Part 2 (2/2)
Dad. She called him dad. What the f.u.c.k?”
”This man?” I say, smirking. ”Dad. Really.”
”Hawk?” he says, feigning confusion, then surprise.
Sometimes I think I might be crazy. It's like I'm the only one who sees it. His expressions look natural unless you pay a little too much attention. His eyes are dead, lifeless, like a shark's eyes. Two green b.u.t.tons without an ounce of empathy or feeling, seeing through you.
”Why aren't you wearing a s.h.i.+rt?”
”Because it's ninety-five f.u.c.king degrees outside.”
No reaction. He just stares at me with that same fraudulent smile, but his head c.o.c.ks to the side a little, like he's studying a prey animal.
”What are you doing here?”
My smile broadens, but there's no joy in it. I'm baring my teeth at him. ”I live here.”
”Not anymore.”
”Well, that's the thing about joining the military, Dad. Eventually they let you out. Maybe if you'd tried it sometime you'd know that.”
Nothing. He just stares. I make a broad gesture behind me.
”Mayor, huh? Moving up in the world, I see.”
”You should leave,” he says, finally.
”Why? Is there a dress code?”
He glances over to his side and nods.
”Yes,” a new voice says, ”As a matter of fact there is.”
I snap around quickly and find myself staring down a Paradise Falls cop. It takes me a second, because of the uniform and the mirrored aviator shades, and then it hits me.
”Lance?”
”'Officer' he corrects.”
I read his name tag. Yeah, it's him. He doesn't look all that different than when I left- he's still lanky and skinny like he was when he was sixteen, except now somebody went and made a cop out of my younger brother. He rests his hands on his duty belt, hooking his thumbs under the leather, and one is a little close to the Glock on his hip. He probably does that a lot.
I give him a smile that says, in nonverbal form, if he pulls that piece I'm going to have it up his a.s.s before he can get his finger on the trigger.
”Been a long time, brother.”
”Go get a s.h.i.+rt,” he says, his voice trembling just a touch.
I smirk, and he frowns. I noticed and he knows I noticed.
”So you're a cop.”
”Yeah.”
”Makes me wonder what a.s.shole would trust you with a gun.”
HIs hand jerks to his sidearm and closes around the grip.
”Lance,” my father says, in a warning tone. ”Escort Hawk off the street. He's not to come back.”
I look up at the signs over my head. ”Are you mayor already? Who the f.u.c.k died and put you in charge?”
Alex lets out a little squeak.
The area around the hot dog carts has cleared. It's just us, now. Alexis takes May by the arm and leads her off, looking at me the whole time, worry etched on her features. May looks a little sh.e.l.l-shocked.
”Go,” my father says, ”Now.”
”All right,” I say.
Honestly I'd rather not jam a gun up my brother's a.s.s right now. It could turn ugly.
Or I could just turn around and snap the f.u.c.ker's neck before they stop me. Lance would still be standing there with his head up his a.s.s while my father flops around on the ground. I could just do it now.
For what he did, he deserves worse than that. More than that.
Then there's Alexis.
Not in front of her. Not in front of May. I won't burden them with that.
I turn and walk and, of course, Lance follows. He's not holding his piece anymore but he's got his hand right there, awkwardly stiff as he walks behind me swinging the other arm.
”Tattoos,” he says.
”Yeah.”
”They must have hurt.”
”Yeah.”
”Where you been, anyway?”
”Navy.”
I have to remind myself that Lance doesn't know. I don't like him, I never did, but he doesn't know what my father did. I imagine if I told him now he'd laugh it off or call me nuts.
”You picked a h.e.l.l of a time to come back. Dad's going to be mayor.”
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