CHAPTER EIGHTEEN TABATHA

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

TABATHA

"I passed," I exclaim, running into my father's office with my test in my hand.

I don't get the congratulations party that I quite expected. My father sits behind his desk dressed in his dark blue suit that cost more than some people pay for their cars. Stacks of paperwork sit in front of him. Dash has his palms on the desk as he leans to look it over as well. I take a moment to admire the sliver of his lower back exposing some of the nail marks that I left on him from the quickie we had this morning before I went to school.

Dash and I haven't left my father's house this past week. Well, I go to school and his body is almost back to normal so he goes up to the track. He and my father are trying to get his new bike ready. Something is going on with what happened, but neither one is telling me shit. But at least Daddy is letting us stay here. Together. Every morning, we get up and walk down to the kitchen for Dash to have some coffee and for me to eat breakfast before school. My father just sits at the head of his table and stares at us. Like maybe he thinks it was a mistake to allow us both to stay here to be together. But he wants us to keep our relationship a secret from the world, therefore, we gotta keep it under wraps. And that wouldn't happen if we were at either of our own houses.

"Sweet pea?" my father says, getting my attention. Dash stands from the desk and turns to face me.

"Hey, baby," he says and then walks over to me. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me in for a long, slow kiss.

My father clears his throat, and I chuckle as I pull away.

"You can at least pretend to be discreet around me," my father says eyeing Dash.

"Sorry, sir," he responds with a head nod.

I hold up my test. "I passed," I say once again.

"That's great." Dash takes it from me. He reads it over and then looks at me wide-eyed. "You did more than passed, you aced it."

I give him a big smile. "That I did."

My father stands from his desk. "We should go out to celebrate." He smiles.

"Daddy. It was just one little test. That I had to take twice," I remind him.

"Nonsense." He waves me off. "We are going to dinner. I feel like you guys haven't been out of this house except for school and work all week." He sighs. "I remember when your mother and I were like that."

"Eeeeww, Dad," I say scrunching my face with disgust. I do not want to hear about my parents back when they were young. "Speaking of mother. Will she be joining us?"

"No. She has a meeting this evening."

I nod with a smile to hide my disappointment. She's always working. "Go ahead and get ready. We should be done in about thirty minutes," he states before he sits back down.

I look over at Dash, and he gives me a big smile. He leans into me. "So proud of you, baby," he whispers and then places a kiss on my cheek.

Geez, I've never been so proud to make an A.

***

You never realize how hard it is to keep your hands to yourself until you have to. Little did I know that my father had a hunch I would pass my test. He already had this dinner planned. I look out the dark black windows of my father's Escalade as his driver escorts us to dinner.

"So, how is the new bike coming?" I ask, looking over at Dash beside me. His hand rests in mine on his lap.

"Great."

"Is the new bike finished?" I ask my father who sits in the front seat.

"It should be very soon." He leans over and says something to the driver, who nods with a, "Yes, sir."

"If you ask me, I pay them too much to be this slow," he growls. "We are on a very tight schedule. Our first race is in three weeks."

"Three weeks?" I look over at Dash in surprise. "Will you be ready in three weeks?"

"Absolutely," he says with confidence and a smile.

We pull up to the restaurant and my father turns in his seat to look at our joined hands.

I roll my eyes as I pull mine out of Dash's. "I know the rules, Daddy."

"Just checking."

Just as I say that, Dash gets out and holds the door open for me. I thank him nicely and he gives me a flirtatious wink that makes me giggle.

I smooth down my red baby doll dress as we enter the restaurant. The hostess immediately seats us at my father's favorite table in the back.

It reminds me of the first time that we sat down to eat. It feels like that was a lifetime ago, yet it was just a few weeks. I give a little laugh.

"What's so funny?" Dash asks me.

"I was remembering when my father asked me to dinner and you just happened to be here."

Dash gives me a smirk. "That's why you asked to tag along?" my father asks, and Dash nods, still looking at me.

"Thought you would get lucky," I ask.

He shakes his head. "I already got lucky."

"Jesus," my father says shaking his head. "You two are going to be the death of me."

We both laugh at his unease. "But really, sweet pea, I'm glad you have time for me once again. I've enjoyed you being at the house. I've missed you." He looks over at Dash. "She never had time for her mother and me when she was with Rodger."

I duck my head in shame at his words. I hate how much Rodger took me away from them as well. I was just too weak to stand up for myself.

"Well, I would never do that," Dash replies in all seriousness.

I have a feeling that he feels that way ‘cause of his own family. They don't seem to be very close. Hell, they wouldn't even come into town when Valerie's parents told them that he had crashed his bike and ended up in the hospital. And I haven't heard him talk to them on the phone since that incident, either.

I hear my father's phone ringing in the distance as I stare at Dash. He and my father are in conversation about his new bike as my father answers it.

"Mr. Knight," he says into his phone, and I take the opportunity to run my heel along Dash's leg under the table.

He leans over. "You better stop that. I'd hate to take you back to the bathroom."

I throw my head back laughing. As if I would actually do that with my father sitting out here at our table.

"We'll take care of it," my father snaps, getting our attention. "They have nothing to go on. He doesn't even remember the boy being there." Dash places his arms on the table as he leans over and watches my father intently. "That's what I pay you for. I may not be an attorney, but I know extortion when I hear it."

"Extortion?" I ask quietly looking over at Dash. He shakes his head at me but keeps his attention on my father. "Take care of it," he snaps once again.

"What's going on?" I ask.

My father slams his phone down onto the table, exhibiting his temper. My father has always been a laid-back type of guy, but if you mess with his family or business, you will see another side of him.

He looks over at Dash before he speaks. "The family says they have pictures of you serving him."

"What?" he barks. "That's a lie. I swear I don't remember seeing him there. I can't deny that he may have had drinks there. But I swear I never served him."

"He came in after me and Jackie got there," I admit, remembering the pimple-face kid walking in behind us. "I went straight to the kitchen for a drink, and he continued to walk down the hall."

"Are you sure?" Dash asks and I raise my eyebrows at his question.

"Of course, I am. Do you not believe me?"

"You were already drunk when you got there," he states.

"You were driving drunk?" my father growls. I ignore him.

I lean over the table and narrow my eyes on Dash. "Jackie drove me there. Yes, I had already had a few drinks, but I was just fine until you started shoving gin down my throat."

"Shoving gin down your throat?" he asks in disbelief. "You were the one trying to drown your sorrows in a bottle." I gasp. "What? Can't remember how much you were tore up over Rodger leaving you? And you had so much that wasn't the only thing you couldn't remember…"

"I left him." My voice rises. I slam my elbow on the table and point my finger at him. "And how dare…"

"Stop." My father's voice rings over ours. "Fighting about something so pointless isn't going to help us figure out the problem. It's just going to cause more."

I take a deep breath. As does Dash.

"And they no longer care about the alcohol."

"Then what are they saying now?"My father looks over at me and then back to Dash. "They also have photos of you two together."

"What?" we both shout at the same time.

"They have photos of you two kissing out at the track."

"Jesus! Have they been following us? What in the hell do they want?" Dash asks.

"Money," my father responds simply. "They want money. At first, I'm sure they thought that they could get it from you. But now they feel that they have better leverage by bringing my daughter into it."

"Maybe they are lying?" I offer.

"How would they know that?" Dash asks. "That is exactly what we did. I saw you leaving. I brought in the bike and ran to stop you."

"This is why you don't mix business with pleasure," my father mumbles.

Dash ignores him. "I begged you to stay. You did. We made out."

"How would he know that?" I ask. Dash having a day at the track was not big news. Then a thought hits me. "The wreck was on the news. It released his name and everyone who was there. Maybe they are just grasping for straws."

"There was only one other person there who knew that we walked off together," Dash says and I tilt my head in confusion.

"Valerie," my father answers.

"Does she know this kid?" I ask Dash.

"How in the hell would I know?" he snaps, growing angry again.

"How would you not know?" I snap. "You've known her forever. Have you ever heard her mention his name?" The bitch has called every day; she has even been to my parents' house. She had the nerve to show up two days ago, but my father told her that he was in a lot of pain and was sleeping it off.

"How many damn times do I have to tell you...? I don't know every little thing about the bitch." Dash snaps at me.

"Enough," my father roars as the waitress approaches our table. "Come back later," he orders her. She spins around and all but runs off.

"Call their bluff," I suggest.

"That's a stupid idea," Dash fires back.

"Did you just call me stupid?"

He leans back in his seat and chooses to ignore my question, but his narrowed gray eyes say it all. His hard face, tight jaw—Did I stutter look on his face.

"Call their bluff," I repeat, and he snorts.

"We've been hiding out for a week," he shoots back. "Why would we be willing to risk it?"

"Dash is right," my father agrees. "Why would we do that?"

"And why, exactly, are we hiding out?" I ask. This is what I meant by keeping secrets. "That day at the track you told me no more secrets. Why are you still keeping them from me?" I demand.

"Sweet pea…?"

"No, Father," I snap. "Dash is going to be honest with me or he's not gonna have to worry about the world knowing about us ‘cause there will be no us." I know my voice sounds hard, but would I really walk away from him? I hope that I won't have to follow through with that threat.

He shakes his head as he looks down at the table with a hard laugh. "You just can't let shit go, can you?"

"Obviously not," I answer.

He looks up from the table and into my eyes. "The brakes were cut from my bike. Someone wanted that bike to go down. That's what I haven't told you."

"What?" I ask in shock. "Are you sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure," my father answers my question.

"But…why?" Who would want to hurt Dash?

"That's what we don't know."

"Do you think it was that kid?" I ask looking over at my dad. "He knew we were there. He says he has pictures…"

He shrugs. "Your guess is as good as ours."

I look down at the table as I realize why we are keeping a secret from the world. If they knew that we were an item, it would not only look bad for my father's company, but it would also make me a target as well. "What do we do?" I ask, feeling defeated.

"Exactly what we've been doing," Dash replies.

I lean back in my chair as my father finally signals for the waitress to return to take our orders. I don't know why, but the fact that Dash wants us to continue being a secret hurts. But I understand his reason behind it. Safety.