My cheeks flushed at the memory. My God, the things that man did with his tongue. I felt an ache again just thinking about it, but I didn’t have time to. I needed to hurry up and shower, look presentable, have my hair in place, and mentally prepare myself for an hour long interrogation about why I wasn’t perfect to my father.
I unlocked my door and hurriedly entered. I’d just shut the door and turned when I stopped short, jumping in surprise. My father stood there, in the middle of my living room, turning away from the windows where he would have likely just seen me getting dropped off. He was dressed in his golf pants and collared shirt. It was golf day, of course, and he was usually happy the days he went golfing with his uppity buddies, but today he was far from it. While still looking immaculate – that was my dad for you – his face was nothing to smile at, especially when he took in the state of me. He was pissed. Royally pissed and I flinched when he strode to me.
“So this is what you’ve been up to!” he shouted, stopping in front of me to peer at me from head to toe. “You think your mother will be proud when I tell her you’re jumping into bed on the other side of town with an uneducated thug who sells dope on the side?”
Oh my God, I felt like my life was over.
I didn’t know how to react. My emotions were all over the place. Mostly, I was surprised he’d figured it out because I’d told no one of Marcus, not even my closest friends.
“Did you have me followed?” I whispered in shock.
“Of course I had you followed,” he retorted angrily. “You’re my only child, my little girl. Did you think I’d just sit back while you suffered in class and avoided us? Your mother is going to be devastated, Kate. You’ve put me in a terrible position. Did you do this to me on purpose?”
“No.”
“Are you trying to rebel?” he questioned, his face pained. “Have we stifled you? Did I fail you as a father?”
“No, Dad, no.”
“Then why?”
“It had nothing to do with you.”
“Everything that is part of you has to do with me!”
My eyes watered. “This wasn’t malicious, and I understand your anger, Dad –”
“No,” he cut in with a shake of his head. “I’m disappointed more than angry. I truly thought you were different from all the rest. Never did I think I’d catch you doing something like this. Throwing it all away for a boy, a criminal who is nothing – who will forever be nothing!”
“He’s good, Dad, I wouldn’t spend time with someone if he wasn’t a good person –”
“I’ve had him checked out, Kate. He’s not a good person. He’s been in out and of trouble since he was fifteen. Look where he lives, look what he does, think about what you’re saying before you tell me he’s a good person.”
It wasn’t fair. Anyone could look through his life and paint him out to be a terrible person, but there was so much more to Marcus than that. It just wasn’t fair.
I didn’t respond. I was too lost for words. I’d been caught out, red handed, no way of hiding it or trying to sugar coat the situation. I felt like I’d done the walk of shame in front of my freaking dad, and I was mortified and embarrassed, but, more importantly, I was disappointed in myself. It wasn’t because of my dishonesty, either, but for not being more careful, which further cemented how glued I was to Marcus.
“Now,” he continued, “this is what’s going to happen next –”
A knock interrupted him, and I froze at the sound. There was only one person who could be at the door right now. Shit.
Dad’s eyes widened at the realization. “You gave him a key?” he whispered in shock.
I hesitated and his face darkened. He stormed past me, and I followed him frantically.
“Dad, stop!” I called out to him. “Don’t, please, don’t do anything.”
He pushed me aside and opened the door, and he stilled at the sight of Marcus holding my wallet, looking like his usual self in baggy jeans and a black tank. Dad went five different shades of red, and I grabbed at his arm quickly when he made to move to him.
“You son of a bitch!” he hollered at him, pointing his finger at Marcus. “You stay away from my daughter! Do you hear me?”
Marcus took a step back, looking between him and me with a blank look on his face.
“You’re a fucking nothing!” my dad went on, and I grimaced and pleaded for him to stop. “I know all about you! I know you’re a black hole and you’re no good for my daughter. Do you hear? You leave her alone!”
Marcus just stared at me, his face void of emotion. “You left your wallet,” he then quietly said, and before he could continue, Dad tore it out of his hand.
“Get out,” he demanded. “You go around my daughter one more time and you’re done. I’ll have the police on you and you’ll be put away for all you do on the side. Do you hear me?”
Marcus didn’t respond to him. He was good at keeping his emotions hidden, and I’d have preferred to see him angry instead of looking like an empty void in front of us.
“Marcus,” I whispered to him, pouring out the sorrow in my voice.
He simply shoved his hands in his pockets, shot me one last look, and took off down the hallway. I was quivering by the time Dad slammed the door shut and phoned my mother. I felt lost and trapped, and while Dad carried on about how I was going to change my ways, the same question buzzed through my mind, over and over again.
How the hell was I going to see him now?
*
The entire day was hell. My mother acted like I’d committed murder, sobbing at my apartment, threatening to bring me back home so she could “show me the way again”. Dad didn’t go to golf until the afternoon, after he’d spent three hours giving me a lecture of how we were going to fix this before people in our social circle found out I was with a “criminal.”
It was disastrous.
I resented them, and I’d never had a bad thought of my parents before that day. But I hated them for judging, for not letting me explain the way I felt for him.
And then, to make matters worse, Marcus didn’t call me like he promised he would. I’d kept my phone on vibrate in my pocket the entire time, and they were so upset, they hadn’t once thought to take it off me.