Free The Distort Arc: Cape High Books 1-4 (Cape High Series Omnibus) by R.J. Ross Page B

there's no use denying the blood ties.
    He's our father.  Whoop de freaking doo.  (Yes, this calls for ancient sayings to be used.  I don't know why, it just does.  Don't judge me!)  "I don't want to talk to you," I say, starting for the stairs to my room again.
    "Zoe," Sunny says.
    "Where does he get off just showing up here?" I demand, turning on my brother.  "We were here for, like, two years!  But even before that he never recognized us!  And look at him!  It's so obvious--"
    "No one told me," the man sitting on the couch says.  "And you don't tend to catch sight of kids yourself when you're stuck in the cells," he adds.  I don't want to call him "Dad" right now, not even in my mental narrative.
    "What do you want?" Sunny asks, still holding my wrist.
    "Do you want me to be honest?" he asks.
    "Yeah, we do," Sunny replies before I can.
    "I've come here to claim you," Technico says, standing.  "We've got a three room apartment near your new school--or what will be your new school when the building is finished.  We're going to be a family."
    "With a super villan Dad," I say darkly.
    "Ex," he says.  "This is part of my parole."
    "You're telling me..." I start out after the shock has cooled slightly.  It feels like he's slapped me.  "We're just another little job you've got to do in order to keep out of prison?  Pretend to be a father so you're not back behind bars?  We're your tickets to freedom?"
    He's silent for a moment before shrugging.  "Something like that.  Would you rather I lie and say I’ve always wanted children?” he asks before I can punch him.  Not that punching him would work.  “I only just found out about you today.  I found out about a lot of things today--including your mother.”
    I look at Sunny, then back at Technico.  “And?” I prompt.
    “I...”  There’s a look of hesitation in his eyes and he looks away.  “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.  “I’m really, really sorry.”  Something about that tone has me hesitating.  “Now go get your stuff.  We’ve got things to do.”
    I look at Sunny again.  “Do we trust him?” I ask, uncaring that Technico is standing right there.
    “I doubt it.  But I’m sick of sharing a room,” he says.  I nod and head for the stairs, not saying anything to the man that is my father.  I wonder for a moment if we should call Max--then I realize I don’t have a phone, or for that matter, his phone number.  Besides, we’ll see him at school tomorrow.
    Why am I so intent on keeping him updated, anyway?  It’s not like we’re dating!
    “We need to talk,” Sunny hisses as he follows me up the stairs.
    “He can probably still hear us,” I say.
    “I can,” I hear him say from downstairs. 
    “That’s really annoying,” I call back as I head for my room.  My duffel bag is still packed, so all I have to do is grab a few other things I would have left behind earlier and head for Sunny’s room to see how he’s doing.
    “Should we really be doing this?” Sunny asks me as he finishes packing.
    “He’s on parole,” I say.  “He won’t do anything stupid.  I’m not saying I like it--“
    “Just the other day you were plotting exactly this!” he says.
    “Yeah...”  I feel like I was an idiot yesterday.  But even as I think that, a tiny part of my heart is starting to be filled with hope.  That’s probably the worst thing it could do.  I’m trying to shove it down, but it’s not working very well.
    “Maybe--maybe we won’t have to worry about hiding it so much now, though,” I say.  “Even if he doesn’t like us, even if we’re just a job to him, at least he knows what we are.  Maybe he can help us... figure it out,” I say.
    Sunny doesn’t look too impressed with the idea.  "Fine," he says, slinging his bag over his shoulder.  "Let's go."
    "I wish I could call Max," I find myself blurting out.  He stares at me blankly.  "I mean--what if something happens?  How do we know we can--"
    "You