Page 16 of Close Your Eyes

As I drive away from Ledger, I realize how much I enjoy spending time with him. He’s funny. He’s kind. It’s refreshing being around him.

I head across town, going straight to my father’s house.

When I arrive, he’s sitting on the porch in an old wicker chair, as if he’s waiting for me.

“Hey, Dad,” I say as I step out of my car.

“Hey, Pumpkin,” he says back with a smile.

The house is rundown not because of neglect, but because my father doesn’t have the funds for remodels.

It’s an older wood-framed home, sitting next to an abandoned lot. The home was built in the mid-fifties, making it one of the oldest homes on the block. Blue paint chips away from the weathered clapboard siding. The front porch, adorned with a creaky wooden swing, overlooks a small garden that has seen better days.

I take the chair next to him and sit down. “I stopped by to see how you’re doing.”

He leans back in his seat. “I’m good. I’ve been busy with this new app. It’s going to change everything.” He holds out his phone for me to see. “People can place bets straight from their phone.”

I nod. “That’s exciting,” I say, even though my voice is lackluster and full of no excitement whatsoever.

“I’m going to fix this mess.” His face has seen better days too. Once he was so full of life, now he looks beaten down. And I know exactly why. He knows I have no choice in marrying Bane, and I feel the worry and guilt plays heavily on his features.

I take his hand. “I hope it works. But don’t spend any more money.”

My father pushes his phone away and for the first time since I’ve arrived looks me straight in the eyes. “I’ll figure out something.”

I wrap an arm around his shoulder. “Dad, I don’t think there’s any other way. It’ll be fine.” I need to change the subject before my father breaks down in tears over the situation. Again. “I went by Danbury Park today. Our little beach we used to fish at is still there. Maybe we can go again soon.”

My father smiles at me. “I’d like that. I got some new bait that should work wonders.” He stands from his seat. “Let me show you.”

I follow him into the house, and nothing has changed since I moved out a few months ago. The original hardwood flooring has lost its shine, and the kitchen, although outdated, is clean and well taken care of.

He heads into the garage off the side of the kitchen, and pulls down a white bait box. “We could go this weekend. Catch some big ones.”

I smile. “Okay.” I don’t know if I’ll be able to go on this fishing excursion, but I won’t tell my father that. I don’t know what Bane has scheduled for me. It’s a miracle he lets me out of the house occasionally. It’s not like I could go anywhere.

Where would I run?

Bane knows this. Bane knows he has me by a thread. It’s why he lets me have certain freedoms, because he knows if he didn’t it would probably raise more questions than it’s worth.

Bane knows that I know he’d hurt my father if I ever left. He’d hurt me too.

My father is my entire world. He’s the man who raised me when my mother walked away, and he’s always tried the best he can. Not his fault he has a gambling problem. It’s also not his fault he still can’t seem to stop gambling, even though he promised me he would.

Bane has blacklisted my father from making any bets with his bookies, and so far so good, but I need to look into this app on his phone more. I can’t have my father running up more debt.

Sacrificing my life for my father was never a big deal for me. It’s not like I had much going on anyway, and I couldn’t see any way out of our predicament.

But now I’m feeling anxious as the date marches closer. As reality slaps me in the face that I’ll be Mrs. Bane Delgado soon. My best-case scenario is that he is declared guilty and receives a lengthy jail term, but I’m realistic enough to know that’s unlikely.

In fact, I’m waiting for the day the case crumbles and Bane’s released from house arrest.

I’m sure it’ll happen soon.

My father shows me all the new bait he’s gotten, but I don’t really hear anything he’s saying. My mind is totally consumed by Ledger Thorne. I can’t stop thinking about him. Wondering if he’s thinking about me at this very moment.

My phone dings, and I pull it out of my purse while my father has moved on from the bait and plays with the app on his phone. I smile at Ledger’s text.

Good news. We do sell an orange-flavored cigar in the shop at the club. Nobody bought one the night of the attack, but we’re pulling up the sales for the month. Hopefully, we’ll have some answers soon.