“Where have you been?”
Hunter sounds furious with the both of us as we walk in from the garage. He looks like he’s been waiting by the door for us to come in. “We stopped for ice cream,” Alicia tells him. “It was yummy.”
“So you won’t need dinner then?”
“Well, maybe not yet.”
“Any homework?”
“Just to read ten pages of Harry Potter. It’s easy. I read twenty every night before bed.”
“Then you go do that.”
She runs off upstairs. Hunter’s blazing eyes fall on me. “You could have been kidnapped, murdered, crashed the car. I had no idea where you were.”
“And I have a dead cellphone battery and no way of charging it, so that’s on you.”
He curses under his breath. “You will have a new phone tomorrow morning. It’ll be secure with a tracker, so I know where you are while working for me.”
“Wow, paranoid much?”
“I need to know my daughter is safe.”
“Your daughter told her last nanny about being picked on, and she did nothing about it. Did she tell you?”
“Not a word.”
“Why did she quit?”
“Because she learned a few things about me and got scared, ran off like they all do eventually.”
“You mean she wanted to tell you about what was happening to your daughter, and you scared her so much she couldn’t do it? Look at what your temper does, Hunter. You could have dealt with all this sooner and made Alicia happier if you’d kept control of yourself. Maybe consider that next time you yell at the two of us when we come home.”
He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then he simply turns away and walks off, turning into a room a few seconds later, the door slamming after him.
“Bye, then,” I say as Jeremy emerges from the same room. He looks me up and down and then vanishes down the corridor.
I need to make sure Alicia is all right. I head up to her room and find it easily. I hear her singing Bat Out of Hell loudly, the sound carrying down the stairs to me as I climb.
I stick my head in, knocking lightly. “How’s it going, kiddo?”
“I’m stuck with this word. Can you help?”
“How are you reading with the music that loud?”
“Helps me think.”
“And you were singing along.”
“I can do two things at once.”
I turn the music down a little before joining her on her couch. “Let’s have a look,” I say, glancing down at the page. “Disconnected.”
“The phone was disconnected,” she repeats. “I get it now. You want to hear me read?”
“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”
She beams up at me.