Protector by Nora Ash

Author:Nora Ash [Ash, Nora]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Little Huldra Media

Six

Addie

The knock on my door is not unexpected, but it still tightens the knot of dread in my stomach to the point of pain.

I hover in the hallway, hands clenched into fists, as I stare at my front door and force my chest to expand with long, slow breaths.

You knew this was coming, Addie.

Another knock, this time louder. My door vibrates from the force.

“Addie! Enough hiding. Open the door.”

My father’s voice, muted by the thick wood separating us, but still ringing with authority, cuts through my attempts at calming my nerves. My body reacts before I’ve given it permission to, taking me the last few steps forward.

Mechanically I raise my hand, unclasp the chain, and slide the lock open with a click that rings ominously all the way down to my toes. I don’t manage to plaster on the pretense of a smile before my father pushes the door open and steps into my apartment.

“Addie,” he rumbles in that tone that always makes me feel like a child again—chiding and vaguely disappointed, but also full of comfort and care. “Seven days? You couldn’t answer your phone? Your mother’s been worried sick.”

I turn around, unable to look him in the eye. He follows my retreat to the living room.

“I’m thirty-three years old, dad. She needs to accept that I don’t need her fussing just because I’m off sick for a bit. Besides, it’s not like she thought I was dead. I texted her. Twice. Coffee?”

He nods at my offer. “You know how she gets. She wouldn’t be able to handle it if something happened to you.”

“A stomach bug isn’t going to kill me.”

When I return with a tray of coffee and cookies—the chocolatey kind my mother doesn’t allow him at home—he is sitting on my couch. But rather than relaxing into its plush comfort, he seems to be scanning the room.

Even though I scrubbed every square inch of my space from top to bottom, twice and with bleach, the knot in my stomach still pangs.

“What are you looking for?” I manage with a casual ease I don’t feel. I sit on the edge of the armchair facing the couch, the muscles in my back too tense to allow me to lean back.

He flicks his eyes back to me, briefly, before he reaches for a cookie. “A stomach bug, hmm?”

I swallow around a lump in my throat. “Yes, I—”

“Addie.” He dunks his cookie once into the coffee—black, no sugar—and lets out a weary sigh. “I watched the security footage from your lab.”

There is a ringing in my ears. I can barely focus on it through the sinking feeling traveling down my chest and landing somewhere by my tailbone. “What? W-Why would you—?”

His steely gray eyes flick up to mine again, this time holding my gaze. “Because my only daughter went near-radio silent, and my wife was losing her mind. Is that really what you think we should discuss?”

It sure beats the alternative. I glare at him, because anger is the only shield I can grasp for.

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