Secrets | Watty Awards Winner 2013

Chapter 2

"Do you remember anything about those people who shot at you?" Detective Monroe's thick eyebrows are knitted together as he frowns at me. His pockmarked face is puckered into a frown. His skin is lined with scars and his nose is crooked from being broken one time too many. His expression is sour, bordering on fierce. I suspect that he's seen too much shit go down in this world to ever see it in a positive light again.

"No," I say as the paramedic finishes patching up a cut on my forehead. She gives me a warm smile and I notice that her brown eyes have flakes of gold in them. "I wish I could be of more help, Detective."

The paramedic walks away and my eyes follow her back to the ambulance.

"Are you absolutely certain that you remember nothing else?" Detective Monroe presses. His tone forces me to drag my attention back to him. He's one matchstick away from outrightly calling me a liar. He takes a step closer so that his large build towers over me. Almost a second later, the stench of old sweat, cigarette smoke and coffee hits me like a brick wall. I curl my lip, revolted by the detective's smell and attitude.

"Look, Detective, my daughter has been through a lot. She's already given you a full description of their car. What more do you want from her? She's clearly shaken up." My father wraps a protective arm around my shoulders and I let myself sink against him. I don't really need his support, but it feels nice to be so close to him again. It hasn't been like that since mum died. Her death brought a great gulf between us that we are only just beginning to breach.

"Alright," Detective Monroe says, flipping his notebook shut. He eyes me carefully before saying, "If that's all she's going to say, I better be going."

His tall figure strides away. I watch him get into his car. Dad squeezes my shoulder gently.

"Let's get back home, sweetheart," he says. I'm barely listening as I watch Detective Monroe get into his car. He lights up a cigarette almost immediately, puffing smoke out the window. I look away from him after that. I've seen enough tough guy acts to know that he's just a frustrated cop who's taking out his issues on me.

"Ari," dad calls my name a little louder. He takes my arm gently and I let him lead me back to our car. Walter, our chauffeur, is already standing at attention and opens the door to let us in. He gives me a worried smile as I pass him. I smile back, willing it to reach my eyes. I don't need the added burden of Walter worrying about me on my shoulders. It's tough enough as it is.

Walter takes the bait and after some polite conversation in the car on the way home, seems convinced that I'm fine- or as fine as I'm ever going to get.

Going upstairs, I take a shower, relishing the feeling of the hot water cascading down my back. The events of this morning have rattled me. I certainly did not expect them to come after me so fast. After all, why would they want to kill me now? Why didn't they just kill me earlier when they had me under their control? It'd be all I couldn't think about. I'd craved it. Death, I mean. It had seemed like the best solution at that time, presumbly so much better than the hell they put me through.

Changing into a fresh set of clothes, I walk downstairs into dad's den. He'd said earlier that he wanted to see me after I'd freshened up.

When I enter, I see dad sitting on the couch with another person I don't recognise. They both look up when they hear me and I stop dead in my tracks.

"Ariel, I would like you to meet Will," dad says, gesturing to the young man next to him. My eyes roam over Will, taking in his tall, lean frame and tanned skin. His hair is brown, the colour of dark chocolate. His cheekbones are prominent on his face, lending his face shadows and angles that people find attractive. His eyes are grey-blue, framed by eyelashes that are so long that they look almost unreal.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Will covers the ground between us in two long strides. He holds out his hand for me to shake but I don't take it. He drops his hand and stands a little straighter. I turn my gaze on my father, my body taught with tension.

My dad swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, but he returns my glare steadily.

"Will is here as your personal bodyguard. After you and Micah were taken away and after this morning's events... Well, I need to feel like you're being taken care of," dad says. My heart drops into the pit of my stomach.

"I don't want a bodyguard," I say. My voice doesn't waver, something I'm grateful for. Showing any signs of weakness is despicable, even if it's just to family.

"I don't care whether you want him or not," dad says. "He's going to protect you and that's final. I can't let anything happen to you. I love you too much."

The slight tremor in my father's words forces me to look away.

Selfish.

The word turns itself again and again inside my head. That's what I am. Selfish.

"Okay dad," I say finally. "For you. If it makes you feel better, I'll allow it." I turn to Will and say, "Welcome to Brownstone Manor." The words taste my poison in my mouth.

He nods. It's a slight movement that is barely noticeable. A ghost of a smile passes over his lips but it's so small that I think I imagined it.

I shake my head. I'm getting distracted. It's probably the eyes. I've never met anyone with eyes quite as piercing as his.

"I've vacated the room next to yours for Will. He will be by your side wherever you go and whatever you do. I don't want you ever by yourself," dad says.

"C'mon, dad, don't you think that's a little too far? Surely I don't need to have a shadow with me 24/7. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

My father nods soberly, a frown twisting down the corners of his mouth. "Don't fight me on this, Ariel. I'm doing this for your own protection and safety. I can't lose you again."

"Dad, I understand your concern, but this is ridiculous. I can take care of myself. You just need to trust me a little." I soften my tone. Maybe the gentle approach will work.

I sneak a glance at the bodyguard again, but his presence irritates me. I can't have someone following me everywhere- not when I'm not even sure what is at stake yet. He'll just be another weight- dead weight.

"Ariel, it's already been decided. I discussed it with your mother-"

"My mother is dead," I interrupt coldly. Whatever friendly or gentle approach I'd had before dissipates in a moment. The blood drains from my cheeks and I can't stop the trembling in my hands. I suddenly feel the ludicrous urge to burst into tears.

"Ari..." dad says. He steps towards me but I back away until my back is against the wall.

It's always Ariel at any other moment but the moment he wants to appease me, he switches back to my pet name, Ari. It makes me sick.

"That blonde-haired excuse of a wife you have now is not my mother," I say, my voice shaking. It's so tight that it's higher-pitched than normal. "My mother died a long time ago."

Dad starts to say something but I storm out of the room, shoving past Will and running up the stairs.

*****

So do you guys like Will? Personally, I kind of do...