Page 104 of Wicked Promises

“Well, we never figured on being here, so…”

Okay, this is awkward. I motion to the table. “Can we sit?”

Around us, everyone else has settled down. We’re the only ones still standing, and the guards are eyeing us.

Dad dips his chin. Once we’ve settled around the table, he leans in. “Margo, a detective came to see me after you left. Said?—”

I take a deep breath. “We have some… explaining to do. In that regard.”

He motions for me to continue, and I tell him what happened. The quick version anyway: car accident, abduction, Caleb finding me and taking me to the hospital, his interrogation.

Dad is gripping the edge of the table by the end of it. His gaze goes to the scar on my forehead. “Is that…?”

“Glass from the accident, I think,” I say. “And I still get headaches from the concussion…”

Caleb grunts. “Same.”

Dad raises his eyebrows.

“Caleb’s uncle hit him in the back of the head for standing up to him,” I tell him. “I found him in a room… which actually brings us to our visit. We’ve been uncovering some strange things.”

He rubs at his face. He’s sporting a bit more scruff than I remember, and while the hair on top of his head is still dark, the beard is peppered with gray. “Say what you will about your father, he never fucking hit a child.”

I press my lips together.

“They don’t have any leads?” he asks through his hands.

“Theydon’t,” Caleb answers.

Dad drops his arms and glares at him. “What the fuck does that mean?” His gaze goes to me. “Tell me you haven’t been pulling any cowboy shit.”

I shift. “Well…”

“We have.” Caleb pats my leg under the table. “And we found something which led us here.”

Dad’s eyebrow goes up. “I’m almost tempted to walk away, just because you put my daughter in danger?—”

“Caleb saved me, Dad.” I reach out, taking his hand. “He found me.”

Dad touches the bracelet on my wrist. “I didn’t recognize this the last time you were here, but this is the one you made, isn’t it? One for each…”

Caleb shows him the bracelet on his own wrist.

“Inevitable,” Dad murmurs.

“You think so?” Caleb slides his sleeve back down.

I check Caleb’s expression. He’s thoughtful, and not… not as judgmental as I would’ve expected.

“What happened between you and my dad?” he asks.

And there goes that ‘not as judgmental’ thought.

“Norah told us that you used to be friends,” I blurt out.

Dad’s eyes widen, then he chuckles. “So, you’ve been playing detective?”

I shrug. “Had to figure out the truth somehow.”