I lean back against the counter, cross my arms and meet his black stare with my own black stare.
“I believe you have something that’s mine,” Alan says, his voice clipped and controlled.
My gaze shifts to Zoe, hovering close to her dad by the fridge. “What did I tell you? Nothing. Whatever I do he never gets angry at me. I swear one of these days I’m going to explode. I can’t take it anymore.”
Zoe’s eyes flash with sad comprehension, but she says nothing.
Alan sets down his coffee. “Oh, believe me, Kaley, I am very angry. I just prefer not to yell in Ian’s kitchen. Go grab your things. Get in the car. We’ll go somewhere where we can both yell until you can explain to me what stealing my car is about.”
Nope, last thing I want is to end this now. I search for something to say that will piss him off.
“Did you have a nice night with my mother?”
That worked.
His face reddens.
“That’s what this is about? You stole my car because you’re angry that I spent the night with your mother?”
I take a moment to look around the kitchen, making sure Alan knows I’m in control of this and that he isn’t, and then I shift my gaze back to him.
“Why should I be angry about that?” I jeer, but maintain an air of indifference. “You’ve used my mom as an emotional crash pad my entire life. I’ve watched this movie before. I know how it ends. So why don’t you leave before you fuck up my family even more than it is already?”
He stares at me, saying nothing, like he doesn’t know how to manage this or even what this is about.
Internally I start to twirl.
“I’m not doing anything of the sort, Kaley.”
Fuck. Calm. Patient. Tolerant, and Jesus Christ, how can he stare at me and not know what’s happening here?
It can’t be true.
Linda can’t be right.
Alan would have to be blind not to see what’s obvious.
I scrunch my mouth. I start to shake my head, flipping my hair, and fight to hold my emotions in check.
“Go get your stuff. I’ll drive you home.”
I look away from him. “I don’t have to go anywhere with you. You’re not my father.”
The second I say father my stomach shudders.
He stares at me, shaking his head.
“I suggest you get moving. Now, Kaley.”
My fingers curl around the counter until my knuckles turn white. “I should have wrecked the fucking car!”
Crap, I showed my anger first.
I look at him.
Black eyes rapidly search my face as if he’s trying to figure out what’s going with me and can’t.
My stomach does another painful somersault.
“I don’t give a damn about the car, Kaley.” He leans across the counter, removes a rolling pin from a kitchen countertop utensil set, and holds it out to me. “Wreck away. Destroy the car if you think it will help you. Then maybe you’ll be ready to talk to me and you can explain to me why you’re angry.”
Really?
Why I’m angry?
Are you cruel?
Stupid?
Or just dense like everyone says?
You’re my fucking father; why shouldn’t I be angry?
“I don’t want to talk to you,” I murmur in an embarrassingly weak voice. “It’s pointless. It always has been. I’m not leaving here with you. Call the cops if you want to. I don’t care.”
The second I say those words my insides go cold because I realize they’re true; it is pointless. I won’t ever get the truth by talking to him.
“I’m trying to cut you a break here, Kaley.”
Is that what you call this?
Cutting me a break?
“You’re not cutting me a break,” I snap with more emotion than I want to show. “That’s not what you’re doing here. Denial may be a terminal addiction for you, but even you should be able to figure out that I’m not a child anymore and I’m not stupid.”
He rakes a hand through his hair again. “I know you’re not a child. I’ve never thought you were stupid. I know you’ve been through a lot lately. It’s why I’m willing to let this go and take you home.”
“Now you’re just being patronizing and stupid.”
I push away from the counter and run from the room. I dropped to my knees beside the bed, grab my tote, and lift out the box Zoe and I bought at the pharmacy last night. GeneSys Home Paternity Test. Try being fucking clueless with this shoved in your face.
I go back into the kitchen, stare at him, and slam it down on the counter in front of him.
Alan’s face pales. “Where did you get that?”
“You can buy more than condoms at the drug store.”
He grimaces, and I can feel that internally he’s as chaotic as I am now. Getting the picture at last, Dad? Even as frightened as I am, something akin to crippling relief floods my veins, a sensation that this part of my life will be over soon, and that my dad might finally just talk straight to me and explain to me why—
“I’m not going to take that.” Alan’s furious voice pulls me from my thought. “You’re being ridiculous. You’ve embarrassed me. Are you happy?”
I gape at him.
Embarrassed?
Happy?
I fight not to throw the box at him, and instead calmly remove and then unwrap one long Q-tip looking instrument.
I hold it out to him. “Touch it inside your cheek and give it back to me. I can do the rest myself.”
His eyes move so rapidly as he studies me I can’t tell what he’s thinking or how this is hitting him or what direction this is going to go.
“This is about Khloe,” he announces as if a lightbulb just turned on in his head.
Infuriating and wrong.
“Your constant anger at me, everything you’ve done this morning, it is about your sister,” he continues in disbelief. He meets my gaze directly, unwaveringly. “Yes, she’s my daughter, you are going to have to figure out a way to be OK with that, and I don’t need to take a DNA test, Kaley. There is no doubt in my mind and I won’t do it. I would never hurt your mother that way. Your mother’s word is enough for me. It should be enough for you, too.”
Oh God, Alan, there’s only two of us talking here. Why am I not even the focus of this discussion for you? Why is it always my mother? Only now it’s Khloe also and not me.
The tears are pushing upward.
I have to get out of the room.
I won’t let him see me cry.
“God, you’re an idiot,” I scream, startling everyone, before I grab the box off the counter.
I hurry down the hallway to Zoe’s room. My thoughts and emotions are spinning. I shoved a DNA test in his face, and even after that, for him, it wasn’t about me.
The tears erupt and I sink down on the bed.
I feel arms around me.
I turn into Zoe.
“I’m sorry, Kaley. I know that was awful for you. But Alan is here. I know you missed it. But he was trying. He just didn’t get it. You shouldn’t have run. Why didn’t you just ask him if he’s your dad? Why didn’t you talk to him? Demand the truth.”
I lift my face, frantically brushing at the streaming wetness on my cheeks. “Because I could see it in his eyes. He is never going to tell me the truth. He would have lied to me. I didn’t want to hear him say the words to my face. I don’t think I could take that.”
* * *
When I pull into my garage, Mom’s car is gone. Perfect.
I unbuckle my seat belt and grab my bag.
“Kaley, you’re not really going to do it, are you?”
My mouth drops as I look at Zoe, nervous crinkle in her brow and ridiculously fretful. Can she really wonder that after the scene in her kitchen this morning?
“Yep. I’m doing it,” I announce, opening the car door. “I don’t know why you are still freaked out. Nothing bad happened. Jeez, Alan didn’t even call my mom. My phone would have blown up hours ago if he had. He never gets mad. He never tells on me. It’s all good. Can you stop worrying? Are you coming?”