crackles in my ear. I feel like throwing the phone across the room. “Are you there?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Speak up, girl!”
“I’m here.”
“Good.” He sighs, sounding almost relieved. It makes me feel sick. “Good, I’m glad. I’ve been worried about you, running off like that. What were you thinking, girl? Didn’t I teach you better than that? You know there are bad men in this city, men who want to hurt you.”
Like you, I want to say. But for some reason, I don’t.
It’s worse when Dad is like this, almost nice. But he’s crazy, and it’s only a matter of time before he flips. I have to remember that. They’ve never been diagnosed, but both Dad and Benjy have some sort of mental illness. I’m sure of it.
“Colleen?” he grunts. “Are you still there?”
“Yes,” I say.
“I want you to know something, sweet. I’m sorry for the way I treated you growing up. I think I was just scared, y’know, because I loved your mother so much and the thought of losing you, oh God, just thinking about it tears me up. You didn’t deserve what I did to you. But it was always to trying make you into the sort of woman who would be safe. I just wanted to keep you safe. I love you.” A pause. I fight the urge to cry. He’s lying, but family’s family, and no matter what the pull to believe him is strong. But then he says, “Where are you, sweet? Where have they got my precious daughter?”
Of course. This is what he wants.
“Did you attack me at the rec center?”
“Colleen—”
“Did. You. Attack. Me. At. The. Rec. Center?”
“I never should’ve tried to marry you to that awful cartel bastard,” he says, but I can hear a tremble in his voice. “That was wrong of me, so wrong. You deserved so much better.”
I’m on my feet, gripping the edge of the mirror. I’m wide-eyed, my cheeks flaming red, spit clinging to my lips. I look how I feel. Livid. “I’m in love with him,” I say. Because I know it will hurt Dad. But also because, maybe it’s true. “Carlo loves me, too. He’s the best man I’ve ever met.”
There’s a long, long pause. I won’t let myself speak first. Let my words have their effect on him.
Finally, he lets out a sigh. “I wish you were never born,” he says matter-of-factly. Somehow, that’s worse. Like he’s describing the weather. “And yes, my men were at the rec center for you. We saw you scurry away like a rat.”
He draws in a slow, rattling breath and continues. “Do you want to know something? The day after you killed your mother, I visited you in the hospital. But not to say hello, or whatever other fathers do with their newborn daughters. No. See, I had this plan. I was going to clamp my hand over your mouth and pinch your nose until you stopped squirming. But there was this social services bitch sniffing around, and by the time I could’ve gotten away with it, Benny’d taken a liking to you for some reason.”
My jaw is hanging open, but no words are coming out.
“I needed Benny focused, so I let you live. You know how sensitive that boy can be sometimes.”
“He’s killed children,” I whisper, remembering what Carlo said. I’m blinking back tears.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Dad says in amazement. “If what you’ve said to me is true—if you’re in love with this Italian fuck—I’m going to have to torture you before I kill you. On principle. You understand, of course. An example must be made.”
What does that have to do with anything? I can’t blink the tears back anymore. There are too many. I feel weak. I wish I could hit something.
“And you better hope he hasn’t got a baby in you. Because, if he has, I’ll get rid of it myself, Colleen. I won’t have no half breed for a grandchild.”
I wipe the tears from my cheeks and straighten my shoulders. I tell myself I’m strong. And then I say what I’ve never said to my father, what I’ve always dreamed of saying: “I want you to know that I hate you. It would be better for the world if you were dead. You would not be missed. Not even by your own daughter.”
I hang up and slump on the toilet seat. Grabbing some tissue paper, I wipe my face clean. I wipe until my cheeks are stinging and dry and then