A/N: Thanks for continuing on this road of teen-aged treachery with us!


Chapter 4. HANNA

Sunday September 9th, 3PM Eastern Standard Time

After pacing outside his office for about twenty minutes, psyching myself up, I walk in to find my dad at his desk, reading something quietly to himself with that all too familiar scowl on his face. Ugh. Everything I've tried with him and mom over the past few weeks has failed miserably. This is my last ditch effort.

I approach him with caution, but hope. He's always been easier to persuade when he's busy doing something and not really paying attention to what I'm asking.

Most of the time anyway.

Sometimes.

Every once in a while.

Suddenly I'm really nervous but I find my nerves again.

Here goes nothin'.

"Dad, I need the car."

He doesn't even budge. Like, not even an inch. God, I hate it when he ignores me.

"Dad."

"I don't fucking think so, Hanna." God, I hate it even more when he's only acting like he's ignoring me.

He hits some keys on his laptop and then pushes his chair over to the printer to grab the papers out of it as they finish spitting out. Probably so I wouldn't see them.

"Dad."

He's reading over something that looks like it's really pissing him off as he answers me. "You remember when you borrowed your mom's car 2 months ago?"

"Yes, but..."

"You remember that huge ass dent in the front fender you came home with?"

"Yes... but..."

"And do you fucking remember how much I ended up paying to get that shit fixed?"

I let out a sigh of defeat. Sort of. "Yes."

No more buts. I realize he isn't gonna make this easy.

Dad looks up at me, finally. "Then like I said, I don't fucking think so."

And I narrow my eyes at him, thinking, The blackmail card seems to work every once in a blue moon.

"You know Mom doesn't like it when you use that word around me."

His eyebrow go up and I know what's coming. "Don't even try that shit with me, kid, you know it's not gonna work."

Dammit. Why does he have to be such a know it all?

"Fine. I won't borrow the car," I tell him sarcastically. Technicalities... technicalities.

"Goddamn right, you won't."

I turn to go, nonchalantly telling him, "I have homework to finish up, I'll be upstairs for a while." But not a very long while.

"Great."

Once I round the corner and I'm sure no one's following me, I run for it, up the stairs to my room and I lock the door behind me. I grab a few things, stuffing them into my backpack as fast as possible. I pull my hair into a tight ponytail, make my way out of my bedroom window, and sneak over to Dad's Mustang.

Getting the keys obviously would have made this whole thing a lot easier, but I know how to hot-wire a car, so no big. Dad showed me himself one time when he was explaining why I might need the skill at some point in my life.

Little did he know then, that that time would be when he was trying to keep me from helping a friend out.

A best friend.

One of them... both of them. This is important. And there's no way I'm missing it.

I'm pretty sure I'm clean and clear of DC too, until I get pulled over for running one of those stupid red lights that only stay green for like, ten seconds. I mean, for the love of peanuts, I need to make the best time I can if I'm gonna make it up to NYC in time to meet Faith and Thea.

Right?

I don't even bother saying anything to the officer as he approaches my window. I know what's coming. So, I pull the old trembling lip routine.

"License and registration, please?"

Waterworks, check.

"Miss?"

Oh, he's a pushy little... I am clearly gonna need to break out the big guns here. "I'm sorry, I just, my Uncle Emmett..." I clear my throat a little for dramatic effect, pushing back the fake tears. "McCarty... he told me to go straight home after I babysat for him tonight and I didn't... I just ran by McDonald's because I was really hungry, see? And I was trying to make up some time so my dad wouldn't notice I took too long, but this stupid light was..."

"Did you say Emmett... McCarty?"

"Y... yeah?" I make the puppy dog eyes for him. Men hate and love the puppy dog eyes. I know that because Mom makes them at Dad all the time and every time he scowls at her, but every time, she gets her way.

Ya gotta love the puppy dog eyes.

"As in, Sergeant, Emmett McCarty?"

"Yes?" I wipe some tears away. "Why? Do you know him?"

Of course he knows him, everyone knows him. He's part of the reason I'm not invited to most of the good parties around town. My father is the other part. Between the two of them, anyone who doesn't wanna get raided half way through having a good time won't come near me with a twenty foot pole.

I know right? Welcome to my world.

"He's your uncle, huh?"

"That's right. He doesn't live far from here, and I'm just around the corner..." The officer looks around like he's thinking about something and then smiles down at me.

Bingo, baby!

"Ya know what? That light needs some adjusting anyway, and there isn't much traffic out here tonight which means it's not like you were really putting anyone in danger, so..."

"Oh wow, really? You're letting me off the hook? Thank you so much, officer! I promise I'll stop at every single light from now on, no matter what!"

Schmoozing is a fine art, you know. My dad never seems to see the need for it in his line of work, but at least I know there are other ways of getting the job done, besides force and intimidation.

I sit there, smile nicely and patiently wait for the nice officer to pull away before I start off again. Once I'm on the 295 headed due North, I punch it.


TF loves Hanna and her dad. js