Piston by Andi Rhodes

Prologue

_{All I’ve ever wanted was to make it on my own, make a name for myself that has nothing to do with my last name or the palms that my father can grease.}

Holland

“Idon’t know how you do it.”

I lift my eyes from the album in my hands and turn to Gary, my photographer. His look of amazement is familiar. It’s one I’ve seen on the faces of many others, of those who never understood how a ‘girl like me’ could report such news.

“How I did it.”

His brow creases. “Huh?”

“You mean, you don’t know how I did it.” I lift the book that holds every single article I’ve ever written. “All of this? It’s the past.”

“It’s just a break, Holli,” he says with forced enthusiasm. “Take the time you need to help your dad and then you’ll be back.”

I smile at him, but it’s not real. There’s nothing happy about any of this. All I’ve ever wanted was to cover news stories that other journalists are too afraid to cover, to go into war zones and get the details that others can’t. I did that. I was living my dream.

Until this morning. Until one phone call ended it all.

I lean back in my seat and close my eyes. I wish Gary was right and I knew that I’d be back, but the dread that’s settled into my gut tells me otherwise. Besides, what kind of daughter am I, wishing that I’m only back in the States for a short time? That would mean my father would have died and the thought of losing him sends me into an emotional tailspin I’m not prepared for.

The pilot comes over the speaker, announcing that we’ll be landing soon. I peek at Gary out of the corner of my eye. I don’t know why he’s even on the plane. He could have easily found another journalist to work with. Hell, every journalist I know would kill to have Gary snapping the photos that would accompany their pieces. But he’s been loyal to me since the first assignment we were thrown together on.

Loyalty is a quality hard to come by these days. I’m grateful to have had Gary the past few years, but returning to the States is taking it too far. He’s too damn talented to throw in the towel. And that’s exactly what he’s doing because he’s delusional if he thinks I’ll ever make it back to the trenches.

I know I won’t. I don’t like it, but I have to accept it. Ever since my mom died, I’m all my dad has left, and his health keeps deteriorating… according to him. He didn’t want me to work overseas in the first place so there’s a part of me that wonders just how serious his condition is.

He wouldn’t lie about his health, Hol.

The plane catches a bit of turbulence as it descends, and I force myself to sit up straight. Normally, this feeling would excite me. Knowing that I’m moments away from stepping foot into a dangerous situation always gets my adrenaline going, but this? I’m not the least bit excited about this.

“Is your dad sending a car for you?” Gary asks as the plane bounces through the landing.

I scrunch up my face and nod. “Of course he is. No daughter of Langston Tibideaux will be forced to take a cab. Or worse, an Uber.”

I mock shudder and Gary laughs. He is very familiar with my family’s wealth. He’s also aware of how much I despise it. All I’ve ever wanted was to make it on my own, make a name for myself that has nothing to do with my last name or the palms that my father can grease. So far, I’ve managed to do that but going back to my hometown, living in my father’s house… who I’ve become will disappear.

“Would you mind dropping me off at my apartment?” Gary asks as we’re getting off the plane.

“Sure.”

Gary has maintained an apartment in the States because he says he likes to have a ‘home base’. I’ve done the opposite. I’m not the plant roots kind of girl. Travel, excitement, new and unfamiliar territory… that’s what I live for.

“Miss Tibideaux?”

I glance to the left, toward the voice, and smile at the middle-aged man standing there in a crisp black suit.

“Yes?”

He reaches out and takes the duffel from me. “Mr. Tibideaux sent me to pick you up.” He hitches a thumb over his shoulder toward a black town car with tinted windows. “We’re right over here.”

I nod. “Of course.” I glance back at Gary. “We have to make a stop on our way.”

“Miss, your father instructed me to bring you straight home.”

I tilt my head. “What’s your name?”

“Carl Loften, Miss.”

“Mr. Loften, I understand what my father has instructed, but I’m afraid we’re going to have to disobey him.” I smile again. “Just this once. And I promise, I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Mr. Loften chuckles. “Okay, miss.”

“Thank you.” I turn toward Gary. “You ready?”

“Yep.”

Gary lifts his own duffel and throws it over his shoulder. We all walk to the town car and the closer we get, the further away from my dream life I feel. Mr. Loften reaches the vehicle first and opens the back door, presumably for me. I ignore it and walk around the hood, choosing instead to sit in the front passenger seat.

“Thanks.”

I hear Gary cheerfully speak as he slides across the back seat. Mr. Loften mumbles something under his breath. When he gets into the driver’s seat, he glares at me.

“This is highly inappropriate.”

“Carl… I can call you Carl, right?” I don’t wait for him to respond. “I’m not like my father. I don’t like being catered to, and I hate sitting in the backseat like a little bitch.” I glance at Gary. “Sorry.”

“Hey, no worries,” Gary assures me with a grin. He rubs his hands over the leather seat. “If this is what being a little bitch is like, I’m fine with it.”

I roll my eyes at him before returning my attention to the driver. His knuckles are white as he grips the steering wheel and pulls out of the parking lot. His jaw tics and I know he’s not pleased with how things are going.

Too bad. I’m not pleased either. I’d much rather be back in some war-torn country dodging bullets to get a story, not here in a plush town car being driven to the estate I grew up in.

I stare out the window and watch as the trees fly by. The only time I speak is when we reach Gary’s apartment, and I lie when he asks me to promise I’ll call when I’m ready to go back to work.

The last hour of the drive goes by in a blur. Images of my father the last time I saw him flitter in my mind, causing my heart to twist. He was always larger than life. Strong, confident, authoritative… rich.

He’s still rich, but I can only imagine how feeble he is, how much the cancer has changed him. I look at Carl out of the corner of my eye. Okay, maybe my father isn’t too feeble because he can still scare his employees. I guess that’s the problem. I have no idea what I’m walking into.

When Carl pulls the car through the wrought iron gates, my stomach bottoms out. The landscaping is as perfect as ever, yet it’s different. The large home sits on the top of a hill, about a half mile off the road, and when it comes into view, I swallow past the lump in my throat.

My father is sitting in a rocking chair on the porch, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, his skin pale and wrinkled. I can tell he’s lost weight and I’m instantly transported back to my childhood when my mother died. As a little girl, it was horrific watching her waste away as hired nurses tended to her every need. I never thought I’d have to go through that again, yet here I am.

The biggest difference is now I’m the ‘hired nurse’. And I’m not exactly sure I’m up to the task.