Touch (Denazen #1)(31)

“For the sake of my own safety, drugging her was a necessity for transportation. It will wear off in several hours.”

I got the feeling the drugs would wear off in a few hours, but the damage Denazen had done to this little girl would never wash away. Rage burned. Had they drugged Kale, too? I could see it sometimes—that small, unmistakable hint of madness sparking behind his eyes. I remembered his words to Alex back at Roudey’s. “It hurts to be grabbed like that.”

How could I be the flesh and blood of such a monster?

“Send her over,” Dax said, twisting my arm with such force that it brought tears to my eyes. He gave me a hard shake for good measure. “And I’ll send this one over.”

“Send Deznee first.”

Dax laughed. “Of course. Because you’d never think of double-crossing me.”

“Of course not. That’s my daughter you have there. I would never risk her safety.”

LIAR, I wanted to shout, but held my tongue.

“On the count of five, they both go.” Dax compromised. Dad nodded in agreement, and Dax began to count. “1…”

I knew the whole thing was a setup but still, acid bubbled in the pit of my stomach.

“2…”

Dad’s face remained impassive. “Everything will be all right, Deznee.”

“3…”

The sound of his voice burned my ears.

“4…”

I tried to clear my mind. Brandt told me once I had an expressive face. It gave everything away. All my anger, my surprise, and, most of all, my worries about Kale had to be pushed from my mind.

“5.”

With a slight shove, Dax released my arm while at the same time Dad leaned forward and whispered something in Mona’s ear. She started walking. The distance we had to cover was short, but her steps were small, so I slowed my pace. When we crossed in the middle, she gave no acknowledgement of the situation or my presence and passed without a word.

Dad didn’t put up any appearances. He wasn’t standing on the other side with open arms welcoming me home safe. He stood rigid and expressionless, waiting in silence as though annoyed this was taking so long. Was it too much to ask for a little fake emotion? When I reached him, I turned to see Dax wrapping his arms around the little girl, who returned neither his embrace nor tears of joy.

He looked up and our eyes met. I cleared my mind, knowing he could see the truth behind my thoughts, not the words. “I’ll kill you for what you did to me,” I said quietly.

He chuckled, arms tightening around the child. “You’d have to find us first.”

I gave him a smile that was all tooth. “Trust me, I will.”

§

We rode home in silence. Dad hadn’t said anything since we’d reached the car and he told me the door was unlocked. Now, as we drove down the main drag, I had to fight the urge to grab the wheel and veer us into a tree. Dad never wore his seatbelt.

I had to say something. There’s no way he’d believe my silence, even if I did manage to pull off the trauma angle I was going to aim for.

“Were you worried about me? Even a little?”

His eyes never left the road. “Don’t be foolish. Of course I was worried.”

Silence.

“When—” I stopped myself in time—I’d almost said Kale. Using his first name definitely wouldn’t portray enough fear. “When he knocked on the door the other night, I thought it was you. That you’d left your house key at the office again.” I kept my eyes straight ahead, looking at the dashboard. “When I opened it, he surprised me and forced his way inside.”

Dad didn’t look convinced. “Why did you run off with him?”

Yeah. That would need a good explanation. Deep breath. “Seriously? I live to piss you off. I would’ve French-kissed Satan on your desk if I thought it’d irritate you. You obviously didn’t want me near him, so I left with him.”

“Then what happened?”

“He said he knew a friend of mine. We went to his house, but people showed up and tried to take him away. I didn’t know what to think, one of them attacked me, so I ran with him again. We ended up at a downtown bar. He traded me to that guy for some cash and took off.”

“So he’s gone?”

“I’ll find him. I helped him—he tricked me and then sold me to that Mr. Clean psycho.”

“Did he hurt you?” His question was empty of emotion—clinical, like inquiring about a used car for sale.

“He—” This is where I had to really ham it up. “He made threats.” I touched the side of my face where the man from Denazen had smacked me. The bruise had lightened, but was still there. “He roughed me up a little—nothing major—but the threats… The things he said he’d do if you didn’t give in to his demands… He was going to rip me apart and mail me back to you piece by piece.” At least part of it was the truth.

I squinted against a set of oncoming headlights—stupid high beams—as we turned into the driveway. Dad shut the engine off and turned to me. Time to put my bullshit skills to the test.

“I was so scared, Dad. I thought he was going to kill me.”

I’d never been a cryer. Even as a child, skinned knees, loud noises, darkened rooms, nothing ever set me off. So when I decided to turn on the waterworks for a major impact, I was worried I wouldn’t be able to pull it off.