AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The other part, the part that ordered flowers for her to see no matter where she is in the manor, that part is convinced my appearance wouldn’t repulse her the way I know it does others.
That she wouldn’t mind the areas where my face has been patchworked back together or the deep burn scars that plague most of my torso and large portions of my legs.
That part even believes she might not hate me when she discovers why I’ve insisted on wearing them like penance versus getting the plastic surgery that would practically make the situation I survived nothing more than a haunting nightmare.
That’s the part of me that knows J.T. is right.
That I have become timid in certain aspects of my life.
Particularly this one.
“Why?!” She shouts, foot stomps beginning, indicating she’s approaching. “Why, Mr. Wilcox?! Why can’t I see her?!”
I swallow the irritation over her childlike behavior of calling me Mr. Wilcox when she’s upset. “Due to a couple of her symptoms returning, Hamilton has ordered a temporary quarantine.”
“When did they return?! I saw her right after dinner yesterday, and she was fine!”
“Overnight,” I explain, fingers working on lifting my lose face mask upward towards my eyes. “She was fine when Clark visited and brought her flowers yet sometime afterward acquired a fever and rash leading Hamilton to believe her condition is just an environmental one. Isolating her while conducting tests to confirm his theory is necessary.”
“And is it not necessary to tell me – her flesh and blood daughter – before such calls are made?!”
“No.”
The bluntness of my retort has my best friend lifting his eyebrows in a scolding nature.
“I do not have to consult you when making any decisions on Lauren’s behalf; however,” the knot of pride in my throat is shoved down, “I would not have accepted Hamilton’s ruling of seclusion if I believed there to be another option.” I let my shoulders peel themselves away from my ears. “I wouldn’t keep you from Lauren if I had real choice.” There’s no stopping my head from tilting slightly to one side in tandem with my confession. “And I damn sure wouldn’t keep Lauren from you.”
An obnoxiously smug grin graces J.T.’s face that prompts me to resume my stoic expression.
Straightening my entire frame.
So, he’s right.
That doesn’t mean he needs to know he’s right.
A heavy, exasperated sigh shakes the ground beneath me before Bryn concedes. “Fine. But I wanna be able to keep an eye on her through video footage. Like you.”
“I will have Park grant you that access.”
“Thank you.”
In spite of the fact that she can’t see it, I let my face along with my tone soften. “Of course.”
“Two quick queshs, Puppet Boy.”
“Can you use my actual name when you ask them?”
“I could, but I’m not gonna.” Her snark sparks my muted snicker. “First off, is breakfast around this place basically a food version of the Kobayashi Maru test? Because asking for it at four a.m. is apparently ‘too early’-”
“What the hell were you doin’ up at four?” J.T. instinctively prods.
“-and asking for it now is evidently ‘too late’.”
“It’s noon,” the face of my company grunts in amusement. “It’s literally fucking lunch time.”
“Okay, you can take your tiger shark tone elsewhere, and simply answer my next question.”
“Hopefully, it’s not time related,” I playfully add to the conversation.
