“What happened?” I ask.
Dad is boiling. “Some mother…” He runs his hands through his brown hair, trying desperately to hold his tongue in front of the tender ears of his daughter, the lady.
“You can say it, Dad. This can be your freebie.”
“Some… asshole has just brought the wrath of the Lockes down on his no-good, shit-eating, shit-sucking, shit-for-brains head!” He growls so I decide it’s best to forego my applause over his creative and successive use of the word “shit” in an effort to keep from saying the F word in front of me. What a guy!
“Does this have anything to do with the threats?”
“I’m sure as shit it does.” This time I smile. He’s on a roll. Dad spots it and turns his anger on me. “Listen here, young lady, this is not a laughing matter. Someone could’ve been killed here tonight. If you’d been here, watching television in the living room…” Dad’s normally tan complexion goes pale underneath. “Oh sweet Jesus, what would I have done if you’d been shot, Sloane?”
In an almost visible way, the fury drains right out of my father, replaced by his ever-present worry over my welfare. He pulls me into his arms.
“But nothing happened, Dad. I’m fine. We’re all fine.”
He doesn’t say a word as he strokes my hair. It seems unnaturally quiet around us until the sound of an engine breaks the silence.
I turn, expecting to see Scout pulling into the driveway. Instead, I see Hemi’s car pull to a stop behind mine.
“Who the hell is that?” my father asks, every muscle in his body tensing around me.
“It’s the guy I work with, Dad. You met him that night you followed me home, remember?”
“Right. Something stupid like Homey,” he says snidely.
“It’s Hemi, Dad. Don’t be an ass.”
“Sloane,” he begins.
“Please don’t embarrass me, Dad,” I say from the corner of my mouth as he releases me and we turn to await Hemi. I would feel much more comfortable going to him rather than him coming to me (and Dad), but Dad would just follow. He’s in that kind of mood.
Hemi gets out of his car and takes the sidewalk to where Dad and I are standing. I see him look around on the ground as he walks, no doubt noticing all the brass strewn about. He’s frowning when he stops in front of us.
“Are you all right?” he asks without preamble, directing his question to me.
“I’m fine. I missed all the excitement. Scout and I were just coming home. He took off down the road. I assume he thinks he might be able to catch whoever did this.”
“What happened?” This time he looks to my father. “Hemi, sir,” he says offering his hand. “Met you a few days ago when you came to get Sloane.”
Dad pumps his hand a few times and responds in his gruff way. “I remember. As for this mess, some ass**le with a death wish decided to push his luck.” And just like that, all the anger is back. Dad starts pacing, cursing under his breath. “And where the hell is your brother? He should’ve been back by now.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask Hemi since Dad’s off on another rant.
“You left your phone at the shop. I figured you’d need it.”
He hands me my phone, his fingers lingering over mine before he lets it go. “Seriously, are you okay?”
I smile. “I’m fine. Actually, I feel kinda sorry for the guys who did this. They really have no idea what kind of shit storm they just brought down on their heads.”
“Sloane, this isn’t funny. It’s very serious. What if you’d been here? What if you’d been five minutes earlier coming home?”
I can see both worry and irritation in his eyes. “But I wasn’t.”
“But you could’ve been,” he argues.
“See, Sloane?” Dad gripes from behind me. “Even Homey has a better head on his shoulders.”
My face burns like a thousand flames and I squeeze my eyes shut. But Hemi laughs. “Thank you, sir,” he replies lightly before turning back to me. “Maybe you should come and stay with me tonight.”
I’m both astonished and impressed that he would suggest such a thing in front of my father. Dad stomps back to us, not stopping until he’s nearly chest to chest with Hemi. My stomach flutters with pride and pleasure when Hemi doesn’t retreat. Not one inch.
“Just what the hell are you up to, young man?”
Hemi remains completely unflustered in the face of my father’s fury, replying calmly, “Offering her a safe place to stay, sir. My spare bedroom. I’m not convinced this is the best place for her right now.”
“I don’t give a shit what you’re convinced of, son, she’s my daughter and I’ll see to her safety like I have for the last twenty years.”
“Twenty-one,” I pipe up automatically.
Dad grunts and I see Hemi’s lips twitch as he suppresses a grin.
“I’m not saying you can’t keep her safe. I’m just saying that a situation like this is hard for anyone to control. She’s not being targeted, but she’s obviously in danger. And even if she were the focus, no one would think to look for her at my place. It’s just a precaution. I’m just thinking about what’s best for Sloane. Nothing more.”
“And when did you become so interested in my daughter’s welfare?”
Hemi answers coolly, “Would you rather I not care?”
“Of course not, but I’m not handing her off to be taken advantage of by some—”
“All due respect, sir, but Sloane is old enough to make her own decisions. Maybe you should be asking her what she’d prefer to do.”
“Right now, I’m not interested in your opinion or what you think I should be doing. I’m doing what’s best for my daughter. Like I always do.”
“Sir, I’m not arguing that. I’m just—”
“The hell you’re not! You’re standing on my lawn telling me what to do about my daughter’s safety.”
“I’m after the same thing you are—keeping Sloane safe. And I think this—”
“I don’t give a damn what you think!”
“Then give a damn about what Sloane thinks!” Hemi fires back.
“Listen here, you little shit, my daughter will do what I say because I’ve protected her for the last twenty years!”