Red Leather (Book 2)

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

 

The house was quiet and very much empty when I finally made it home. I slinked around in the darkness, stumbling to my bedroom and finding it a mess. Clothes were littered everywhere, the window agape, and it took me a while to realise that I had done this on my way out.

Somebody cleared their throat.

Daddy didn't know what to make of me – that I was sure. And as we stood face to face in that small doorway, I could make out the lines of worry and exhaustion in his face. That wasn't all. His green eyes – usually so filled with contentment and love – were gazing at me from head to toe as if he'd never had a daughter to begin with.

"Daddy..." I started.

He took a deep breath, and something told me not to interrupt him. There was a severity there, something that I had never seen in my father before. My heart begun to beat, and fast.

Did Daddy still love me?

"Rhea Angelica Griffin." I flinched. Daddy never used my full, real name. The panic increased, steadily spreading through my bones and seeping into my skin. Surely Daddy could smell the fear radiating off of me. "Do you have any idea what it is like to receive a phone call from the Alistair Police Department-"

"Daddy, I'm sorry."

"In the middle of the night-"

"Please!"

His voice increased in volume until he was almost yelling. "Don't interrupt me! Not now. Not when my only daughter is dressed... like a tramp."

A monumental thing happen then. Something that I never thought I would do in a million years. Tears pricked at the back of my eyes, and as they forced their way down my face, I realised that they were real. My tears were genuine. My fear and panic and terror were genuine. Daddy was angry, and that thought seemed to be the only thing in the world that made me act the way I did.

I begun to sob, clutching my sides in an attempt to hide my weakness. Never would I experience this again. Never.

Daddy made no effort to comfort me this time, after so many years of hovering and making sure that I was 'safe'. He shook his head slowly, his anger making way for something else. Sorrow. "Have I done something wrong in raising you?"

I shook my head fiercely. "No!"

"Is this my fault?" He gestured to me, at my filthy appearance and slutty dress. His eyes were horrified, anguished, as if his revelation was causing as much pain to him as he was causing in me. "Poppy, what has happened to us?"

I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't take him being like this – I wanted pliant, compassionate Daddy back.  I cut through the tension in the room and launched myself in his arms, wrapping myself tightly around his torso. My makeup smudged against his work clothes, but he made no attempt to embrace me back.

Daddy, please...

"I'm sorry," I choked out, heaving and hiccupping. I was so pathetic and needy, clinging to my father like that, begging him for forgiveness. He didn't respond for a very long time, and I refused to let him go. Not until he loved me again. His chest was shaking, as if he were fighting some inner emotion, and finally, he wrapped his arms around me.

I closed my eyes.

He had finally calmed down. "It's okay," his voice cracked. His large hand soothed the hair away from my face. "We'll pay off the fines. We won't make it into a big deal. And I want you to understand that-"