A/N: Not many people have reviewed this story but that's the beauty of it. I don't get a lot of "good chapter, can't to see what happens next". I get in depth, well thought out reviews…and I dig that. Now…to soothe Ms. Shanny, and a few others, this is a totally light chapter…well not totally, we got to get something out of the way first…but pretty light…enjoy

P.S. For Shanny, because I took too long with the schedule I'll give you a longer chapter and its light ;) BTW I've been dropping very subtle hints throughout the last few chapts…let's see who can catch on to what's going on with Kalista!

Torque

John Sr. walked into the bedroom of his godchild. The last few days were hell on her but equally as hard on him. It was hard enough to have to pull the plug on a man he held as family but then to have his godchild spew venom at him at every turn…well something had to give somewhere somehow.

He walked into her room and just looked at her for a minute. There was something about this child. You could see it when she was first born. She was a spitfire no doubt but all of that was to cover the vulnerability. No matter what she said, Kalista was daddy's little girl and there would be nothing in the world that would change that.

John sighed; she looked so beautiful, so peaceful. Laying there with her mass of red/blonde curls surrounding her like a quilt, her olive skin had darkened since she was a child as a result of her mother's Dominican roots.

"Lissa," he whispered into her ear, "wake up."

"Hmmm?" she opened her eyes, "What is it Nonno?"

"I need to talk to you bambina," he told her using the Italian word for baby.

"Nonno, listen. I've already prayed Papá's soul into heaven. I really don't want to know it's been done, okay?" she was trying to be as diplomatic as she could about this situation but parts of her still wanted to slap his face.

"That's just it bambina," he said, "When we went today to do the procedure, your father's brain activity had increased. It had increased so much that he is now considered viable."

Kalista shook her head. She knew what viable meant, but how was it that her father was so close to life now but just a few days ago so close to death? "Nonno I don't understand,"

John Sr. hugged her, "Neither do I bambina, neither do I. All that I do know is that now your father has a chance at living. And I think it would do him a world of good if you'd go see him."

"Nonno, I--,"

"This is not up for discussion young lady," John stood up, "I'll have David take you immediately. Be ready in ten minutes." And with that he left.

Kalista's hand flew to her neck, her thumb stroking the set pendant on the chain that David brought for her. She looked up at the sky, "Thank you."

-

David stood at the end of the stairs waiting for Kalista. When she finally emerged from her bedroom he took a double take. Far from the girl he had seen cry and scream at anyone for any reason stood the young woman he had grown to love. He had always known that Kalista was a knockout but when she got all dolled up, good grief.

There she stood, her brown skin gleaming wearing a single shoulder poncho with a pair of jazzy slacks. Her feet held a pair of 3 inch stiletto boots in the same cream color as her top. Her hair was down the way he'd always loved it and floating down past her rounded bottom yet her best accessory of all was that big ear to ear grin she was sporting.

"David," she said softly snapping him into reality, "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, uh--," he looked down at his image of innocence before him and smiled, "Want to take the limo tonight?"

"Hell no!" she said, "I want to take the Jaguar," she jingled the keys in her hand with a grin, "I'm driving, let's go."

Dave watched as the giddy girl ran past him and looked upstairs to where Nonno Cena was standing watching them.

"What did you say to her?" Dave asked curiously. It had been well over a week before he had seen his dysi the way he'd remembered her.

Nonno shook his head, "I told her the truth."

"You told her her father was--,"

"She's waiting for you David," he said. "Tell you what, before you take her to see her dad why don't you drive around a while? See if she can handle what we're getting ready to spring on her."

David just nodded. He knew Kalista, he knew her better than most people in her family. He had a vested interest in her safety, in her well being but these days, especially her heart. He had watched her heart be broken these last couple of days and he would be damned if he ever did anything that would cause her that kind of pain.

-

Adam stood over Chyren's body and stared at him. In all honesty he loved this man, he did. He just couldn't stand his daughter. If he could, he would gladly wrap his hands around her neck and watch joyously as the emasculating bitch died in his arms. But that would have to wait for another time.

"Old man," Adam chuckled, "old man. Randy said there wasn't lying when he said there wasn't a single person a bullet couldn't stop. Adam shook his head; it was just too bad Randy doesn't follow fucking directions well.

"Randy what the fuck man?!" Adam cried. "This was not a part of the program."

Randy leaned back and lit a Black 'n' Mild, "You're making too much of this Copeland," he took a drag, "If you would look at the full picture you will realize I just did your ass a favor." He took a drag, "And it there's anything you know about me is I don't give favors often."

Adam nodded his head. That was true. He had known Randy all of his life. It was because of Randy that he got hooked up with Chyren in the first place. They were supposed to rob the man but Dave fucked up and chickened out. When they got this cushy set up, Adam swore to pay Randy back. And the price was high as hell.

"Randy, I know how you operate, but for the love of God, you have to explain this to me."

Randy took a sip of his Jack Daniels, offering Adam a glass. As if Adam would turn down a drink of any sort. "You want this red head broad out of the ape's arms and into yours, right?"

"Of course," he looked at Randy as if he was growing an extra ear or something, "she's my fiancée. Or at least she's supposed to be. What did you see in her bedroom anyway?"

Randy waved that off, "Stay on subject Copeland, damn." He shook his head and took another drag.

He could've easily told Adam what the issue in the bedroom was, but there was a reason he waved that off. Randy was nothing if not a business man; and if Adam couldn't get with it, he would make due with Kalista, David or Chyren and make his millions that way.

"I just shot her father. She's going to be vulnerable and upset. All you have to do is be there and be her rock."

Adam balked at that, "I'm not going to be no sappy ass punk like that motherfucker."

"Yeah but that motherfucker very well may be fucking our meal ticket so your punk ass had better get with the fucking program."

Randy was no fool. If it were up to him, he would've been wined, dined and 69'ed the little red head bitch. Sure she was tall and a helluva lot thicker than he was used to. He liked his broads slim, trim and petite. But this bitch was like one of them bread and butter chicks. Not that he minded, he would've boned her, and been spending her millions like money was going out of fucking style.

"Are you feeling this bitch?" Adam asked shocked.

Randy scoffed, "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."

"I can't believe he shot you," Adam whispered, "That bullet so wasn't meant for you."

Just then a nurse came in to check Chyren's vitals, "Isn't it cool that now that he's viable he can hear as if he were conscious?"

-

Kalista was having a blast and tearing the streets of New York apart as she did. David didn't say anything to her because she appeared to be enjoying herself but he prayed to the heavens if God would just let him out of this alive he would never get in to a car that she was behind the wheel of again.

"Lista, don't you want to slow down just a little?"

"What?" she looked over at him, her blue eyes filled with innocence, "I'm only going," she looked down at the speedometer, "80."

David felt himself chanting that familiar mantra, "We're going to die, we're going to die. We are sooooo going to die."

"Stop being such a pansy," Kalista laughed at him, "We're not going to die."

"You know I'm old," Dave patted his heart, "my heart can't take it."

"You said that when I bought this car." Kalista said.

Yeah he had. But who could blame him? He had come out to a sight that would've killed a fifteen year old kid much less a 34 year old man.

He had come out for his normal jog to find a new car in the driveway. He smiled; Kalista always did have impeccable taste. He walked around the car to get a better look at the silver/black Jaguar XKR. The car was gorgeous but that isn't what nearly stopped his heart. He had spent so much time staring at the car that he hadn't noticed that it was wet. By the time he had he was face to face with his best wet dream.

There Kalista was, bent over a bucket of soapy water. Her hair looked like at one point it was up in a ponytail but no longer. She was wearing a pair of grey sweat shorts that looked like if they were any shorter he'd be able to take a picture of her cervix from where he stood. When she got up, he realized she was wearing her head phones and that she hadn't even realized that she was being watched. She was singing along to the likes of Madonna's "Material Girl". She shook and shimmied around, shrieking with happiness as she sprayed the car with the hose, the water shooting back to hit her white wife beater tank, which was already soaked. David could feel himself hardening in his sweats.

He watched painfully as the track in her ears changed as did the movement of her hips. As Adina Howard's "Freak Like Me" blared in her ears Kalista's body took on an entirely different agenda. She began arching her back and grinding her hips as if she was being made love to from behind. David damn near moaned at the sight of her erotic dancing.

"I want a freak in the morning, freak in the evening. Just like me," Kalista sang, "I want a rough neck brother who can satisfy me, just for me. If you are that kind of man, cuz I'm that kind of girl. I got a freaky secret, everybody sang. Cuz we don't give a damn about a thing."

David decided to jog by her before he took advantage of the situation—and her. As he walked by her, she slid her luscious backside against him. He damn near fainted. He pulled her headphone away from her ear, "You can't do that sort of thing. I'm an old man, my heart can't take it."

"Just how long where you standing there anyway?" she asked.

"Long enough to know that you were a material girl and one helluva dancing freak," David said with a smile.

Kalista felt a blush creeping up from her neck remembering the day she thought she was alone, "You know you shouldn't spy."

"Spying on you is kind of my job dysi,"

Kalista just rolled her eyes as she turned up their favorite slow jam station. She closed her eyes slightly, "I love this song,"

"Kalista you're such an old soul," David smirked at her.

"Whatever you say, I love this song." Kalista began to sing. Her lacy voice wafted across the car and made David just sit and stare at her, "I like, kicking it with you, you and me, getting it on. So baby, slide a tape in boy. You know and play our song, chillin', riding to the music, the laid back look. When I'm with you,"

"Kalista, you want to shoot some pool with me?"

"Shouldn't we go see Daddy first?"

David thought about it, "Good idea,"

-

When they arrived to the hospital David allowed Kalista to go up to her father's quarters without him. Had he been thinking, he wouldn't have done that. As she walked toward her father's room she felt someone watching her. She turned around and saw him; she had almost wet her pants. There they were, like from her nightmares; those same cold, hateful blue eyes. She was 11 all over again.

She shook it off and continued on her journey, just in time to hear Adam uttered the words that shook her to her very roots.

"I can't believe he shot you," Adam whispered, "That bullet so wasn't meant for you."

Kalista placed her hand to her neck, as if trying to choke down the bile and fright. How had he known the sex of the shooter and who that bullet was meant for?

And if not for daddy, then just who in the fuck was it meant for?