Custom Built (Fast & Fury #1) - Chantal Fernando Page 0,22

dad. I haven’t seen him since the barbecue, and although we spoke on the phone the other night, I know it’s not the same. I’m his only child and I need to remember that he’s not getting any younger. I should make sure I spend time with him.

I put the new Eminem album on for the drive, only turning the volume down when I pull up in his driveway. When I get to the front door, I knock a few times, but he doesn’t open up. I know he’s home, though, because his car is here.

“Dad?” I call out, knocking on his window this time, but nothing. Maybe he’s in the shower.

“Let’s see,” I murmur, reaching up to one of the potted plants that hangs on his porch. “Bingo.”

Some things never change.

Key in my hand, I unlock the door and step inside. “Dad!” I call. “Your favorite daughter is home!”

Nothing.

Thinking he must be in the bathroom, I open the fridge and scan its contents before settling on some green grapes straight out of the bag. I pop a few in my mouth and close the door with my hip before I call his name again.

Seeing his bedroom door slightly open, I push it the rest of the way and step inside, my eyes adjusting to the darkness.

“Dad?” I ask, turning the light on. My eyes go straight away to his bed.

When I see him there, unmoving, my heart stops.

He looks like he’s sleeping, only...not. I’ve seen him asleep before, but this time he’s so still. Unnaturally still.

I’ve never been more scared in my life, and I just hope and pray that he is okay.

Please let him be okay.

“Dad?” I say again, stepping toward him, moving the sheet from his neck and touching his shoulder, trying to gently shake him awake. “Dad?” My voice becomes more frantic as the reality of the situation hits me. Big, fat tears fall down my cheeks.

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. My trembling fingers reach for my phone in my jeans pocket and I call for an ambulance.

“Yes, I found my dad and he’s unresponsive,” I say quickly to the man on the line, my voice breaking, and tell him the address. “No, he’s not breathing. Please, come soon.”

I hang up and search for a pulse, but I find nothing.

No.

He’s going to be okay. He will be okay.

“Dad?” I whisper, wrapping my arm around him. What happened to him? I don’t understand. He’s a healthy man, and there are no signs of blood or a struggle, or any visible injuries. I check him over, looking for any clues, but there’s nothing. It just looks like he’s asleep. My head can’t wrap around what my eyes are seeing.

“I can’t lose you. You’re all I’ve got. Please.”

I rest my head on him, and cry, my heart breaking with every sob.

I don’t know what else to do.

The rest of the day is a blur, and all I feel is numbness. I know it’s a defense mechanism, because there’s no other way I’m going to survive this loss.

My dad was the one who got me through my mom’s death. He was there for me, sometimes just sitting with me in silence when I needed him, other times pushing me to express myself and talk to him. I don’t know how, but he just knew what I needed, and with him gone...

So is my strength.

No child should live through losing not one but both of her parents so young. I’m only twenty-four. I consider myself a strong woman, but grief...grief is something that can destroy me.

Closing my eyes, I picture his face the last time I saw him, when he came into work with a smile on his face and food for me.

I hope he knew how much I loved him. He was the best dad in the world, and there was no love like his.

The ambulance arrives, and I know what they’re going to say before they say it. The paramedics give me a look of pure sympathy, and they all tell me how sorry they are.

I know they are just being kind and doing their job, but I don’t want their sorrys.

I want the one man who loved me more than life itself back.

* * *

I place the pillow over my head to try to block out the loud banging.

Go away, I mouth, wishing whoever’s at the door would just leave me alone.

It’s been a week since I lost my dad, and a few days since they told