ARC10

Chapter 14

A fist slammed against a table throws both of us out of sleep. I shoot out of Dean's lap where I dreamed about the night sky, stretching my arms out, and cupping the wind in my hand. My flying dreams are an intense place of joy I float to in particularly peaceful moments of URE life.

Since I haven't been blessed with a good dream in months, I'm bitter for the abrupt awakening. I scan the room with half-lidded eyes, both from irritation and lingering sleep.

Dean leans forward, his arm still wrapped around my shoulders.

"Hi, Dad," he says quietly.

"What in Day God are you doin' with," he points his crooked finger at me, "her?" His old regional accent is out in thick form today. This happens when he's drunker than normal.

I curl my body closer around the bulky arm that is still planted firmly over my shoulders. I smirk dangerously from under it.

This is what you wanted, isn't it, Warren? Isn't this why you've been harassing me all these years? I can feel my blood bubbling like solar flares.

"We're not bothering you here."

"Get her out of my home," he snarls.

"This is my contracted partner," I say with equal snarl in return. "I have every right to be in his quarters." I sit up, but Dean's arm tightens around me. I'm confident he can feel where this conversation is headed.

"Oh, so now you want to get technical with the contract?" Warren spits back, leaning in. "Where was this concern six years ago when you should've fulfilled your duties and left my boy alone?"

I pull my body out from under Dean's arm and push it aside, freeing myself from his restraint.

"I was fighting for the URE militia, just like your son was."

"He wasted the best years of his life, waiting for you to make your God-damned move."

"Dad, enough," Dean warns.

"He should've taken you like I told him to and gotten on with his life."

The heat from my anger chokes the words in my throat.

"He waited," Warren continues, emphasizing the pronoun. "He stayed true to his contract, waiting for you, and wha'cha doin'?"

I blanch, realizing what he's talking about.

"You're sleeping around like the God-damned, high-falutin', ungrateful slut ch'are. It wasn't you who came to comply with your contract on your own. It was me. I had to find you and ge'cha to fulfill yar obligations."

My anger still rides on my shoulders. But now they're slumped with the onset of this newly acquired guilt.

He continues with vigor. "And they found ya, juss where I thought yid be. Whorin' yourself to another man like your slut of a fath—"

"Enough." Dean's thunderous voice shakes me and the rest of the room.

Warren, who is a wet leaf of a human in comparison to his son, holds his ground, staring the younger, stronger, bolder man in the eyes. The old man speaks again. He's softer—he's begging to be heard. "She don't deserve what you have to give."

"That's not for you to decide."

I'm still angry but more confused. The words between them make little sense. Disgusted by Warren Freyer with fresh hate resurfacing, Dean and I storm out. We're halfway absconded before he faces his father. In the most rumbling voice I have ever heard, he says, "You will never talk about me and my partner this way again."

As we march at a brisk pace to the Rotunda, my mind flutters around the information that clicks the floating pieces of individual oddities into place.

"Dean—" I whisper.

"Don't listen to him."

"What does he mean?"

He doesn't respond. I raise my voice louder in case he didn't hear me.

"What does he mean by I'm not deserving?"

"He doesn't know what he's talking about."

"But I don't know what you're talking about."

"It's nothing."

We linger in front of my pod in chilled silence. I open my mouth to rationalize what happened when I realize he's already headed in the opposite direction.

I squeeze through the opening of the door and trudge through the common room to my part of the pod. I pass by Simon's empty cot. Warren's words blast into my world again.

"Just like my slut of a father."

I kick my boots off and lie in my cot, fully clothed and curled on my side. Sleeping with Dean comforted me, but comforts don't last. This night, the night with Kai, and every memory in my childhood has been proof of that fact.

After this night, even the comfort of my father isn't what it used to be.