"Your father called me this afternoon."
Amy nearly choked on her glass of Sprite when her mother spoke those words. The words she had been dreading to hear since she had returned to Miami, and had sat down to dinner with her that very next day. It was hard enough to figure out the reason why Christian had been acting out of sorts when she'd woken up that morning, but what was even weirder was his sudden change of plans to catch the next flight back to South Beach. They'd had a quick and somewhat quiet breakfast, and then two hours later, they were checking out of their room and boarding their plane. Something had definitely been going on, but she couldn't figure out what. He seemed different in a way. Different from how attentive and paternal he'd been the night before when he was patching up her wounds. She had a bad feeling that things were about to take a turn for the worst.
She tried mercilessly to piece together some sort of reply to her mother's words, but found herself stammering. "Um...h-he did?"
Teresa Gellar sighed deeply, setting her fork down and pausing in her half-eaten steak and mashed potatoes dinner. "Why did you lie to me honey? Why did you tell me you were staying at Courtney's house when you weren't? What made you think you could fly nearly all the way across the country with some strange man?" The woman raised her voice as she continued interrogating her daughter. "Who is he? Do you even know him? Why haven't I met him?"
Amy bit down on her bottom lip, holding back on coming tears. Squeezing her eyes shut, she dropped her fork, placing her head in her hands and trying to block out her mother's voice. She should have anticipated her mother would dole out all those questions the moment she found out. A migraine began taking form in her head. "Mom! Stop! Please stop!" The tears welled up in her big brown eyes and began rolling down her cheeks.
Teresa fell quiet for a moment. Amy was relieved, praying that she had enough sense to leave her alone for now. Unfortunetly, her mother continued.
"I want to know what you were doing in Las Vegas, and I want to know who this strange man is. The fact that you lied to me is unacceptable, and unless you tell me the truth right now, you're not leaving this house."
Her body trembled as she began sobbing softly to herself. She knew there was no way out of this situation, and now, more than ever, she hated her adoptive father. Hated him with every fiber of her being. He was ruining her life all over again. With a sniffle, she slowly raised her eyes to stare at her mother incriminatingly. "Did he even tell you what he did to me? Why haven't you thought to ask me about the cuts on my face, or do you want to see the bruise on my stomach because guess who they were from?"
Her mother's eyes scrutinized her features, scowling gravely. A hint of concern flashed in her eyes. "Your father did that to you or was it that man? I want to know everything that happened in my absence, including what would you compell you to go off with a total stranger without informing me about it."
Amy's brows furrowed. "Mom! It was dad! Christian took care of me!" She shouted. Her eyes widened, suddenly realizing her slip up, but it was too late to take it back. Her mother already knew his name.
Teresa's brows arched in astonishment. "Christian? Is that his name? What did he do? Tell me!"
Her heart constricted in her chest. Her mother yelling at her like this was taking her back to the whole scene on the Effiel Tower, and she couldn't bear to re-live it again. She took in a breath to calm herself before speaking softly. "It's a long story, but even if I told you, you wouldn't understand anyway. You'd find a way to keep me away from him."
"Who is he? You could start by telling me that."
Amy's heart pounded anxiously in her chest. She swallowed the huge lump in her throat as she took in a deep breath to calm herself. "He's...a friend."
"He's a little too old to be your friend, don't you think? Your father told me he had to be at least in his mid-thirties. Where would you have met such an older man?"
She exhaled sharply, saying the first thing that came to mind. "Mom, he's my friend's dad. Not Courtney's dad because you've already met him. He's...Kimber--ly's dad. My friend Kimberly from my acting class. Earlier this week, she invited me to go with her and her dad to Vegas. I was going to tell you, but I knew you'd freak out."
Her mother's brows furrowed incriminatingly. "So you kept it from me all this time? If you had an adult with you on your trip, you should have known I would be okay with it. That is if you would have introduced us beforehand. Why didn't you tell me this?" She shook her head in disbelief, reaching out to take her glass in her hand, bringing the rim up to her lips and taking a sip of water.
A somewhat allieviated sigh escaped Amy's lips, praying to God that her lie would hold out long enough for her mother to drop it entirely. Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "I don't know."
"That's not an answer. Why couldn't you have told me this in the first place? And why on earth would this man have the nerve to hit your father?"
The tears were stung her eyes. "Because he hurt me! God mom! Have you even been listening to a damn thing I've said! Dad hurt me and Christian stopped him! Christian saved me! He took care of me when no one else could. He came to my rescue!" She choked back a sob as she continued relaying the story to her mother, "dad was beating me mom...just like he use to. We were six hundred feet up in the air at the Effiel Tower and dad was there. He hit me mom. He hit me and he knocked me down and...if he...if he had kept hurting me..." Her voice trailed off, breaking down into tears. She couldn't hold it in any longer. The flood gates had opened with no intention of closing anytime soon.
The moment she broke down, Teresa was on her feet and stepping towards her daughter. The woman took her in her arms, allowing her to cry on her shoulder and hushing her cries as best she could. "Shhh, shh. It's okay honey, it's okay. Everything is going to be okay. Your father isn't here, he can't hurt you anymore."
Amy's sobbing only grew when her mother held her in her arms. She felt as though she hadn't been held this way by her in years, and it made it that more emotional for her. Suddenly, nothing mattered to her. Not her adoptive father, not the big secret she was still keeping from her mother, and not even Christian's sudden change of behavior. This was the comfort and reconcilation she had needed from her mother after so long. She didn't want to say anymore, for fear she'd ruin the moment.
"You're going to have to give me Kimberly's number."
Her eyes had been closed, but they instantly came open at those words. She pulled back and looked up at her mother, her brows furrowing inquisitively. "Why?"
"Well to thank her father for what he did. It's the least I could do."
The thought hadn't occured to her that her mother would want to talk to the man, let alone Christian, and if she told her the truth that there really wasn't a Kimberly, she knew they'd be right back at square one. Her heart pounded madly in her chest as she searched for a way out of this situation. "Um, mom? I don't...h-have her number. She has mine...but I don't have hers."
Teresa scowled, her brows stitching together in bafflement. "Well honey, I'd think that if you were such good friends with her and knew her father well enough, you'd at least have her number. She hasn't given it to you in the time you've been friends?"
She shook her head with a woeful sigh, swallowing the huge lump in her throat. "No. She...called me."
Her mother nodded in regard. "I see. Well then, I suppose we'll just have to wait until she calls you again." The woman turned back around to return to her seat. Amy sighed softly, but just when she thought the subject had been dropped, her mother whirled back around to her with a determined look on her face. "You know honey, Kimberly's father could have given me a call to let me know you were safe and sound. Was he unable to get to a phone while you were in Las Vegas?"
Shit, she was caught. "He didn't really have time. We were busy, seeing the sights and everything."
Teresa crossed her arms firmly over her chest. "From one parent to another, I'm sure he would have known that I was worried about you. I would have thought he'd at least alert me of the situation before your father did. There's another thing that also seems a little odd to me..."
Amy's heart was hammering against her chest, so loud that she was sure her mother would hear it and see right through her lies, much in the way she would see through the lies if she'd been connected to a lie detector. She held her breath as she waited for the woman to utter her next words.
"Why would you think I would keep you away from this man? Christian, was it? Why are you so attached to him? I could understand if it was Kimberly that you were worried I'd disapprove of, but why her father? Amy, what is going on? This whole story doesn't seem to make any sense." Teresa shook her head in discouragement, gazing firmly at her daughter. "You're keeping something from me, Amy. I can see it on your face. I want you to tell me the truth."
She cringed, biting down on her bottom lip to hold back the tears that wanted to escape her. There was no way out now. She turned her head away, not having the courage to look her in the eye when she spoke. Her voice shook with emotion, "mom...I'm telling you the truth."
Teresa crossed her arms firmly over her chest. "I don't believe you are. Answer my questions, Amy. Why are you so attached to this man? What happened between the time that you met Kimberly and today? How long have you known Kimberly?"
She shook her head vigorously, bringing both of her hands up to her head. She couldn't listen to this anymore. The more her mother spoke, the harder it was becoming to keep her composure and her sanity together. Then, before her mother even had the chance to debate with her, she pushed up to her feet and strode out of the dining room, heading into the foyer.
"Amy! Where are you going? I'm not done talking to you! Come back here!"
As much as she tried to hold herself together, she couldn't do that anymore either. The tears were already streaming down her cheeks, and continued to fall even as she climbed the stairs to the second floor. She didn't have to look back to know that her mother was trailing behind her. The woman's voice followed her through the foyer and up the stairs, pleading for her to come back. Instead of saying anything in reply, she merely quickened her pace, striding down the broad hall towards her bedroom. She knew that her next plan of action would probably be pointless, but she didn't know what else to do.
"Amy! Come back! I want you to tell me what's going on. I know something is going on. Come back here!"
She shook her head, sniffling softly. Throwing open the door to her bedroom, she stepped inside and grabbed her suitcase she had left beside her bed when she'd come home earlier that day. Hoisting it up onto the bed, she unzipped it, gathered the dirty clothes in her arms and tossed them onto the floor. Dashing towards her chest of drawers, she began yanking them open and tossing clothes and under garments into her suitcase. All the while, continuing to sob softly.
"What do you think you're doing? Why is your suitcase open? Are you leaving?" Teresa marched into the room, hands firmly planted on her hips. "Oh no, no! I'm not letting you out of this house. No!"
Amy whirled around when her mother entered the room, taking her eyes off of her suitcase and staring at the woman intently. "I'm not staying here anymore! I can't take anymore of this! I can't take you bitching at me like this! I'm not a child. I'm almost twenty years old and you won't even let me be friends with whoever the hell I want to." She sniffled deeply, screaming with her next words, "Why can't you just leave me alone!" Turning back to her suitcase, she brought one of her hands up to wipe the tears from her eyes. Striding towards her closet, she took out a few more articles of clothing and set them inside the suitcase.
"I'm not saying you can't be friends with him, but I'd really like to know who he is. If this man had any sense at all, he would have called me---"
"He does have sense! He has a lot more sense than you do, and he treats me the way a real father or parent should treat their daughter! He takes care of me, and..." She choked back a sob, "he loves me."
Teresa's brows arched in surprise. "What about Chris? He's tried to be a father to you so many times, but you don't seem to appreciate a thing he does. You refuse to like him even when he's been nothing but nice and friendly to you. How long have you known Christian? I sure don't think you've known him as long as you have Chris, and you can't say that you have because I would have found out about him a long time ago. What earns him the right to be called your father?"
Her last words were almost like a stab to the heart. She had to get out of there and fast because the longer this went on, the more painful it all became. Metaphorically, she was shrinking smaller and smaller by the minute, and growing even more fragile than she had started out being. If she wasn't careful, she would have an anxiety attack. Turning away from her mother, she dashed back to her chest of drawers and grabbed two pairs of satin pajamas, one black and the other magenta. Her sobbing grew louder the more her mother spoke.
"There's no reason for you to be crying over this. Why are you crying? Why can't you just tell me the truth? Why is it so hard for you to do? I don't believe you don't even have your friend's number. Why is it that you never mentioned Kimberly before? Do you even have a friend named Kimberly? Amy, answer me."
She shook her head vigorously, bringing her hand up to wipe the tears away as her body shook with emotion. "I can't! Just stop! Just stop talking!"
"I will not stop talking. Why can't you answer me these simple questions? What are you hiding from me? I really would like to know Amy, right this minute."
She blinked back the tears in her eyes, grabbing her portable CD player from beside her stereo, a few books from the shelf above it, magazines, and a handful of CDs from her black CD tower. "I'm not hiding anything! Just leave me alone mom! I don't want to talk about this anymore. Please! Even if I told you, you wouldn't understand anyway." Dropping the arm load of objects into the suitcase, she stepped back into the hallway and hurried into the bathroom, collecting her toiletrees from beside the sink.
"What wouldn't I understand? Is there something going on between you and this man that I have yet to know about?" Teresa followed her to and from the bathroom, and before Amy could step back into her bedroom, she took the liberty of stepping into the doorway and blocking her from going any further. "You are not leaving this house! I will not allow it."
Amy fixed her eyes on her mother in an icy glare, her temper boiling to the surface. "Get out of my way!" She shouted furiously.
Her mother shook her head firmly. "I will not get out of your way. You're not going anywhere! You are still my daughter and you're still living under my roof. I still make the rules."
"You're not my real mother!" She screamed, the tears streaming down her cheeks. "I don't need you anymore! I already have someone and they love me. They love me more than you and they actually care enough to let me do whatever the hell I want." Shoving the woman out of her way, she brushed past her and scurried towards her crammed suitcase.
Teresa was not only dumbfounded and infuriated by her daughter's action, but also by her choice of words. For a moment, she didn't say anything, and Amy was thankful for that. At least it gave her a few minutes of peace to close her suitcase, and begin filling her backpack with a few other essential items. Her hairbrush, cosmetics, text books, and an extra pair of shoes. Although her back was turned to her mother, she heard a sniffle that wasn't her own and she realized then that the woman was beginning to cry.
"Who? Christian? How do you know that you can actually trust this man? Amy, you may think of him as a father, but he's not your actual father."
She froze at her last words, her heart skipping a beat and nearly shot up to her throat. Another tear cascaded down her cheek. She swallowed the huge lump in her throat, her heart drumming madly in her chest. Without so much as having to turn around, she could sense that her mother had noticed her tension. It was almost telepathic. She exhaled sharply, shook her head, and sniffled audibly in a vain attempt to cover up the overwhelming tension of the moment.
"Amy..."
Amy said a silent prayer in her head as she zipped up her backpack and turned around to face her. Her heart pounded fiercely as she stood there, staring back at her mother, dreading that her secret was already out.
"What is going on? I want the truth. I want to know exactly what is going on between you and this man. I will not allow you to leave until I get some answers." Teresa's voice escalated, "do you hear me Amy? You are not leaving!"
A deep and almost allieviated sigh escaped her, but it didn't cause her heart to pound any less. Ignoring her mother's words, she turned back around and grabbed the strap of her backpack, slipping it onto her right shoulder. Grabbing the strap on her suitcase, she lowered it to the floor before grasping the handle and turning back to face Teresa. She sniffled softly, bringing her free hand up to wipe away the stray tears in her eyes. A look of determination was fixed on the woman's face, tears still present within her sorrowful eyes. While it made Amy feel slightly guilty, she'd feel guiltier if she told her the truth. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I have to mom. I can't stay here anymore. If you love me, you'll let me go. I need to leave and nothing you say or do is going to stop me."
Teresa slowly shook her head, planting her hands firmly on her hips. "No, I will not allow it. Where are you planning on going anyway? To Kimberly's house or to Courtney's? The least you can do is tell me where you're going. If you want to take a few days to spend at a friend's house, I might allow it, but if you're planning on staying somewhere else where I won't be able to get a hold of you, well you can forget it."
She sighed irritably, not missing a beat when she spoke. "I'm going to Kimberly's!" At least if she left her mother with the indication that she was staying at this supposed "friend"'s house, she wouldn't be able to get a hold of her because she wouldn't know the number, but she wasn't about to get her hopes up just yet.
"Do you even have a friend named Kimberly?" Teresa pressed.
Amy scoffed with a shake of her head. This had gone on far too long. All she wanted to do was to get out of there, never to look back again. She made a move towards the door but the woman blocked her path once again. "Get out of my way mom!" She shouted. "I'm leaving and you can't stop me!"
"No you are not."
"Yes I am!" She screamed, giving her mother a firmer shove than before and breezing past her out the door. The suitcase moved swiftly along behind her as she stalked towards the stairs, still disregarding her mother's demands for her to come back. Once she reached the landing, her hand grasped the strap of the suitcase and proceeded to lug it down the stairs as quickly as she could muster, but with all the stuff she'd crammed into it, it was harder than she thought.
"Amy! Come back here right now!"
She was halfway down the stairs when Teresa appeared at the top of the landing. Sighing in frustration, she tugged a little harder on the suitcase until she finally just gave up and let go, letting it tumble the rest of the way down the staircase. Stealing a glance up at her mother, she growled irritably before whirling back around and dashing down the stairs. Stepping down off the last step, she reached down and grasped the handle of her suitcase before reaching for the knob to the front door.
"Amy! Don't you dare walk out that door! Do you hear me? Don't walk out that door!"
Suddenly, the tears began welling up in her eyes all over again. Turning back around, she locked eyes with her mother. The woman was only three steps up from the bottom of the stairs, tears still in her eyes. Amy took in a breath to try and compose herself, but her tears were already on their way down her cheeks. Her voice shook with emotion. "Ever since I turned eighteen, you've been treating me like a child. You've been putting nothing but pressure on me to go out and face the real world, to get a job, to make something of myself, and you've always brought me down. You spend more time with Chris than you do with me, and now that I've finally found someone else who actually treats me like a mature adult instead of an immature teenager, you won't even let me be with them. I don't need you to hold my hand anymore. I don't need you to watch out for me. I can take care of myself, and if I can't...I still have Christian. He'll take care of me because he loves me...for me."
She choked back a sob. It took all of the strength inside her to utter her last words, "even if he doesn't love me...I know he'd never force me into anything." Gradually, she turned back to the door and pulled it open but paused at the sound of her mother's voice.
"Amy!"
She sniffled softly, looking back at her with a deep scowl. "I'm sorry mom. I just need to be alone right now." Without giving her mother the chance to say anymore, she stepped out into the chilly night air, a light breeze caressing her face and enveloping her petite frame. She shut the door behind her. It all seemed so final. She felt almost like a convict, finally stepping out into the world after being shut away in a prison cell for years that seemed to stretch on forever, wondering when she'd ever get to see the light of day. Without so much as a look back, she marched towards her car and loaded her suitcase and backpack into the passenger's side. All the while, praying her mother would not appear on the door step and demand she come back inside.
As she slipped behind the wheel of her VW bug, she found herself wiping the tears from her eyes before turning the key in the ignition. The engine purred and the radio came on, the sounds of Michelle Branch's song, "Goodbye To You" drifting out of the speakers. Her heart constricted in her chest overhearing the lyrics to the track, and realizing the irony of the song to be playing at that moment. The tears continuing down her cheeks even as she pulled out of the driveway and pulled onto the road.
"How the hell did you get my number?"
It had been a tough enough day for Christian already. He could barely focus on anything at work, and his distant attitude hadn't gone unnoticed by Sean. Rather than explain the reason for his sudden change of behavior, he hadn't been in the chatting mood. More so, he wasn't in the mood to get a lecture from him for what he'd done to the abusive asshole back in Las Vegas. After all that happened, he would be happy never to lay eyes on the bastard or hear from him again, but unfortunetly, that no longer seemed like a possibility. He'd only been home for half an hour when his phone rang, and whom do you think was on the recieving end of the phone? None other than Frank Gellar. His first initial reaction had been to hang up on the man. However, he had a looming feeling that things were about to go from bad to worse.
"A friend of mine had some work done in Miami a few months ago. His surgery was done by a surgeon by the name of Christian Troy. When I gave him your description, well you can't be that stupid. He knew exactly who you were. And don't assume I wouldn't remember your name after my daughter practically screamed for you to come to her rescue."
He took in a breath to calm his rising temper, fixing his icy cold gaze on the large window across from him, almost as if the bastard were standing before him. "She's not your daughter anymore asshole, and if you insist on harassing her with anymore phone calls or come anywhere near her again, the last phone call you make will be to your God damn lawyer to bail your ass out of jail!"
Frank laughed dryly, almost as if Christian's petty threats were nothing but a joke. "Keep talking, go right ahead, but while we're on the topic of lawyers, you might want to give yours a call because I have legal rights to sue you for everything your pathetic little business is worth. That assault you made is grounds for a lawsuit you son of a bitch."
He exhaled sharply, his blood boiling with each passing minute. He should have seen this coming. This was getting to be a regular pain in the ass for him. He and Sean had been threatened to be sued more times than he could count over the last couple of years, and there was only so much a person such as him could take before he snapped. "While we're on the topic of assault asshole, you might want to take a look at your own God damn abuse. Domestic violence is grounds for arrest in this and any other state. The abuse on my daughter is all the proof I need to make it known, and if you so much as try to file a lawsuit, the way I mangled your face is only going to look like self-defense."
"I told you before, she's my fucking daughter, and there are other ways to keep her away from you. In fact, by the time I'm through, you will never be allowed to see her again. Not even through plate-glass."
A huge lump formed in Christian's throat. What was the man getting at? Whatever it was, he didn't like the self-assured tone of his voice. He clenched his teeth together, sneering angrily into the phone. "If you ever touch her again, I'll kill you."
"Oh, I'm not going to do anything to her, but her mother will. Once she finds out that this strange man is a promiscuous plastic surgeon who spends his life sleeping with girls Amy's age and snorting cocaine, well Teresa will never let her leave the house again and you won't be allowed within a ten yard radius of her."
Christian's heart constricted in his chest, wondering how on earth this man had picked up on his lifestyle when he didn't even know him. Something wasn't quite right. He couldn't figure out what it was, but before he could question how this bastard had obtained this information, he continued.
"I did my research. I would have thought an arrogant prick like you would figure that out."
Again with the crypticness. He had no clue where Frank obtained his source, but the only thing he could figure was that it had been by word of mouth. Was one of his past one night stands looking for revenge? The last woman who had taken her revenge out on him had been Kimber, but she wasn't the only woman holding a grudge against him. There were far too many possibilities. It could be Kimber, it could even be Gina, or it might just be some random girl he met at a bar. The thought of it only gave him a migraine. Aside from all of this, he knew one thing was for sure, he wasn't going to let a damn thing take his daughter away from him. Or vice versa. He sighed wearily, "all right, what the hell do you want from me? Money?"
"You broke my nose you son of a bitch! I'll call up Amy's mother right now and tell her what kind of man her daughter has been left alone with unless, you fix what you've done to my face. I want a new nose and I want a new face, and you're not going to charge me a fucking dime for it either. My surgery will be free, you got that?"
Christian scoffed with a roll of his eyes. Somehow, the man's demands didn't surprise him as much as he thought they would, but it didn't disgust him any less. "Is that all you want? A God damn nose job?"
"A nose job and a new face. I've been meaning to get a face lift, and now that I've got you right where I want you, I can finally get what I want."
His temper began to get the best of him once again, which caused him to take another calming breath. He wanted to scream at the man. He wanted to call him a selfish, abusive and insensitive asshole and hang up on him without another word. However, there was more at stake here than just his career. Exhaling sharply, he found the nerve to utter the words, "fine, I'll give you your God damn surgery, but after that, you get the hell out of our lives, is that clear?"
"Amy is still my daughter. I don't know who the hell you think you are, but you aren't going to keep me from making contact with her."
"Just try me asshole! You may think you know me, but not a damn thing is going to stop me from--"
"I'll come in for my consult in a few days, until then, this conversation is over."
Before Christian could speak another word, he was met with silence from the opposite end of the phone then a dial tone. The nerve of the asshole. Not only to hang up on him the way he did, but to blackmail him into getting want he wanted, and using Amy to do it. He was furious but he was also discouraged at the same time. He didn't regret what he'd done to the man, but he hated to feel outwitted by anyone. The odds were against him at the moment, and if he hadn't agreed to giving Frank the surgery, he knew that Amy would be taken away from him in a heartbeat. Even faster than Wilbur had. He swallowed the lump in his throat as tears began to well up in his eyes.
A sudden and audible knock sounded, yanking him out of his thoughts. Turning his head towards the sound, a weary sigh escaped him. He collected himself before finding the courage to rise to his feet, leaving the spot where he'd been seated on his bed. As he shuffled towards his front door, he prayed to God whoever it was wouldn't put an even greater damper on his night. Opening the door, he froze when he saw Amy standing there, but it wasn't her presence that made his heart constrict in his chest. It was the melancholy state she was in. Her cheeks were tear-stained, and even as she stared back at him, she looked to be on verge of crying all over again. The tears were already in her eyes and appeared to be ready to fall at any minute.
"Amy, what are you doing here sweetheart?" He asked gently. Stepping closer to her, he set a hand gently on her shoulder and gazed down at her intently, "what's wrong?" A million thoughts raced through his mind at that moment, dreading that her adoptive father had something to do with it, but at the same time, hoping that he was wrong.
The tears rolled down her cheeks as she sniffled softly. She shook her head. "I didn't have anywhere else to go. Can I..." She dropped her gaze down to the suitcase at her side, which he hadn't realized she had brought with her until now. "Do you think I could..." She shook her head once more, almost as if she were deciding against going any further with that sentence.
The fact of the matter was, she didn't need to say anymore. He got the message loud and clear. It was yet another thing that connected them as father and daughter, this almost empathetic bond. He nodded his head in regard, speaking softly, "of course." Bringing one of his hands up, he brushed a few strands of hair out of her face before leaning in and kissing her forehead. "Please, come in." He took hold of her suitcase, offering to help her inside.
She sniffled deeply, trailing behind him and shutting the door behind her. "Are you sure its okay...if I stay here? I just don't want--"
Christian sighed in frustration, setting her suitcase down beside his couch and looking back up at her. "Sweetheart, please. I wouldn't have it any other way." He lowered himself down on the couch, watching her as she wiped the tears from her eyes and set her backpack down on one of the red leather chairs across from him. "Sit down and tell me what happened."
Amy wrapped her arms around herself, inching towards him before she finally sat down beside him. "I...got into a fight with my mom."
As much as he tried to remain calm, he couldn't stop his heart from pounding. He hesitated before uttering the words. "Did you tell her?"
She shook her head. "No, I couldn't." Exhaling sharply, she looked down at her lap. "She said that she got a call from my...well, you know. He told her what happened in Vegas, and she wanted to know who you were. I don't think he told her what your name was, but..." She raised her eyes back up to his anxious ones, "I accidentially let it slip out."
His heart pounded harder in his chest, turning his head away to stare off into space. "Jesus," he murmured.
"Not your whole name," she added quickly. "Just your first name. She doesn't know your last. I didn't let it get that far."
Her mother might not know about him, but if that asshole didn't keep his word, he'd sure be screwed later on. As tempted as he was to tell Amy about the call he'd gotten, he knew that would only make matters worse, for both of them. This was his problem after all, not hers. He could already tell that she'd been through enough hell for one night, and he wasn't about to add anymore to the barrel. He turned his head back to her. "So if you didn't tell her the truth, what did you tell her?"
"Just...that you were the father of one of my friends."
"And she actually bought that lie?"
She averted her gaze back down to her lap, clearly avoiding eye contact with him, but said not another word.
A frustrated sigh escaped Christian, turning his body so that he was facing her. He was becoming more pessimistic by the minute, which was somewhat out of character even for him. If Amy was his daughter, it was time she start being up front with him about these sorts of things, and more than anything, it was time he start acting like a real father. "Tell me. What did she say?"
Amy exuded a sigh of her own, her shoulders rising and falling in a shrug. "She started to believe it, but then...she just..." She shook her head, leaning forward and placing her head in both of her hands. "I really don't want to talk about this right now."
His patience was wearing thin, and that was apparent. "She just what? I want to know what the hell she said. This doesn't just concern you sweetheart, it concerns me too."
She exhaled sharply, bringing her hands down and nodding her head. Looking over at him, she scowled. "I'm sorry. She could tell, that there was something going on between us that I wasn't telling her. She asked me if I was lying about having a friend named Kimberly, and I just got so fed up that I wanted to get out of there. I couldn't take anymore." She looked to be on the verge of crying again, but he could tell that she was holding back.
His brows furrowed inquisitively, the name striking a chord with him. "Back up, who's Kimberly?"
She seemed to freeze up at the question. "She's a friend I made up. I told my mom that you were the father of one of my friends so I just made up someone named Kimber--ly. Kimberly. She's not a real friend of mine. Just someone I made up."
Something wasn't right here. He could clearly sense there was more to the story than meets the eye. He'd noticed her little slip up when she spoke the name. It sounded more as if she were referring to Kimber rather than Kimberly, but how the hell did she know about Kimber anyway? His forehead wrinkled in thought, leaning a little closer to his daughter, and staring intently into her now anxious eyes. Almost if he were looking right through her. "Who are we really talking about here? Kimberly...or Kimber Henry?" His brows arched expectantly.
Amy stammered a reply. "I-I don't know what you're talking about. Kimber Henry? Who's Kimber Henry?"
"Don't play dumb with me sweetheart. Kimber used to be my girlfriend. What I'm wondering is why you'd think to bring her into the conversation? I know we weren't talking about her, but we are now and I want to know why the hell you'd tell your mother that I was her father." His brows furrowed in bafflement, that migraine of his growing worse.
She grunted irritably with a roll of her eyes. "Look, when I said that you were her father, I wasn't talking about Kimber. Yes, I met her the last time I was at your office, but when I told my mom, I wasn't even referring to Kimber. I just said the first name that came into my mind." She shook her head, looking down at her feet. "Maybe I should just go and find someone else to stay with," she muttered.
Christian sighed wearily, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're being far too dramatic. I never suggested you go anywhere. I was only asking because I thought Kimber might have something to do with this little argument with your mother. I didn't realize you two had already met."
Amy took a breath before meeting his gaze once again, tears now streaming down her cheeks. She sniffled softly, nodding her head lightly. "We first met at your office, and then we ran into each other at the mall a couple days ago."
"Have you and Kimber become friends?"
She shrugged lightly, "I don't know if you could really call us friends. I mean, I don't really...know much about her, except that she used to be your girlfriend. That's the only time we hung out though. Why?"
He shook his head. "No reason. It's just that sometimes Kimber tends to get a little...attached. I'm not about to tell you who you can and can't be friends with sweetheart, but she isn't exactly a suitable role model for someone such as yourself."
She seemed to tense up at his words, and averted her eyes to something else in the room besides his face. "Um...why do you say that?"
He exuded a soft sigh. "She's done things in the past, things that I want my daughter to be no part of." He noticed the way in which she seemed to disregard his words, which only caused him to continue on, "look, all I'm saying is that if you insist on hanging around her, don't let her corrupt your better judgement. She's a train wreck, and the last thing I'd want is for you to turn into some God damn porn star with a coke addiction."
She was quiet for a long moment before finally uttering a reply. "I get it." She leaned back on the couch, sighing woefully and staring up at the ceiling, seeming to be lost in her own thoughts. "Could we please...not talk about this anymore?"
Christian could sense that something he'd said had struck a nerve with her, but he couldn't figure out what. Rather than question it as he might normally have done, he decided he'd let it go for now. He suspected that if he pressed her anymore, he might end up driving her over the edge again and if he did that, he could wind up pushing her away from him entirely. "Sure. Have you eaten anything? I could order out some Chinese for us."
She turned her head to look over at him, a woeful expression on her face. Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. There was a slight hesitation before she spoke. "Okay, I guess."
"Unless you're really not that hungry, in which case, I'll just whip something up for myself." He could tell by the hesitancy in her voice that she most likely wasn't. That was fine by him. If he had been in a better mood, he probably would have suggested they go out to eat, but at the moment, he didn't really feel like going anywhere, except to pick up some Chinese and come straight home.
Amy shook her head with a clear of her throat. "No, we could do that. I didn't eat much for dinner anyway, and my mom isn't exactly the best cook. Compared to the chinese food around here, her food tastes like shit."
He chuckled at those last words. It was amusing to hear, seeing as how he would have said something similiar if he were in her position. "All right." He leaned in and gave her forehead a paternal kiss before rising to his feet, prepared to grab his keys and head to the door. "Do you mind staying here while I go out and pick it up? I shouldn't be gone long, but if you'd rather--"
She looked up at him with a shake of her head. "I don't mind. I mean, if it's okay with you, I'll stay here by myself."
The thought occured to him that she might end up snooping around in his personal belongings, and perhaps stumble upon his closet porn collection or something else of that nature, but he didn't think too much of it. She'd probably picked up on his lewd bachelor status before as it is. "Of course it is sweetheart, that's why I asked you." He rounded the couch and strolled towards the door, but paused mid-step and looked down at her once again. "I shouldn't be gone any longer than a half an hour, maybe fourty five minutes, but if for any reason there is an emergency or you need to get a hold of me, call my cell."
She nodded in regard. "I got it."
Leaning down, he gave the top of her head a kiss before continuing towards the door. "I'll be right back." He slipped his black suit jacket on, stealing a glance over at her, "feel free to make yourself at home."
"Thanks."
Stepping out into the hallway, he locked the door behind him. Not that he suspected anyone would break in while he was gone for such a short time, but after one of the first victums of The Carver had come to McNamara/Troy, he wasn't taking any chances.