Six
Caitlin rushed by Vivian on her way through the
kitchen. Vivian threw her arms over her head and screamed, trying to
block out the battle between her niece and the man who had fed them, put a
roof over their heads, and abused them for twenty long years.
Leon stopped on the back porch, already huffing and
puffing and rapidly sobering. He barked sudden laughter at the retreating
girl, aware now of how foolishly he was behaving. "Come back to yer old
pappy!" he called out, mocking himself as much as poking fun at Caitlin's
innocent rage. "Where you running off to?"
He stumbled after her, rubbing the hand she had
punctured with her needle and doubting the wisdom of a chase through the
foothills of the Appalachians. Aging, overweight, and none too steady on
his feet, he'd catch her nonetheless. Caitlin was as fleet of foot as the
deer of the forest, but as much an unthinking creature of habit at her
tender age. He had an idea where she'd go to hide.
"I'm coming, little girl! I'll find you!"
He underestimated the effect his taunt would have on
her. Badly. She whirled about in the middle of the back lawn of a late
September afternoon, screaming with the energy of a nest of riled
polecats.
He didn't expect her to actually use Vivian's little
twenty-two revolver. He should have known better than to corner the
girl. At that particular moment, he had entirely forgotten about the
revolver. The crack and puff of gray smoke brought it quickly back to
mind.
Only fate decreed that the bullet smack home in the
door jamb alongside his head rather than shatter the bone of his skull. A
cloud of splinters stung the side of his face. Leon turned away, blinking
tears against the pain. He touched his injured cheek in amazement, and
his fingers came away bloody. "Why you wild little filly," he murmured in
surprise.
Apprehension tempered his anger. He hadn't meant for
it to go this far. He drank too much, and he was too apt to take what he
wanted drunk. He drank to block out the past and memory of Katrina, and
Caitlin kept dragging it all back into his tormented sphere of
consciousness. If only he would quit confusing the two.
But Caitlin, too, had taken her defiance too far. It
had to be quelled. He dared not relinquish the upper hand in the
household.
Attempted murder raised the stakes a bit, but the
chase was still on.
Horrified by what she had done, Caitlin tossed the
handgun aside and vanished into the trees. It was, in Leon's studied
opinion, a critical error. A second shot would have probably found its
mark, and who would have ever held it against her?
Leon stormed across the back yard after the girl
thinking it would be a rewarding Saturday evening after all. Regardless
of what happened, who could she turn to now? As long as he lived, he
would have his own way with those who depended upon him like a herd of
helpless sheep for their very existence.
Table of Contents
Next Chapter
