Chasing Miss Conner •NEW VERSION•

XXVII

Twenty Seven

"What are you doing here, dad?" I crossed my arms, sinking into the cushions of the chair, glaring at the man across from me. If you could even call him that, he looked awful. A fact that actually brought me a sick sense of satisfaction. I hadn't seen my dad in close to a decade, and frankly, I'd be just fine if I never saw him again. Sure, in the beginning my parents shared custody and my dad and I actually got along okay, but that all changed when he started drinking again. I stared at his mop of dirty brown hair, unwilling to clash with a gaze that was entirely too identical to my own. He looked liked he'd just up and left the shop, wearing his dirty oil-stained jeans and Carhart jacket.

The presence of Mr. Michael and the burly police officer hadn't gone unnoticed either, their looming shadows caused knots of anxiety to build in my chest. My father looked up, prodding me to meet his washed out gaze. He reached for his pocket, producing what looked like a crumpled picture. There was a note scrawled on the back, the looping script sending a shiver down my spine.

"Seem's your daughter is quite cozy with her new teacher." There was no indicator of who sent it, but I knew.

"I've already showed this picture to your principle, care to tell me what you were doing in your English teacher's car, and how or why it was sent to me?" The anxiety in my chest ballooned at his gravely words, but a sigh of relief escaped me as he turned the crumpled picture towards me. It was shitty quality, but it was clearly from one of my first days at school, specifically a day that I'd had no transportation home. You could clearly see my profile, my head tipped back, an expression of laughter painted across my features. As well as Miss Conner, her hands on the wheel and a barely-there smile on her lips.

I turned, catching Mr. Michael's gaze, raising a brow. "Why didn't you tell him that you'd ok'd Miss Conner to drive me home that day? I explained that my mother is a neurosurgeon and I had forgotten that she was in surgery-," he cut me off, and I had to work hard to not let the annoyance show.

"Yes, Shay you're not in any trouble." He assured me, turning to my father. "Mr. Daniel's, we aren't concerned with the nature of this photo. I indeed okayed this, and your daughter assured me it was a one-time thing. I know she now drives a motorcycle, and is always on time to class. I called Officer Johnson in here because we believe Shay is being stalked by a fellow student who just recently had dropped out and is in a suspect in an on-going, brutal, sexual assault case."

Johnson stepped forward then, his rugged features pinched into an expression of severity that did nothing to reassure me, despite the relief I felt that this wasn't about Juliette and I or the fact that she wouldn't be leaving here in handcuffs. My chest squeezed in pain, as I came to the mind-altering conclusion of just how bad this really was. Mr. Michael had just openly confirmed what Caleb has done, and the deadly threat he was to me, my family, and my friends.

This definitely changes things. To what caliber, I didn't know.

My father's expression was bewildered as he looked between the officer and I, his mouth slack-jawed as he struggled to come up with a response. "W-what? How long as this been going on?" He asked me, his voice sharp with anger. "Did he hurt you?" His brown eyes, my brown eyes, narrowed on me. An expression so full of anger and wildness flashed across his face.

I didn't know what to say. I didn't trust this man in front of me, yet I wanted to tell him everything. I'd wanted him to hold me as I cried, for so long, the fact that he was here now, looking about ready to murder someone on my behalf, was overwhelming. "He-he's a very bad person. I was in the hospital a little while ago. I had to have another surgery because he-,"