Page 55 of Jig's Last Dance
On the last page, I pause on a picture of my dad and me. We’re standing in the yard, and I’m riding his shoulders with a wide smile on my face. The sight makes me sob, and glancing around guiltily, I pull the picture from the book and tuck it into my bra.
Next to it on the opposite page is a group picture. My dad stands next to Sal, Bastion’s father Roman, and two men I don’t recognize, but my blood runs cold when I see John at the end.
What the fuck?
They’re standing before a cabin with tall, beautiful trees surrounding it. I’ve never seen this picture, I’m sure of it. I’d like to think I’d never forget John either.
If my dad was a hit man, what’s John’s job?
Disturbed, I steal that picture too before speed walking back to my room and locking myself inside. Staring at the image, I hem and haw before sending a text to Ben and crossing my damn fingers he responds.
Do you recognize the other men in this picture?
When I don’t get an immediate response, I lay on my back and stare at the ceiling.
What does it all mean? I can’t reconcile my dad, who was kind and gentle, with the man standing in a picture with John. But maybe that’s where I’m looking at this all wrong.
Maybe I didn’t know my dad at all.
∞∞∞
The next morning, I’m relieved to find an answer from Ben. Although it’s to the point, I’ll take it.
Idk. I think the one at the end used to play golf with Dad?
Huh. I don’t remember Dad playing golf, but maybe he did. So, Dad knew John then?
Shivering, I pull my blanket around my shoulders. Did he know John’s a skeevy fuck?
Jesus, Dad.
Hmm. Jumping into the shower, I don my new designer jeans and boring as fuck button-down with a grimace. Sal wants me to dress like I’m a forty-year-old soccer mom. Gross.
My only nod to defiance is on my face, and I create the goth look I crave before racing down the stairs to meet Marco. The ride is quiet, and once I’m at school, I lean forward and say, “Hey, um, I have to take a few exams after class. You know, entrance exams. Can you pick me up later?”
He tips his glasses, staring at me with his caramel eyes, and I widen my own to keep from twitching. Slowly he nods, and I smile, exiting on shaky limbs and heading for the entrance without looking back.
Once I’m inside, I duck into the bathroom and wash my sweaty hands. Defying Uncle Sal is a bad idea, but I need answers.
When the bell rings, I slip down the hall and through the rear doors, following the bleachers until the end and finding the break in the fence I use when I need to get away from this hellhole.
The school backs up to a ravine, and in my haste, I lose my footing. Muttering several curses, I slide down the hill, hoping no one will notice the new grass stains on the expensive as fuck jeans.
After I dust myself off, and with sweat pooling under my armpits, I head back to the broken-down house with the broken-down girl.
The facade is the same as the last time. No surprise. I approach the door hanging from its hinges with a shiver before pounding my fist on the outside.
When no one answers, I pound again before looking around and stepping through. The front room is empty, and with a frown, I tiptoe down the hall, passing two rooms, both empty and covered in nothing but dust.
A small bathroom and another bedroom, this one partially clean, are next. The filth makes my lip curl, and I sag against the wall in defeat. They’re gone. Whether for now or for good, I don’t know, but I can’t exactly claim exams every day until they maybe come back.
Now what?
Scratching my head, I jump away from the wall and cover my mouth when a huge ass spider skitters back up the wall. Fuck me.
“What are you doing here?”
“Shit,” I whisper, spinning around.