Page 48 of Forbidden Eyes

“Keep packing. Get her to the plane tomorrow, say your goodbyes, and then come back again when you’re not a fucking idiot,” he says.

The door slams. I nod.

Fair enough.

Fourteen

The argument with Uncle Quinn still stings. Yes, I am mad at him, but he isn’t the source of my rage. That lies squarely with my father because as far as I can tell, he’s been playing the king of New York from other people’s misery since before I was born, and he’s done nothing to change his behaviour.

Mom knows I’m coming home. I’ve ignored all of her calls and messages since I told her I’m on my way. At least she can’t bother me here. I’ve also ignored the handful of missed calls and messages from Andi who I haven’t spoken to since the night of her party—the catalyst that put all of this in motion.

The flight should land in about an hour, and I’m still mentally running over my script of what I’m going to say. I’ve been piecing it together since Carter dropped me off. I argued that I managed to get to Chicago on my own and didn’t need anyone to take me to the airport, but I was glad of the company.

His company.

Tension still hugged the air between us. All of the words left unsaid and the what-ifs were still in my head, playing out and giving me a reprieve from what was going to happen next. At least I know it isn’t just one-sided. His body language isn’t easy to read. Nothing about the man is. But when he stood up to Uncle Quinn for me and said he wouldn't leave until I told him it was okay, that told me everything he refused to speak. No one does that unless they think you’re worth it.

At least I hope I was worth it.

“Look after yourself. Change the dressing. You’ll heal.”That's what he said when he passed my bag to me at departures. Look after myself. Nothing more. I stared at his face, my eyes travelling over his scar, and noticed the slight bruising on his jaw. By tomorrow that will be blotched with purple because he’s been hit. Because of me. Uncle Quinn, presumably. I nearly reached for him, nearly tried to wipe the bruise away somehow, and it nearly killed me to look at him and realise I may not see him again, but he was right. I have to think about what’s coming and nothing else, and because of that, I intend to look out for myself first.

After trudging through the airport arrivals, I see Mom barely containing herself. I stare right at her, and suddenly the anger and resentment that have been building evaporate when I see the depth of worry in her eyes—worry that my disappearance has caused her.

She barrels her way through the small crowd of people and wraps her arms around me. “Never do that again. God, Fia, whatever made you think…”

“Mom, relax. I’m fine. I’m safe, and I am an adult.”

“That will never stop me from worrying about you. May I remind you that you could have contacted us?” She pulls back to look at me, assessing me to see if I’ve been injured somehow.

“What, and have Dad send someone to collect me? Or insist Uncle Quinn send me home? I’m not a child, as I keep telling everyone, yet that’s all I’m ever treated as.” Frustration creeps back under my skin as I go back over old ground. “Besides, that’s all in the past now.” She doesn’t know that my trip has changed me, changed the way I see our family.

At least for now.

The ride back home makes me feel even more like an errant child. Torino drives us, but I don’t miss the few glances he gives me in the rearview mirror. He’s been with my father forever. He must know everything that’s gone on in the business over the years, seen all of the bad things I now know must have happened, and not only imagined.

“Is Dad home?” I ask.

“He is. He’s coming back as he wants to speak to you when you get in.”

Good. There’s no way I’ll be able to hold onto this anger if I can’t confront him. I’ll lose my confidence.

“So, what did you do when you were visiting? Did you see Emily and Gabby?”

“Yes. They looked after me.” My lie is more an omission as they technically did look out for me. Or rather Emily did.

“And have you got this out of your system?”

“Excuse me?”

“This running off. Have you got it out of your system?” Mom looks at me expectantly.

I turn to face her and line up the words I need to explain things to her. “Mom, what if I said to you that I wanted to go and travel?”

“What? What about your studies? I thought you couldn’t wait to go back to school? It’s all you’ve ever been interested in.”

“No, it’s all there’s ever been tobeinterested in. There’s a difference.”

“So, you’re telling me you’re just going to give up on your degree?”