Sharp Practice

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: The Past Should Stay Dead

Copyright © 2013 All Rights Reserved

Sharp Practice by Sierra B

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“It’s getting late, maybe we should call her,” Ianna says looking at the watch her mother had given her before she died all those years ago. She was pacing back and forth in her husband’s study while he sat at his desk on his laptop.

“If we were going to call her we should have when the school called, there’s no point now,” Quentan grunts going over the email in his inbox again.

“What do you mean there’s no point? We need to know whether or not Rhylee is safe and where she’s been for the past seven hours; that’s the point!” Ianna growls at him.

“She’ll turn up Ianna; right now we have more important things to worry about.”

“Nothing is more important than our daughter, Quen!” Ianna cries slamming Quentan’s laptop down causing him to groan.

He pinches the bridge of his nose before he sighs and stands up looking down at his wife. “Ianna we really don’t have time for this now.”

“Well Quentan I guess we’re just gonna hafta make time.”

“Ianna please-”

“You said after erasing her memory that avoiding her would give us time to come up with a plan,” she grunts cutting him off. “There still is no plan and it’s been what… a month? And while we’ve been out formulating this still not done plan, Rhylee’s been staying out later and later, spending less time at home, beating up girls at school, oh and don’t forget setting fire to cardboard pop ups in peoples lawns! How long do you think it’s gonna take her to realize she’s a mimic… again? Huh, Quen? My guess is not very fucking long!” Ianna cries slamming her palm onto the desk.

Quentan pinches his nose again trying to remain calm as he forces as much tartness as he can out of his words. “Ianna I’m trying my best. Annabel says he’s gonna be here any day, any day, that can be Thursday or fifteen minutes from now.” Quentan looks at his wife who wore (in his opinion) an accusatory look on her face, like she blamed everything on him. Quentan’s self-control slips and he growls, “You were the one who said you didn’t want to just pack up and move, you were the one who said you didn’t want to give Rhylee a reason to worry, and you were the one who said that you were willing to do anything to keep our family safe! That means taking a step back from parenting to make sure that our daughter doesn’t end up as a pawn for Him!”

“’Taking a step back from parenting’? Quentan do you here yourself? It’s like last year all over again.”

“This is nothing like last year!” Quentan barks slamming his fist on the desk causing Ianna to jump. “He is not some seventeen year old punk that had no business being with Rhylee in the first place. He is a psychotic would-be dictator who can and will hurt Rhylee in more ways than that boy can even imagine. He will take her, experiment on her, and when he is done with her he will throw her away or worse he’ll brainwash her and bring her into his cult where he will preach his insane gospel and make her a zombie. This situation is not like last year’s; this is way, way worse.”

“You’re right,” Ianna sighs looking down at the ground with no further arguments.

Quentan sighs as well and walks around his desk before pulling his wife into a hug. “Ianna I love you and Rhylee and I would do anything to make sure that you two were safe,” he says into her auburn hair.