Page 40 of InfraRed
I shake my head. “I-I c-can’t.” Graham’s jaw clenches tightly, looking angrier by the second. “H-he can’t know you’re here. Please.”
“Moments ago, you told me yourself you are not a child any longer, so why are you acting like one now?”
My mouth falls open, the tears burning my eyes threaten to spill. He doesn’t understand. My Dad would never be okay with this—no one would—and I can’t do that to him.
Dad knocks again, and I start shaking as panic takes over. Graham blows out a harsh breath, raking a hand through his hair. “Okay, okay.” He brings me to his chest, and my forehead falls against him without thought. “Breathe for me. Nice and slow.” His hands stroke up and down my back as he breathes in deeply, and I mimic the action, then exhale slowly. We do this several times until I don’t feel like passing out. “That’s my good girl,” he hums, still rubbing my back. After another few seconds, he pulls me away from him, then tilts my head back a bit. “Just tell me something, and be honest, because I know when you’re lying to me, Casey?”
I swallow hard, praying he doesn’t ask something I can’t answer. “Okay.”
“Are you afraid of Liam?”
“No!” I whisper shout with wide eyes. “Not like that. I’m only afraid of letting him down.”
“Casey, you have one minute before I come in,” Dad warns, and I know he means it.
I silently plead with Graham to hide. Another growl rumbles from him, but he pulls away from me and stalks toward my room.
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to put every mask in place. If Dad smells even a hint of panic, he won’t stop asking questions until he gets answers. I’ve long crafted the art of keeping Dad safe from things that would hurt him. I just have to remember to do the same now because this would upset him. Graham may not believe I could disappoint my dad, but I know I can. I have before when I learned about him and Lily. I reacted so poorly. It’s not something I like to think about because those days of knowing I’d hurt him ripped me apart. And the look on his face… I can’t go through that again. He doesn’t deserve that from me. Not after giving up everything to make sure I was happy.
I wrap my fingers around the knob and yank the black metal door open. “Sorry,” I mumble as I step back, allowing him—and Uncle Henry?—inside. “I was in the bathroom.” I hope that will convince them my flushed face is a result of the hangover they probably expect me to have, and not my stepbrother that just had his mouth on my…
Shit. I can feel my face turning redder.
They step inside, and both of their eyes trail from my head—which I fight the urge to run my fingers through for fear it will give me away—to my pink and yellow sock-covered feet. Dad’s mouth twists as he lifts a brow. “Rough night, Case?” he smirks, holding my bag by his finger.
I take the tote, holding it close to my chest. Any other time, embarrassment and shame would consume me over that comment, knowing it meant he was more than aware of how much I drank last night. But right now, I’d so much rather he assumed I looked like this because of arough night.Besides,he expects my head up and shoulders back.Eye contact, Casey. Own your thoughts and feelings even if when you’ve done something wrong.
Ha!If he knew Graham was in my bedroom, or what he was doing to me moments ago, he wouldn’t spout that line.
Curling my toes, I swing my foot like a scolded child, playing it up. “Maybe a little.”
He hums as he walks further into the apartment. “I bet you did.”
What does he mean by that?
Sweat trickles down my spine as my heart speeds up from the anxiety building in my chest. My nails dig into my palms until pain bursts through my hands, giving me something to focus on besides the panic I have to choke down.
I can’t break my dad’s heart over something foolish and reckless. Not again. Especially over something that will never happen again. “I-uh… I thought you had some emergency at work to see about.”
Dad leans against the back of the sofa, crossing his arms over his chest and one ankle over the other. Uncle Henry continues for the kitchen. “Figured you needed something to eat since we heard you drank the bar last night.”
Wanting to avoid Dad’s amusement, I watch Uncle H as he stops at the island. My heart falls out of my ass when I see him pick up the white paper sack, identical to the one in his hand. His sharp, green gaze meets mine. His lips press into a thin line as his brows furrow, and I feel all the color leech from my face.
My mind scrambles, searching for the next lie in my arsenal, knowing he’s about to ask questions. Then he shocks me by picking up the bag Graham brought and taking it to the fridge.It takes genuine effort to keep my jaw off the floor, but when he turns around, he rubs the side of nose. Code for we’re going to talk.
Double crap!
“You okay, Case? You went pale all of a sudden.”
I force a tiny smile on my face and nod. “Yeah. The thought of food isn’t very settling right now.”
“I imagine not.” Dad tilts his head, looking suspicious. “But you still need to eat.”
“I will,” I promise.
Uncle Henry slaps a hand on Dad’s shoulder, getting his observant eyes off me. I have no idea how Dad hasn’t figured out all my tells with as hard as he looks. It must be a testament to my acting skills. It only makes Graham’s perceptiveness more frustrating. “We need to go before we’re late.”
“Not yet,” Dad tells him, and Uncle Henry rolls his eyes.