, and then to Randy. Randy shrugged helplessly and Dad finally looked at me. He sighed as if I were a hopeless case, then looked at Ethan as he said, “Fine. Do what you feel is necessary. Just try to keep any counseling and medication as under the radar as possible.”

“I know you were talking to me, right?” I snapped.

“No. I was talking to him.”

I glanced at Ethan and this time he had the decency to quickly look away.

“Don’t you think therapy and medication should be
my
decision?”

“Do you think it should be, Grace? When you clearly weren’t competent enough to take care of yourself before there was a problem?”

I sucked in a painful breath. My dad had just stripped every ounce of my dignity away. I had to close my eyes, but at least I managed to keep the tears at bay.

“From now on you will consider Ethan your boss. You will respect and obey him. Is that clear?”

“Dad, please,” I whispered, my voice cracking as I fought back silent sobs. “Anyone but him. Hire whatever goons you want and as many as you think I need. They can escort me to the bathroom if it makes you happy and I won’t complain, but please don’t do this to me. Not him.”

“Grace, he’s the best. He’s in every single one of your classes at school. He can protect you at all times and your classmates won’t even have to know. That’s what you wanted. I’m doing this for you.”

“No you aren’t!” I shouted. “You like the idea of having someone watching my every move. You want even more control over my life. Does the US know they’re about to elect a dictator?”

“That’s enough, Grace.”

“Fine. What about my suggestion to go to boarding school?”

Ethan’s head jerked up. “Boarding school?”

“I’d be completely safe in Switzerland or wherever, at some school I was never allowed to leave. I’d get good grades, Dad. I’d stay out of trouble. I’m asking to go. I
want
to go.”

“Boarding school in Europe is not an option.”

“Why? You wouldn’t have to worry about me ever again except to send the school tuition checks.”

“But we couldn’t keep that quiet and we’re less than two weeks away from the election. Do you know what kind of father I would look like if I just shipped you off to be someone else’s problem in some foreign country right as I was about to go into office?”

So once again this had nothing to do with what was best for me. It was all about his image. “Yeah, I do,” I said, my voice having gone stone cold. “You would look like exactly the type of father you are.”

My dad reacted without thinking and smacked me across the face. The hit wasn’t hard enough to knock me over, but it wasn’t just a slap, either. I instantly felt welts rise on my stinging cheek and would not have been able to stop my eyes from tearing up even if I’d tried. Which I didn’t.

To his credit, my father looked as surprised by his actions as I felt, but he didn’t apologize. “If you have anything else you need to get off your chest, you’d better say it now,” he warned me. “Because you will not have another outburst like this again, do you understand? Not at home, and especially not at school. I will set up regular weekly appointments for you with the psychiatrist, and you will go to them until he tells me you are better. Now, I’ve got to go. I have a meeting tonight and won’t be home for dinner. You are not to leave the house under any circumstances without Ethan so call him if you absolutely must go somewhere, but respect his time. He has already been briefed on all other instructions.”

He turned to Ethan then and handed him my prescription. “Make sure she gets these, and if you have any other questions call me.”

Ethan nodded and my dad walked away calling out “I’ll be ready to leave in two minutes, Randy,” as he headed up the stairs.

After he was gone, the only noise in the room was the sound of my sniffling until I felt a hand come down soft on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Grace,” Randy whispered.

I wiped the snot from my nose with my sleeve, not caring in the least how pitiful I looked. “I’m fine,” I muttered and shrugged out from under Randy’s grip. It hurt too much to know that my dad’s bodyguard cared more about me than my own father. His gentle touch was salt in the wound.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I really thought you’d be relieved with his choice.”

“Don’t worry about it. You did your best. Ethan does fit all of my requirements. Not your fault I wasn’t more specific.”

Nobody said anything else until my dad came back downstairs. “Be a good girl. I’ll be home around eleven,” he said, and then kissed my cheek as he breezed past me out the door.

I don’t know if he meant to kiss the cheek that he’d probably just bruised or if he was just so busy he’d already forgotten what he’d done, but it made me sick to my stomach and I was hit with another wave of tears.

When the door slammed shut, Ethan crossed the room to me so fast it startled me. He was full of so much rage I nearly screamed. “Was that the first time he’s done that?” he demanded.

“He didn’t mean to,” I mumbled miserably. “I’ve never stepped out of line like that before.”

My answer wasn’t good enough for Ethan. “Has he ever hit you before?” he demanded again, raising his voice to nearly a shout.

I looked away, hiding the red side of my face from Ethan’s view. “No.”

“If he ever tries it again—”

“He won’t. He has too much to lose to make a mistake like that again.”

Ethan reached his hand out and I flinched away from him reflexively. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, and then pulled my chin up to examine my face.

As his fingers came into contact with my skin, I gasped. Ethan tried to hide the fact that he felt something too, but I saw the way he flinched and nearly pulled his hand back.

I was shocked at how tenderly his fingers brushed my stinging face. His touch was as soft as a feather and flooded me with a feeling of goodness that I couldn’t explain. It was so calm and relaxing that my eyes drifted shut and I released a long, exhausted breath.

“The marks are already fading,” Ethan whispered as he traced what I imagined were fingerprints on my face. All hints of anger had vanished from his voice.

“Are you sure?”

“It won’t bruise,” Ethan promised, wiping the last of my tears off my cheek.

When he pulled his hand away, my body trembled. I wanted nothing more than for him to touch me again. What was going on with me lately? Why did I feel as if I were going completely crazy every time someone touched me?

“Don’t worry,” Ethan said, misunderstanding the look on my face. “No one will ever know what happened.”

Except that was a lie. “You will.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

I couldn’t stand the pity in his voice. “But you’ll still know.”

“Grace.”

“Why did you have to come here?” I cried. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Because you need me. You know you do.
Please
just accept my help.”

I’d never been so confused. Ethan always helped me. Always. He had ever since I’d known him. But we’d never in all these years become friends. Sometimes he looked at me with so much bitterness that I was sure he hated me. So why was he so desperate to have my approval right now? And why when he’d touched me a minute ago was it so painfully tender?

I gave up. “Fine, Ethan,” I said. “You win. Do whatever you want. Move in if it makes you feel better. I’ll be in the living room. I’ve got a ton of homework to do.”

Ethan looked almost disgusted at my concession, but his voice sounded full of relief as he asked, “Do you need any help with it?”

Seriously? “No thanks. Studying is the only thing I’ve ever been able to get right.”

Ethan gave me a few minutes before he joined me, and then he didn’t say much as he did his homework. I wondered if he ever planned on going home, but I didn’t want to ask and make him mad. Besides, knowing my dad, Ethan probably had instructions to stay with me until he got home. I’d probably never be allowed to be alone ever again.

. . . . .

Ethan stayed for dinner.
Awkward
is not nearly a strong enough word to describe the atmosphere when he offered to cook because I shouldn’t be on my foot so much. Then, when I tried to help clear the table after, he carried me to the couch and handed me the remote. “I’ll give you your crutches back when I’m finished with the dishes.”

“What if I have to go to the bathroom?”