“I was just going out for a little bit. I didn’t think I needed permission.”
“Come on home, Killian, or I will ruin your life.”
“You already have,” I say.
He chuckles to himself. “Oh, Killian. If you think I’ve ruined your life… then I might need to just show you what ruining your life really entails. This kind officer will bring you home. Now let me have a word with him.”
As he does, the officer gets off me, letting me get to my feet. He starts directing me out of the station as people turn to watch. Do they think he’s arresting me? It would be better if he were. It would be better than all of this.
But instead, I get into the passenger seat of his car and as he talks at me, I never reply. I never answer or even acknowledge this man who’s just a pawn in ruining my life. He doesn’t know me, yet he felt like it was his right to do this to me. My stomach is twisting into a knot, but I refuse to fixate on it. I refuse to let it get to me; instead, I just push it down like any other day, prepared to face the world.
When he pulls up to the house, I get out and walk through the front door to where my father is waiting.
“Go to your room.”
I do without hesitation, but I don’t get the luxury of seclusion for long before my father pushes the door open and lets himself in.
“Where the fuck did you think you were going?”
“Just let me leave. I want nothing to do with this place! If you’re afraid I’ll tell someone, I’ll be so fucking far away no one will even care!”
“It’s not that I’m afraid you’ll tell someone, Killian. It’s that you belong to me, so you should do as you’re told. Do you not understand that?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Don’t make me look like a fool and a liar. I now have to pay him off to keep his mouth shut. Don’t do it again.”
I shake my head. “I won’t.”
“Good because next time won’t be like this time.”
Nineteen
It’s been a week since we came here, and the days go pretty much the same. In the morning, Shepherd is tasked with the impossible job of teaching me to shoot while he says things like “Do your eyes work?” or “You realize the bullet is supposed to hit the can, right?” or “Did you think you were supposed to hit everything but the can?” and my favorite, “You fucking suck at this, you know that?”
Then we try out some hand-to-hand stuff which we’re currently working on.
“Why are you lying on the ground? What’s that move called?” Shepherd asks.
“The fetal position.”
“Yeah, well, it just makes me want to kick you,” he says as he gently kicks my ass. “Get up.”
“Shepherd, we’ve been over this—you say I suck. I say I agree. I’m not a fighter.” I slowly get up to face him as he assesses me.
“You have to be good at something.”
“Yeah, like… normal people stuff. Math, science. I graduated with a 4.0 GPA—”
Shepherd does not look impressed. “That’s just stupid. What are you going to do? Beat people with your GPA? ‘You cannot hurt me with your gun for I have the power of GPA on my side!’” Shepherd calls out to some invisible attacker.
I fold my arms over my chest and have a spectacular glare going on by the time he turns to look at me. “That wasn’t funny.”
He’s grinning at me already. “It was a little bit.” He walks up to me and grabs my shoulders before giving me a shake. “I just need you to be good at something to save yourself.”
“I can run fast.”
“You can run fast. Alright, we’re going to start running together every day, and I’m going to get you a shotgun. I mean, you have to hit something with a shotgun, right?”
“The issue is that you’re trying to teach me on these little tiny cans and then get frustrated when I can’t hit them!” I remind him.
“At least you know a little hand-to-hand and can retain some of the things I showed you.”
“My body feels worse than when I was in Tony’s care. I feel like I have to be learning something,” I say.
“We’re going to need groceries, and Dave, the cabin owner, said he’ll drive us into town. So let’s jog to his place, see if he can run us in and