You, And No Other. Lynda Sandoval

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      “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” he said finally, through clenched teeth.

      Play dumb. Her gaze strayed to the books in her lap, then back to his face. “Homework, Chief?” Pretty pathetic that she couldn’t bear to call her father by anything but that. Any affection she’d felt for the man had died long ago. Dad? Daddy? Those words meant nothing to her. Some kids got lucky. Other kids got out.

      “Don’t get smart with me.” He yanked the little pillow out of the ruined drywall and whipped it across the room. “You know what I’m talking about.”

      Uh-oh. She managed a tight swallow. She probably did know. Still, the prom wasn’t until tomorrow night, and it could be any number of perceived transgressions. No sense showing her hand prematurely. “If you’ll just tell me—”

      “Prom, Cagney.” Chief started pacing—no, stalking—around the room, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Your lies, Cagney. That little Eberhardt dirtbag, Cagney,” he spat, his tone icy and derisive. “You thought I wouldn’t find out?”

      Hopefully? Well, at least not until she chose to tell him. She decided to consider his question rhetorical and not address it at all. “It’s just a dance.” She struggled to keep her tone light, to avoid pleading. “We’re school friends, that’s all. If you’d give Jonas a chance—”

      “Damn it! Are you stupid?” In two strides, he loomed over her. “I forbid you to go with that criminal, do you understand?”

      It took a moment for his words to sink in. “But—””

      No!” He cut off her protests with one slash of his hand through the air. “After all I’ve given you, all I’ve done for you, now this? I’d expect this kind of sneaky behavior from that worthless sister of yours, Terri. But I thought you were following in Deirdre’s footsteps.

      “Deirdre, the “good daughter.” She’d gone off and joined the FBI, making Chief proud. Cagney pushed back her initial shock that he’d even mentioned the “bad daughter,” Terri, who had defied him to run off to New York City two years earlier. Since then, no one was allowed to utter her name in his presence. Apparently the unfair rule only applied to the rest of them. “I’m not following in anyone’s footsteps, Chief. I have my own path. I’m just me.”

      He barked out an evil laugh. “Well, let me tell you how things are going to be, ‘just me,’” he said with a sneer, “because I’m going to give you a chance to redeem yourself. You have a choice.”

      A choice? Wow, a first. She gulped. “Okay.”

      “You either go off to your prom with that Eberhardt bastard, or you don’t.”

      She blinked. “W-what do you mean?”

      “I mean, instead, you’ll go with someone else. Someone I approve of.”

      Too easy. Had to be a trap. She bit one corner of her lip and took a moment to consider what exactly he was up to, but couldn’t figure it out. “Then, if that’s my choice, I’ll go with Jonas.”

      A slash of a smile split his stern face. Not a real smile, of course. She didn’t remember him ever truly smiling. “Great. Go off with your little hoodlum.” A long, thick pause ensued. “But you’ll see no money from me for your college education if you do. Not a dime.”

      Her stomach churned violently. “Chief—!”

      “Those are the terms.” He let them sink in. “Because I’m a nice guy, I’ll give you one more chance to make a different choice, and that college education you dream of can be yours.”

      To her horror, the churning rose to her throat, and she thought she might be sick right then and there. How could she choose between those awful options? Jonas or college? Bottom line, she needed the Chief’s financial backing to get to college, and she desperately needed college for her freedom and sanity. It was too late to apply for financial assistance. Even loans, at least for the first semester, and her dad made too much money for her to qualify for any grants. But she couldn’t bear another six months at home. She had to start classes on time.

      And yet, she needed Jonas for her sanity. Prom without Jonas? Her heart rattled.

      Sure, he lived in a trailer on the far side of Troublesome Gulch with a single mom who spent too much time in the bars—the ultimate hard-luck cliché—but so what? Should he be punished for that?

      Jonas was the best person she knew. Thoughtful, observant, supportive, unassuming. He rose above his circumstances with dreams and goals and the resiliency to make them come true.

      He wanted to write and had already composed raw, poignant, honest poetry she kept hidden in a box at the back of her closet. Aside from Mrs. DeLuca, the art teacher at school (and also her friend Erin’s mom), Jonas was the only person in the world who believed Cagney could succeed as an artist and could use her talent to help others.

      He inspired her.

      He loved her.

      Jonas knew more about her and her farce of a home life than even her best friends. She glossed over most of that with the girls out of sheer embarrassment, but she told Jonas everything. They’d been forced to sneak around for years now, thanks to Chief’s discrimination against anyone he deemed unworthy. As far as he knew, she hadn’t been hanging with Jonas since before sophomore year, while in fact, she and Jonas had been in love since then.

      They’d simply become experts at hiding.

      Her rebellion was alive and well, but unequivocally passive.

      She and Jonas had decided the prom would be their one out-in-the-open hurrah in Troublesome Gulch, a night just for the two of them and to hell with her father. They had the whole thing planned. They’d present a united front to Chief, lay out their case with cool logic, refuse to take no for an answer, and he’d eventually relent. What else could he do? Cagney was almost eighteen. It was supposed to be a magical night. Cagney and Jonas, just like fate intended.

      Oh, how she’d underestimated her father. He’d rather deny her an education than see her happy with someone who didn’t meet his approval.

      “Well?” Chief growled.

      She worried her bottom lip between her teeth.

      Jonas was a long-term, big-picture type of thinker, though. Who cared about one night, one dance, in the grand scheme of things, when they had their whole future? She could explain the situation; he knew what Chief was about. Knowing Jonas, he’d probably encourage her to jump through her father’s stupid hoops. The most important thing was getting to the university where they’d both been accepted, where they could spend every day together.

      Jonas would get it. She just had to talk to him.

      Her tension eased. “Fine. I’ll call Jonas and—”

      “Absolutely not.”

      Her eyes widened. “What?”

      “I forbade you from talking to that hoodlum years ago, and although you disobeyed my orders without any СКАЧАТЬ