Paint Me Saved ✓ Book 1

43. The rhythmic march for life

Zemira

I liked that our conversation carried a hint of familiarity even though Sam was my newest acquaintance. In the coffee shop where we sat, Sam wasn't a podcaster who interviewed me and I wasn't a celebrity. We were two ordinary people who gabbed about our lives, about obnoxious friends and loving family members.

"...it's not funny." I poked my finger into his arm. "I didn't even know till after the date that the guy came out of his closet an hour back."

Sam heaved, gasping for air from his laughter riot.

"Actually it's funny becau-" His phone rang. "Excuse me, Zem."

Escaping from the chair he sat in, Sam moved over to a secluded side of the café.

As he answered the call, his smile diminished. His face crumpled like a piece of paper when subjected to an external force. Without saying anything, he kept nodding. Several minutes later, he slid the device into his back pocket and walked back, dropping his weight on the chair.

"Sam, is everything okay?"

"That call was from Dave Brenton." He held his forehead over the heels of his palm. "He threatened me. He said not to release your interview or else..."

I had anticipated the repercussions. Even during the interview, part of me was scared. I was challenging the founder of a giant conglomerate that possessed the power to crush me. Dad calculated this risk too.

After all, who would want their son to be painted as a sexual predator in front of the world?

"Let go." I straightened from my seating and tapped on Sam's shoulder.

He looked up from his hand cage. Reddened eyes and pale face met mine. My heart went out to him. Sam's only fault was trying to help me.

"Where are we going?"

"Home."

As soon as I parked the car, Kiera rushed from inside our home. I had called for all possible help, already aware of how Dave Brenton played his game.

"Haley's inside," she said, panting and leaning near my seating as I slid out. "And I've called uncle too. He's arriving soon."

Sam, who sat next to me, didn't pay heed to Kiera's words. Busy chomping on his fingernails, he had his head in the clouds. Softly tapping the car's roof, I regained his attention.

He removed his seatbelt and slid out, resigning his worries with a sigh.

Kiera moved ahead, looking over her shoulder. She was always the protector. The mama bear.

Before I could take another step, Dad's car cruised in, breaks screeching. He had never driven so rashly. In that instance, it felt like the whole world was rushing to end the day. Dad stormed out of the car, shoving the door closed before firing his steps towards us.

"We need to talk." He glanced at Kiera and Sam, delivering a curt nod. Then he turned to my side. "It's urgent, kiddo."

I nodded by when he herded us inside.

Kiera took Sam to Dad's study, assuming we would rejoin them.

To my surprise, it wasn't where Dad and I stormed to. Without uttering a single word, he walked me into a small guest room at the end of the long hallway.

"Is everything okay?" I asked. Dad's silence soured my mouth. "Please say something."

My spine unknotted, pushing me to sit. Since Leo left, I went on to block all channels t that broadcasted the war news. Ignorance was bliss.