take a shower, you should wrap it in plastic. Got it?”
Alec nods again, taking the first aid kit Felix hands him. It’s full of creams, pills, bandages, and other things I can’t get a good look at before he closes the lid.
My father walks in, followed by his executive assistant David, who’s clutching a laptop and a thick leather folder. He eyes Alec curiously just as he’s trying to awkwardly put his jacket back on. I can’t watch him struggle with his injured arm anymore, and he’ll never ask for help, so I move silently behind him and hold one side as he slides his good arm in, then drapes the other side over his shoulder.
“What’s going on?” Dad asks, narrowing his eyes at us, before his gaze zeroes in on Alec’s sling.
“We got attacked at my studio.” My voice sounds more bitter than I intend. But after what Alec told me about his suspicions that my father’s hiding something important, I can’t help but feel this is all his fault.
“Are you okay?” He gives me a onceover, then does the same for Alec. “Should you be in the hospital?”
“Yes,” I say at the same time as Alec says “No”.
My father sighs. “We need to talk.” He motions for us to follow him. “David, please take the documents back to the office, and call—” He pauses, as if realizing he’s not alone. “Everyone, as we discussed,” he finishes, censoring whatever sensitive information he was about to blurt out.
David nods curtly and hurries toward the elevator.
In his office, my father takes his place behind the big mahogany desk, while Alec and I sit in the plush chairs in front of it.
“What happened?” Dad asks.
Alec fills him in, his words precise and clipped. My father listens, hands clasped on top of the desk, shrewd gaze never leaving Alec’s.
“Did you find out who sent him?”
Alec shakes his head. “No, sir. He managed to stab me before I could question him.”
Sitting up in my chair, I bend forward, propping my elbows on my knees. “Dad, what’s going on?”
My father’s face betrays nothing; his features wiped of any expression. But a shadow passes over his blue gaze before he speaks.
“I have reason to believe this whole mess, including the attack on Dawn, is carefully orchestrated and not independent incidents.”
I blink at him, not sure what to say. He’s careful with his words, trying not to reveal more than he absolutely has to. A familiar feeling of annoyance tingles my insides.
“A lot of people had a lot to lose when the current administration took power earlier this year,” my father continues. “The Republicans needed to regroup and figure out how to regain power on a more local level, considering the catastrophic defeat they suffered in Congress.”
“I’m not sure I’m following…” I say, glancing at Alec who’s watching my father intensely, a deep crease between his brows. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“The gubernatorial election is in three months, and the candidates’ campaigns are starting to get heated. It’ll be a close race.” He pauses as if expecting us to comment, but when I glance at Alec, I see he’s just as confused as me. “Neal Calloway lost the Republican primaries to Irving Wolfe, as you know. However, he’s decided to run as an independent. And the only way he can win is with Van Dorf Group’s endorsement.”
That statement makes me sit up straight. My father’s well-known for his liberal views and has always been a proud Democrat. Something’s very wrong here. He’ll never support someone like Calloway.
“And he thinks he can get it? That’s ridiculous!” I exclaim.
My father nods, his expression still not betraying anything. “Neal Calloway is the current deputy sheriff of Staten Island. His views and policies have always been controversial. He owes a lot of people a lot of favors, and he needs to win this election so that he can start paying them back before they come knocking on his door.” For the first time since he started speaking, a shadow passes over Dad’s face. He’s quiet for a few moments as if mulling over his words. “I have it on good authority he plans to make a lot of waves if elected, including trying to relax New York’s strict gun laws.”
I gape at him. “If that’s part of his campaign, he’ll never win.”
“He’s gathered quite a following,” my father says, a sad smile tugging on his lips. “And some very wealthy donors. The Republican primaries were a very close