Almost Midnight (Shadow Falls: After Dark #3.5)(79)

Miranda swiped the tears from her face. “Well, you failed. Failed miserably. This, the lies, the secrets, it hurts.”

“I can see that, and don’t for one minute think it isn’t killing me. I want to fix it. That’s what I’m here to do. You both are such neat people. I’m so proud of both of you. This afternoon after the practice, we are all getting together. I know it’s hard and I regret not doing it earlier, but I want you and Tabitha to get along, to love each other.”

“She hates me.” Then Miranda realized something else. “Did she know this whole time? Did you tell Tabitha and not me?”

“No. A few years ago, she overheard her mother and me arguing. She figured it out. Like you, she’s pretty disappointed in me. You two are my world. My reason for living. I want to fix this.”

She looked at the man whom she’d loved all her life. Her first hero, the man who called her “angel.” The patient father who’d taught her to ride a bike, to tie her shoelaces. He’d even taught her her first spell. Every pore and cell in her body loved this man, and yet it hurt so badly she wished she didn’t.

Wished she didn’t love him this much.

She swallowed and lifted her chin. Without trying to hide her hurt, she told him what she’d told Perry.

“I’m not completely certain you can fix this.” And damn, it hurt to say that.

*

“Do you feel anything?” Burnett asked Miranda as he walked into her dressing room a few minutes before practice. The competition and practice were being held in an old auditorium that had once been a library—complete with gargoyles. Like everything in Paris, it felt old. It was old. Kind of gave her the creeps.

“Miranda?” Burnett said her name.

Oh, yeah … Did she feel anything? Hell yeah. Emotions did jumping jacks in her gut. After her dad had left, Kylie and Della had come and let her cry on their shoulders. If not for them, she was pretty sure she’d still be facedown in her bed wallowing in self-pity. As it was, her eyes were puffy from crying. She dreaded the meeting that was going to take place after the practice. Dreaded it with a passion. And part of that dread was facing her mom. She didn’t know why, but she knew it was going to hurt.

Perhaps her mom felt the same thing. It would explain why she hadn’t already visited Miranda.

“Do you feel anything?” he repeated, as if impatient that she hadn’t instantly replied.

The answer echoed back. She felt as if her heart had been used as a pit bull’s play toy. Then someone had found the damaged organ and stuck it back in her chest, but it wasn’t working.

Not that Burnett wanted to know this. He was concerned about whoever it was trying to knock off the competition. He wanted to know if she felt any doom and gloom premonitions.

“No, not yet.”

“Do you have your cell with you?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Good. Take it with you. If you feel anything, anything at all, call me, right then. I don’t care if you’re in the middle of practice and have to piss off one of those prima donna highfalutin witches out there. You call me. Got it?”

Miranda couldn’t help but wonder if he’d told Tabitha the same thing. Probably. Thankfully, Tabitha had already left the apartment when her dad … correction … their dad … had shown up. Facing her was going to be as hard as facing her mom. Hadn’t she called Tabitha a liar last night?

Burnett started to walk out and then turned. She looked up at him. His scowl faded. “You okay?”

She nodded.

He swung back to the door, but darted back around with vampire speed. “I have a feeling if Holiday were here, she’d give you a comforting hug. She’d probably be able to know exactly why you look so sad. Maybe you’d even confide in her. I’m not nearly as good at the counseling sh—stuff as she is. As a matter of fact, I kind of suck at it. But if you need to talk, I can listen. I have a few minutes now.”

As tempting as it was, she was afraid if she talked she’d start crying again. She shook her head.

He looked almost relieved, and turned around.

A small hiccup of emotion left her throat. He looked back again. His expression was uncertain and almost painful. “You need a hug?”

She ran into his arms like a scared child. Hugging wasn’t Burnett’s favorite pastime, and the fact that he’d offered meant the world. As tough and hard as this man could be, he cared. Cared deeply. Holiday and his daughter, Hannah, were two very lucky ladies.

He patted Miranda on the back. The slow tapping of his right hand felt awkward. His posture tense. Sensing he was uncomfortable, she pulled back.

He studied her. “Did that help?”

“Yes.” She smiled with emotion.

He nodded. “Is this about Perry and—?”

“No.”

He tilted his head to the side and frowned as if he’d heard the lie.

“Okay, maybe a little. But it’s only part of it.” But since he’d brought the subject up, she asked. “Is Perry here?” He had told Miranda he was coming, but less than a month ago he’d told her he would never walk away. And he had.

Her ability to trust him had been damaged. Maybe the shape-shifter had changed his mind again.

“Yes, he’s here. I don’t think I could have kept him away.”