Don't Look Back(96)

“I panicked!” he roared, his fingers digging into my shoulders. “I thought you were dead, too. And I just panicked!”

I tried to shake off his grasp. His touch made my skin crawl. He was my father—flesh and blood, but he’d left me in a panic. “There wasn’t a single moment afterward that you didn’t consider calling the police? Not once while I was missing?”

He looked me straight in the eye. “I took your phone, and I couldn’t...”

“You...” It hit me then, and I cried out. It wasn’t that he couldn’t call the police after the panic had subsided. It was that he wouldn’t. The deeds had already been done, and the risk had been too great. The truth of his affair would have come out, and he would’ve lost everything—and been charged with Cassie’s accidental death.

Money was more important to him. A relationship with his own daughter hadn’t been enough, and neither had been my life.

“I’m going to be sick,” I whispered.

Dad fingers loosened. “I’m so sorry.”

A tiny part of me believed him, because I could hear it in his voice. “What did you think when they found me?”

Lowering his gaze, he didn’t answer.

My body shook as another sob rolled its way through me. “What would you’ve done if I’d remembered then?” I gasped, trying to shake his hands off. “What are you going to do?”

“I hoped you wouldn’t remember, but then you started poking around, writing those notes, trying to figure out what happened.” He looked so disappointed, as if I’d failed him somehow. “The day you went to the cliff, I followed you.”

Competing levels of horror and fury battled inside me. My hands formed tight fists. “I thought I was crazy! And you just let me believe that.”

“I couldn’t tell you the truth. You have to understand that.” Dad shook his head. “I wasn’t in the car, baby. You had a panic attack or something, but I found the note and I did call the accident in.”

Like that made it better, redeemed him somehow. He’d accidentally killed Cassie and then left me to die ... all so he could keep up his pathetic lifestyle.

He cupped my cheek, and revulsion twisted my insides. “You’re my baby girl, my princess.”

Cassie had been his baby girl, too, and that had meant nothing to him. Movement flickered behind him. Over his shoulder, I caught a glimpse of the door inching open. A long, thin shadow spread across the floor. My breath caught as a denimclad leg appeared, and then long, tanned fingers gripped the door.

Carson. I focused on my father, swallowing hard. “Why did you give her the same music box if you didn’t want her to know?”

Caught off guard by the question, he blinked. “It was so long ago when I gave it to Cate.” A faint smile parted his lips. “I had the boxes made in Philly. They’re unique. It was a stupid, sentimental thing to do.” He laughed then, the sound broken and harsh. “How was I to know that you two would be friends one day? Cate left town. I never thought she’d be back. Those boxes...”

Moving silently behind us, Carson squeezed in between the door and my wall. His eyes were fixed on us, and I had no idea what he was planning. I wanted him to run because I knew my dad owned pistols. He could have one on him now.

If Carson got hurt in all this...

“I’m so sorry.” Dad’s hand moved from my cheek to my neck. “I never meant for any of this to happen.”

Another shudder rocked me. “Please, don’t—”

Carson stepped on a piece of glass. The crunch sounded like a shotgun blast. Dad whipped around, and everything happened so fast. I jumped up as Carson rushed forward, as if he was going to tackle my father, but Dad—he moved so quickly. Like lightning, really. He swiped something off the floor and met Carson.

There was a pain-filled yelp, and Carson staggered back. Blood spurted from his left shoulder as he hit the wall. A scream rose in my throat, spilling over. Dad yanked the piece of glass out of Carson and reared his arm back.

I didn’t even think.

Rushing forward, I grabbed the heavy base of the broken music box, and with another scream that rose from a deep place within me, I brought it down on the back of my father’s head.

The bloodied piece of glass fell from my father’s hand as his legs buckled out from underneath him. He folded like a paper sack.

I stepped back, clutching the music box. “Dad?” I whispered.

He didn’t move.

Had I ... killed him? I edged around his body, reaching Carson. “Are you okay?”

Face pale and contorted, he nodded as he pressed his hand against the wound. “It’s not deep. Thought ... I was going to rescue you.” He gave a dry, shocked laugh. “Holy crap, Sam, holy crap...”

I dropped the box on the floor and placed my hand over his. Blood seeped through his fingers, causing my stomach to roll. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Stop.” He grasped my other hand as he pushed off the wall, pulling me toward the door. “None of this is your fault. We need to call the police, but let’s ... get out of here first.”

Together, we rushed from the room and down the hall. My eyes were fastened to him the whole way. The wound didn’t seem too bad, but the blood kept making its way down his gray shirt. Dad had been aiming for his throat, but Carson’s reflexes had saved him. And he’d most likely saved me by showing up. I’d gladly spend the rest of my life thanking him.