Forbidden

A Shift in the Balance

Van

The walls rattled around Van as the door to her father's office slammed shut, but after hours of repeated incidents, she no longer flinched. Not that anyone would notice flinching beneath the blankets piled on top of her. At first they'd felt like heaven- a warm, blissful cocoon that pulled her back into sleep's arms, but she woke up drenched in sweat. The glacial glare sent her way by her father when he found her pushing them off was enough to make her pull most of them back up to her chin.

"In all my years with your father, I've never seen him so emotional."

Gabriella pressed her shoulder into the doorway and folded her arms over her expensive breasts. Her face was too plastic to show any emotion of her own, but there was a calculating light in her green eyes that made Van shudder. It was like finding a murderer hiding in a house you thought was vacant- shocking and terrifying.

"I suppose getting a call that your recently discovered daughter has almost died will push most people over the edge. Even old Abe. Guess the tin-man has a bit of a heart."

Van spoke callously, but even she had been caught off guard by her father's fury when he arrived on scene. If Isaiah had been conscious, she had no doubt Abe would have rectified the situation. He hovered near her the entire time the EMTs looked her over, making her and them nervous, but when they tried to load her into the ambulance, he stopped them. Their protests went unheeded, and she found herself put in the backseat of his car, his touch almost tender as he buckled her in and smoothed back her hair.

"Your desperate need for attention must be a trait you inherited from your mother."

"Excuse me?" Van wormed her way to an upright position. "You didn't know my mother so you just keep your mouth shut."

Gabriella sniffed and toyed with the end of her hair. Round and round she twirled her finger, winding the dark strands around the slender digit until it pulled so tight her finger paled from loss of blood flow. Then, she reversed directions, tugging on the tip before repeating the process. It was textbook behavior for an airhead, but Van was no longer so certain her step-mother was an empty headed doll.

"Gabriella, I thought you were at the lake house," Abe said, coming down the hall. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his hair was disheveled. Before his wife could reply, he noticed Van sitting up. "You need to cover up."

"I'm hot," Van admitted, unwilling to return to the sweltering heat.

"Do you have a fever?"

He was at her side, his hand pressed against her cheeks and forehead before she could respond. Whatever he felt must have eased his concern, but then he zeroed in on her arm. She glanced down to see what bothered him so and found tiny cuts and large bruises all along the skin. Her knuckles were shredded and swollen. And then, as if her awareness of the injuries activated her nerve endings, everything started to throb.

"I've got some salve in my office. It will speed the healing process."

"I'm fine," she said in a rush, remembering the vile stuff Tommy had put on her face after the fight with Bane and his boys. She couldn't be sure it had caused the stomach bug she had afterwards, but she wasn't going to risk it.

"Don't be stubborn right now, Van," Abe said, but he didn't get up to move. He held his face in his hand and took deep, steadying breaths.

"Are you...angry with me?"

It shouldn't matter if he was or not. She didn't care what her father thought about anything, and it was his pet that had caused the accident. But it seemed their earlier moment outside had weakened something in her.