You just usually ask me about the weekend on Tuesday or Wednesday and I ask my dad. You didn't, so I thought that-"I stopped again. "I never asked you..." I hissed. "You always ask me! And I ask my mom if it's OK and she says yes or no and you set it up with your dad. That's how it works, David!" I jabbed my finger in his chest, right where I'd hit him before and he winced. I stepped back, grabbing the strap of my backpack with both hands. "I didn't mean to hurt you, sorry."He laughed. "A pansy. Why do you think people line up in church to tell some guy what they've done that they feel bad about? The one guy who didn't feel either guilt or remorse, the one who wasn't wired for it, Houston, didn't go along with the wish. And I was glad there was another way to get him. Because, that was the important thing — to get him.Why would I fight taking my father back to the place that saved my life? Was it a sign of failure for me to admit that this adversary was tougher than I was? Or I wasn't. More

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