Free Dark And Dangerous by Faye Sommer

movement behind the door. A chain rattled as
the door opened, and a bloodshot eye peaked out.
      "What do you want?" a drunken
slurry voice asked. The smell of alcohol reeked from him.
      "Dad, it's me, Kayley." She wasn't
surprised that he hadn't recognized her.
    For a moment he just
looked at her, as if unable to even recall the name. Then his small blurry eyes
focused.
      "Bitch," he spat out.
      "Now, hold it." Nathan stepped
protectively in front of her. "We didn't come here to listen to any name
calling. We're here to find your son."
      "Who are you?" he asked, watching
Nathan with malice in his eyes.
      "I'm Nathan Sanders."
      "Are you the whores boyfriend?"
    Barely able to control the
rage that ripped through him, Nathan clenched his hands. "Your daughter is
not a whore, and don't ever call her that, or anything else except her name
ever again. You got that?"
      In answer Stan spat after him. That was a big
miscalculation from his side.
    Before he realized what
was happening, Nathan smashed the door open, knocking him off balance.
      Kayley watched in shock as Nathan grabbed her
father by his tattered T-shirt, and pulled him up on his toes.
      "It's your luck that I don't want Kayley
to see me beat up her father, because you deserve everything I would give you.
But I'll tell you this, if you so much as look at her the wrong way, I'm going
to forget all my good intentions and give you what you deserve. I swear
it."
    Even through his drunken
mind, Stan knew Nathan was telling the truth. Slowly he nodded.
      "Good." Releasing him, Nathan
stepped back. "Now that we've got that straight why don't you tell us
where your son is. "
      "My son?" he asked, seemingly
confused.
      "Yes," Kayley stepped forward
again, "my brother Joe."
      "I don't know. I can't remember the last
time I saw him." Stan's eyes turned to Kayley. "I heard you some kind
of great artist?"
    Kayley just nodded, unable
to speak. The look in her fathers eyes sent chills down her spine.
      "You make good money? Huh?" He spat
again, but this time only at the floor.
      "What Kayley makes is her own
business." Nathan stepped forward at the flash of temper in Stan's eyes.
      "What she makes belongs to me. I made
her, didn't I?" He gestured wildly. "I deserve it."
      "You don't deserve scratch of what's
Kayley's." Nathan had to struggle as his temper flared violently.
      "I raised her, didn't I? Stan wiped a
hand over his mouth. "Did my best by her."
      "Don't flatter yourself. What you call
your best, I call pathetic." Nathan's hands clenched dangerously. He was
on the verge of losing his slippery grip on his normally fierce self-control.
      "What the hell do you know. I had to teach them some respect. The little shits deserved everything they
got. She's a whore. Just like her mother."
      Nathan struck Stan so hard that he stumbled
back, crashing against a dresser and would have hit the ground hard if Nathan
hadn't jumped forward, with the speed of a panther, and grabbed his shirt. He
yanked Stan to his toes.
      "I told you not to call her that
again." It took every ounce of Nathan's control not to hurt him. "I
meant it."
    Stan struggled futilely
against his grip.
      "Don't ever call her that again, or I
swear it will be the last thing you say." Nathan shoved Stan back, making
him stumble back, and grasp at the wall to steady himself. He staggered over to
a table to grab a stale beer and empty it with a few long swigs.
      "So Joe hasn't been in touch with you
recently?" Nathan asked, his voice vibrating with control. But Stan was
too busy opening another beer to answer. "Stan," he said, trying to
get his attention.
      But Kayley's father seemed oblivious to their
presence now, as he downed the second beer.
      Realizing it was futile trying to talk to
him, Nathan turned back to Kayley. He could see her pain written clearly in her
eyes, and just barely prevented himself from pulling her close. This wasn't the
place for it, he thought, and