"Valen! It's me, your dadda!" I heard the familiar voice, and when I unlatched my eyes, my nerves calmed down instantly.
"Dadda!" I sighed, slipping into his arms immediately.
Damn! I was badly freaked out. I need to keep my imaginations in control, or else they will become the death of me someday. After staying there in his arms for some time, as I detached myself, he gave me a narrowed gaze. "Where were you, baby? Do you know how concerned I was for ya? You have never been out for so long. What made you do so?" he shot his back-to-back questions at me, giving me no chance to clarify myself.
I can't tell him the truth. He will not only be concerned about my shoulder that has gone totally numb—I can't even feel whether I have it or not! But he will also complain to Alpha about Ryley and his gang, and I know Alpha will not entertain this shit any more.
"Uhh! Dadda, I was in the library helping Mrs. Bennett, our librarian, with the books. We were talking and lost track of time. She is very sweet, you know. I love her," I lied. The smile on his face said he believed me.
I hated the fact that every time I am bullied or hurt, to overcome it, I have to lie to Dadda; otherwise, he will be more hurt than me, and I can't see that. He is my only family. Dadda kissed my forehead, gently caressing my cheek, "Valen, so unfair! You know your dadda waits for you at the supper table. He cannot eat without you! Just look at you; you are looking so tired."... He gently pressed my hurt shoulder such that a painful wince escaped my mouth.
He quickly withdrew his hand, astonishingly gazing at my shoulder, then at me. I know what was coming my way, and to avoid it, I hurriedly answered, "Uhh, dadda, both my hands are aching. I had to keep so many books on the higher shelves again and again. Can we please go home so that I can take a good shower, please?" I batted my lashes until he nodded yes.
He moved his head up and down, conceding. I hugged him in reflex, and we initiated our walk towards the car. There was still a hint of suspicion in his eyes. I know he was not satisfied with my answer. He is a doctor, a well-experienced senior doctor who can tell who's injured or sick just by seeing their faces! And here I am, his daughter; how can he not know I am not okay?