Sex and Radio (Book 2)Completed||

11

I clapped my hands the loudest and stood on my feet as my father's lecture concluded. My father stood in the middle of the brightly lit stage with grace and elegance. Despite the tattoos, rough appearance, and scruffy beard. I had to admit he cleaned up nicely. No matter what he wore.

He waved to the crowd grinning and thanked them all for coming out to hear him speak. Students, professors, and even old fans lined the stands to get a glimpse of the man I called Dad. Several older women broke away from the fleeing audience and strode toward my father with purpose. They immediately approached him like he was an old friend they hadn't seen in years. And maybe in their eyes, he was. With determined smiles on their faces, they pulled out old, worn-out copies of his books and presented them to him.

He beamed with pride. As he signed each book, took pictures, and then waved them away. He always had this generous way about him with his fans. If they approached him on the streets or in the store, he took his time with them. He laughed with them and hugged them. He knew he was important to them and he wanted to make a difference. Understanding his work was important to them. Or in reality----they wanted to do disgusting things with him and I refused to speak about or think about. It's gross beyond comprehension.

I walked across the room, as my father set his microphone down onto a stool. The other guests had filed out of the lecture and it was just me and him.

"Nice speech. Can I have your autograph?" I asked through a grin as he turned his enormous frame in my direction. A smile exploded on his face and in three strides he closed the distance. Wrapping his arms tightly around my body and he squeezed me tight. Almost forcing the breaths from my lungs. I wrapped my arms around his body and buried my nose into his chest. My protector. My father. No matter what happened in this world, I had him. Always.

"Anything for my favorite daughter!" He teased kissing my hair. I smiled. My thoughts drifting back to the previous conversation I had with him on the phone. When he had stolen my pleas from Kaycee thinking I was some boy calling her at 3 in the morning.

Kaycee's words came to mind from that night. Her warning and concern. 'Somethings wrong with mom.' Speaking of her, she usually came to these things with him. We always went to dinner afterward as a family and caught up before he went back to town.

"Where's mom?" I asked scrunching my brows studying his unchanged expression. His smile never wavered and his hug never ceased.

"She has the flu, felt like shit, and Kace is taking care of her." I blew a breath from my lips and nodded. Would my Dad lie to me? Would he seriously say that to my face if it wasn't true? I couldn't tell. He's too good at this. Too good at keeping his cool under scrutiny. His expression didn't change and he seemed as happy as ever. No worries in the world for him.

"Well, it's weird to see you here without her. Has she been sick for long?" I asked trying to keep my serious worry at bay. I needed to press the issue with him and keep at it to break him down just a little if I wanted answers. Real answers.

Something foreign flashed in his ocean eyes. I couldn't quite place the raw emotion. Maybe it was a flash of "oh no". Or maybe it was a hint of regret. As quickly as it flashed in his eyes. It left without a hint it had been there, covered by the laid back mask my father wore so well. He always had a knack for masking his emotions to everyone around him. Never letting anyone worry about him or how he felt. My father squeezed me lovingly and placed another kiss on my forehead. As if I were his little baby girl standing in front of him instead of his adult daughter.

"It's the flu, Cals, she'll be better in a few days. Kace is there to replenish her Sprite and crackers. You worry too much." He pulled back and lifted an eyebrow at me. Signaling to me that this was the end of this conversation and he didn't have to tell me twice. I couldn't protest any longer and let the mystery of my mother's issue linger.