Page 4 of Dark Knight
The truth is I can't spend the rest of my life hiding behind these walls, hoping things will get better. I need to get away, to start fresh—though how I’ll manage to do that with Romero gatekeeping my every move, I don't know. I'll figure it out. I have to, especially since the only alternative is slowly dying.
Dad steps away from Romero, and when he opens his arms to me, I step into his embrace again. “Listen to him.”
He can't see the way I roll my eyes. “I'll try.”
“Don't make me regret letting you go. It's bad enough that I won’t be there if you need me.”
“I’ll be on my best behavior.” I pull back, smirking up at him. “Come on. If I promised without giving you any shit, you would know I was lying.”
“That's true.” He takes my face in his hands and stares down at me, concern etched into every line on his face. I don't think he’s slept yet, and not because it was his wedding night. The dark circles under his eyes and the stubble on his cheeks add five to ten years to his age. I hate worrying about him, except what can I do? I need to get away from this place, and while I know he is definitely worried about his only daughter going somewhere even though he won’t be able to visit, this is what I need.
“Don't forget you can come back whenever you want,” he whispers before pressing his lips to my forehead. “We'll be waiting for you.”
A sudden rush of emotion tries to choke me, but I push it back like I have for months and force a smile. “Take care of your wife and that baby. I'll be fine.”
“I will.” He looks over the top of my head, his expression hardening, and I know he's looking at Romero. I can't think of a time I felt sorry for him, but this could be the first. If things go wrong somehow, I wouldn't want to be in his shoes.
“We better get going,” Romero announces behind me. Dad bought him a new car for the occasion, an SUV big enough to fit everything I'm bringing, plus the few bags he's packed for himself. I don't know why he has to live like a hermit, but I can’t complain—more space for me and my things.
I should feel something right now, shouldn't I?There should be more emotion as I walk away from the only home I've ever known. Even during college, I lived here. Bianca's the only person I would have wanted to be roommates with, and she was living with her useless boyfriend at the time.
Even the tears standing in Bianca's eyes as Dad puts an arm around her waist aren't enough to break through the numbness clouding my mind. I'm sorry she is sad, but I can't help thinking she'll be better off without me.They both will.I'm too messed up now, and the girl I used to be might as well have never existed. That's the person they love; that’s who they miss. Not me, not the person I am now. Old Tatum died back in France.
My mother's dark blue urn is waiting on the front passenger seat, and I pick it up, holding it carefully as I climb in and close the door. I notice how Romero eyes the urn through the window—and he’d better think twice about sharing his opinion, considering I genuinely don't give a shit. This is all I have left of her, and I’m not packing her up in a box. She might have spent the majority of my life ignoring me, but I can still care for what she left behind.
Good thing I didn't expect a speech from him once he joined me in the car, seeing as I didn’t get one. Settling into the driver's seat, he starts the engine and raises a hand to Dad before shifting the car into drive. I don't bother looking back. I can’t look back. It feels like nothing and everything at the same time.
The silence buzzes all around me, and I hate it. It makes the thoughts and memories inside my head louder. To elevate it, I do the only thing possible. I talk to my robot bodyguard.
“Is there a reason we had to leave at the ass crack of dawn?” I grumble, noticing the first rays of sunlight creeping over the horizon by the time we turn onto the road, running past the front gate.
“Yes. One, you should always experience a sunrise, and two, I want to beat the traffic.”
“Traffic? Where the hell are we going?”
That was the other stipulation. Romero got to choose the location. At this moment, I’m half tempted to jump out of the moving car door to avoid living with this man for God knows how long. If only the reminder of Jefferson and his threats didn’t pop up in my mind at that very instant.
“You'll find out when we get there.”
What a surprise, he doesn't want to tell me. “Don't you think I deserve to know? I know my father said you got to decide where we were going, but it’d be nice to know if I’ll be able to order anything from Amazon and have it delivered this year or if I’ll have to send messenger doves to contact Bianca.”
“Where do you think I’m taking you?” He pauses and shakes his head. “Better yet, don’t answer that. You'll know where we're going when we arrive. It doesn’t make a difference anyway.”
He wouldn’t understand. For ten years, he hasn't seen what difference it makes if I know things. If I'm treated like I matter. I remember over the first few weeks of his time in my house, he went from being moody and resentful to basically shutting down, and that's how he's been ever since. Except when he’s treating me like a worthless, spoiled brat. He seems to take pleasure in that.
“You know, you're the one who offered to do this with me. You don't have to act like somebody put a gun to your head and forced you to be here.”
“I didn’t say that. Just sit back and relax. Here I was, thinking you'd be too tired to talk after yesterday.”
I grit my teeth, my jaw aching from the pressure. “I know you don't think I'm capable of much, but I can attend a small wedding and still have the energy to speak the next day.”
“Stop putting words in my mouth. I was trying to give you credit, for what it's worth. You put the whole wedding together in no time, and it made them happy. I thought you'd be exhausted.”
The thing is, I am. I'm exhausted, drained, worn out. Now that it's over and I don't have adrenaline keeping me moving, I’m basically a husk—not that I’ve been that much better than a husk lately.
It’s nice to know they were happy, making all my work worth it. At least I know I left them with a good memory. I’ve already given both of them plenty of spectacle.
“So, the place where we're going. Is it, you know, in a city? Please, tell me you're not taking me out to the middle of nowhere.”