Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
“I don’t know if I can,” I admitted. “Anyway, it’s not just my decision. I’m a guest here myself. I can’t risk displeasing anyone here.”
“Then ask your friends,” he pressed. “Surely they’d understand the importance of family reconciliation. Unless…” his voice cooled slightly, “unless you’re ashamed of me. Is that it, Elvira? Are you too embarrassed to tell them who your father is?”
“That’s not it,” I protested, though part of me knew it was. The thought of explaining to Chains, to Knuckles and the others, who my father was and what he’d done made my stomach churn.
“Then what’s the problem? After all this time, all I’m asking for is a chance and a place to stay. As your father. Is that really too much? If they’re truly your friends, they’ll give you this.”
The crunch of leaves behind me made me turn. Chains stood there, a beer in one hand and a steaming mug of cider in the other. His face darkened as he looked at me. He set the drinks down on the bench and moved toward me.
“I’m sorry, Chains.” I looked up at Chains, pleading with him not to leave again.
“Elvira? Who are you talking to?” Obviously, my father heard me and was going to use the opportunity to make the request of a place to stay himself. “Are you still there?” Tate’s voice grew impatient. “I need an answer, Elvira. I have nowhere else to go. No one else to turn to. Will you help me, or have you truly turned your back on your family completely?”
More tears slipped down my face as I closed my eyes. Chains step closer, his solid presence a counterweight to the manipulation flowing through the phone.
“I’ll need to talk to my friends,” I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll call you back.”
“Don’t take too long,” my father replied, his tone softening again. “I love you, my little witch. Never doubt that.”
I ended the call without responding, the phone slipping from my numb fingers. Before it could hit the ground, Chains caught it, then caught me as my knees threatened to buckle. His arms came around me, strong and steady, as the full impact of my father’s return crashed over me like a wave.
“He wants to stay here,” I said into Chains’ chest, my voice muffled by his leather cut. “He’s out of prison and he wants to stay here with me.”
Chains’ arms tightened around me, his heart beating steadily against my ear. He said nothing, but the tension in his body spoke volumes. The peaceful garden seemed to hold its breath around us as the implications of my father’s return settled like frost on the autumn leaves.
“Maybe you better tell me about your dad’s past, honey. Give me an idea of what’s goin’ on so I know what to tell Knuckles.”
“I don’t want to cause any more trouble than I already have.”
“Look, honey. None of this shit with your dad is on you. Okay? Whatever he did to land in prison is on him. Every man in Kiss of Death has literally been in his shoes. Every one of us did time. It’s how most of us got here in the first place. Because Knuckles banded us together. So if that’s what you’re worried about, don’t be.”
“It’s not that.” I winced. “Well, not only that. My dad being in prison is one thing. I get good people do bad things sometimes. But there’s a line, Chains. My dad crossed it and, even though I feel guilty for not welcoming him with open arms, I spent the entirety of my childhood after he went away living under the stigma of what he did. And I was barely ten years old and had no idea what the charges against him even meant, let alone knew what he was doing.”
“Okay. Start at the beginning. You tell me, then we figure out together what you want Knuckles to know. After that, if Knuckles needs to know more, you can work something out with him. I’ll be with you every step of the way. You get me?” A breeze rustled through the garden, sending leaves skittering across the ground. One landed on my shoe, fiery red against the black leather.
I took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. But this all ties together, ironically. As hard as I tried to get away from what my dad did, I also tried my best to cling to the memory of my grandma and grandpa.”
Chains reached out and brushed a tear from my cheek before leaning in to brush a kiss over the other cheek, gathering the lingering moisture on his lips. “Take your time, honey. But let’s do this now, so we don’t have this hanging over us.”
I nodded and took one more deep breath before giving him a tremulous smile and beginning. “You know I love Halloween. The decorations, the baking, all of it.” He nodded, waiting. “What I never told anyone is why.” I swallowed hard. “Halloween wasn’t always my favorite holiday. For a long time, I hated it. Couldn’t even look at a pumpkin without feeling sick.” Chains remained silent, but I felt his attention like a physical thing, steady and unwavering. “When I was ten, on Halloween night, the FBI raided our house. They arrested my father in the middle of our neighborhood Halloween party. All my friends were there, their parents, too.” The memory was so vivid I could still hear the shouts, see the flashing lights illuminating the night in an eerie strobe. “They took him away in handcuffs while I stood there in my witch costume, holding a plastic cauldron full of candy.”