Daughters
Daughters
Myra had not seen her father physically since she left the force, and he somehow left too, evading discipline with the help of the Congressman Brienstein’s help, his dark overlord.
She only watched him on TV because he was her biggest rival, and they were put side by side in the media all the time because they were father and daughter.
And now he showed up here?
But when she blinked he was gone.
She frowned. Had she been seeing things?
It was dark and all, but she should be able to recognize her own father.
She continued with her speech, but could not smile as brightly even though the crowd cheered louder than they did for her grandfather.
The security officer walked her back till she was inside the building and as she approached the elevator, Cal was beside her.
“Are you okay?” he asked in concern, and she looked up into his eyes.
Of course, he would notice something was wrong with her even though no one did.
“Hold me, Cal.” She said, even as the elevator shot up, and he enveloped her in his arms.
She stayed there, trying not to shake, till the elevator dinged, and she pulled away from his arms as the door slid open.
They walked back into the planning room, which was empty now and dark. And before she saw him, she knew he was here.
She got in front of Cal, pushing him behind her as a light came on, and her father stood there.
“Callaghan,” the man said in a loud voice, his eyes flashing, and she wondered whether he was drunk.
Or had he seen that turnout outside and realized there was no way he was winning this?
“Why do you think it’s right to steal a man’s daughter? Did I give you permission to be with my daughter?”
“I don’t need your permission to do anything,” She spat with such deep hate for this man, as Cal took her hand and moved from behind her to stand by her side.
Her father turned to her with a smile now, and then looked away again back to her.
“You’re just a child, my girl,” he said, staring at Cal with hate now, “I am talking to this exploiter who should know it’s wickedness to want to start afresh with someone as young as you are.”
Myra was about to speak up when Cal squeezed her hand.
“A woman old enough to beat you in politics is old enough to choose her man,” he said in a calm voice.
“What did you just say?”
“A woman old enough for you to pimp me is old enough to choose to be with me.”
Myra grimaced at that.
Those words hurt her, but they were the truth. Her father pimped her out to an unaware Cal, simply to hurt Gilbert Dankworth’s reputation and hers too.
Her father’s eyes went from fiery, to a sad smile as he turned to her.
“Did you hear how he just talked about you? That’s how he would always see you.” He walked close to her now. “As a tiny little whre.”
And Cal was already swinging at him when Myra held his hand, staring into his eyes, silently pleading with him to calm down.
She definitely knew what the man was up to now.
He was indeed desperate and would pull any trick to disqualify her from the race at the last minute, since it was clear now that he could not win.
“Is this trick not too old?” She asked, staring up into her father’s face. “You think you’ll sow dark seeds here, and when you leave we start fighting among ourselves?”
“Open your eyes Myra. You are being used. You are young and wealthy and want to stay with a man that has lived half his life?”
“You are a disgusting hypcrite,” She could not hold back any longer even though she exercised great control over her pitch. “You used me my whole life.”
“I am doing you this one last favor as your father. You have your life ahead of you. Leave this man who would not even be able to give you a child.”
“Get out!” Cal barked. His voice was so strong it startled even Myra.
But her father merely scoffed, “You have a daughter too.” He said, looking at Cal and letting the words hang.
Myra saw the threat for what it was, and Cal was really about to sock him in the face when the door at the far end opened.
They turned to see who it was and when they looked back, Tyson Shaw was gone, as if he had disappeared.
She felt her hand slip out of Cal because he had stopped holding on to it.
She looked at him with a frown as more people began to come into the room.
She already knew what was going on in his mind.
Her father had just managed to hack at a sore point for him.
Cal was so insecure about his age, like he was cheating her off the good things of life. And her father, saying that just now, had probably managed to open the wound she managed to sew shut at the beachfront property.
She sympathized with him, but she really did not see the need for any of this guilt he felt.
She had gotten pregnant after just one day with him, so children would clearly not be a problem for them, except.
She turned away now. Gib had mentioned something about the doctor’s report on her uterus health after her miscarriage.
Only Cal would know the details except she decided to visit the hospital again.
She looked at him now, but he did not look like he was in the mood to speak anymore.
And that continued over the next few weeks.
He would suddenly close up, and get all moody, and it was already beginning to get on her nerves.
How could he let her father get into his head like that?
He finally came out of his moodiness the day of the election, after the results were called out that evening.
Everyone had expected it, but the cheer was still riotous in the campaign office where they all sat to wait for the results.
Cal picked her off the floor in a hug, spinning around with her.
The only person whose joy managed to trump his, was Gilbert Dankworth.
The old man's eyes were teary as he hugged her, and she wondered what it must feel like to finally achieve his long-term goal.
With the influence she would be bringing into the congress house, that bill would not be passed into law.
“Congratulations, Myra,” the old man said, patting her back. “You did well. You did so well.”
“We did well,” she said, as she felt tears slowly beginning to gather in her eyes.
He had saved her with cunning from her father’s trap.
He had made it so easy to beat her father at his own game.