"I sat down to think things over a bit. While I was sitting there, a little kid about eleven or twelve years-old came bumming around. He was looking for something. He found it too. I took him out to a gravel pit about one quarter miles away. I left him there, but first committed sodomy on him and then killed him. His brains were coming out of his ears when I left him, and he will never be any deader."

- Carl Panzram was a convicted serial killer, arsonist, thief, burglar and rapist. Panzram confessed to his best friend and prison guard Henry Lesser to 22 murders and of sodomizing over 1000 young males. His killing spree began in 1920 when he started to lure young sailors from bars to rape and shoot them.

Chapter 13

The rhythmic beat of the heart beat monitor soothed my racing heart as I watched my fathers chest rise and fall. His face was yellow with bruising and an oxygen tube was now placed under his nose. The hand I held in mine was alien, bloodied rotten under the fingernails, blackened with blood clots.

The nurse had told me he had relapsed this morning; the doctors missed an internal injury that caused a large amount of internal bleeding, resulting in another near death experience for my father. When I asked more questions, she didn't elaborate, only telling me that he should wake up within the next few hours.

I gently squeezed his limp hand, patiently awaiting his wake into the world of the living. I didn't like seeing him so vulnerable, so weak. The father I liked to remember was always so strong and assertive; never letting anyone think that they were better or more important than he was. The simple fact was he was the boss. That title was the one thing that gave him so much authority and power over those that tried to challenge him.

I sighed as a laid my heavy head against the bed sheets beside him; silently praying he would wake up soon. My eyes fluttered close, my hand continuing to warm his cold one. The hospital bed sheets itched against my cheek, annoyingly rough for a blanket designed to help sick people recover.

My worry was making my stomach churn, contents rolling over and mixing with one another before making one big mess of my feelings. I knew he was going to be okay, but that didn't stop a gentle tear from sliding off of my cheek and soaking into the sheets. Finger wiping away the excess water, I slowly rose from my position to look upon his face once again. I needed him to wake up soon, so I could figure out this whole mess before someone else dies on my watch.

"Please, Dad, wake up." I whispered, my finger stroking the top of his hand. "I need you, now more than ever. Everything has gotten so confusing and twisted and—and I don't know who to trust anymore. I know you told me I couldn't trust anyone, but I thought that maybe, you know, I could. Just one person, Dad. But now, I don't even know if I can trust the guards or even your replacements... I haven't gotten anywhere with the inmate files and I'm starting to think that maybe, just maybe, they aren't the people I should be investigating. But before I go down that road, I need to know I have your support. So please, please, just wake up soon."

He stirred, awakening from the sound of my quiet voice. I sucked in a breath, squeezing his hand tight as his eyes began to slowly open. Eyelashes flicking, his blue eyes became visible in the afternoon sunlight that filtered through a high window. His breath caught in his throat as he attempted to bring himself into a sitting position. I gently pushed a hand onto his chest, stopping him from moving any further.

"Nurse!" I shouted, knowing she would be close, probably already been sent a message from his vital signs.

Satisfying my suspicions, she rushed in a second later to see if everything was okay. After a few minutes of her checking his vital signs and flashing a light into his sensitive eyes, she left with a small smile.

My father lay quiet through the entire ordeal, staring at the ceiling, eyes half shut with fatigue. I continued to hold onto his hand, hopeful that my warmth would have some kind of positive impact on his health. His fingers twitched in mine, drawing my attention back to his bruised face. Lips blackened with old blood, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Have you found anything yet?" He whispered, his voice surprisingly weak and withdrawn.

"Before we talk about that, I want to know if you are okay." Another unwanted tear slid down my cheek. His hand in mine tightened.

"I'm fine, Emily. The doctors will take care of me, as they have done so for the past week. Now, tell me, what have you found so far?"

"That's what I originally came here to talk to you about, Dad." I croaked out, withdrawing my hand from his. "I haven't found anything on any of the inmates. In fact, I came to ask permission to have access to the private files of all the guards we employ at the prison."

He sat up suddenly, startled at my question, wincing as he did so. I furrowed my eyebrows in concern and placed a steady hand on his shoulder. He gave me an irritated look and sunk back into his pillows in a huff.

"Not finding something in one lot of files does not give you a proper reason to delve into others." He rubbed his bruised eyelid in irritation. "Why should I give you permission to rip apart peoples personal files when you haven't gotten any further to finding out who is responsible for killing that young boy." He hissed, out of both irritation and pain.

"That's exactly why you need to give me permission, Dad! If I haven't found anything it's because the people I have been investigating are not guilty of this crime. I need to investigate anyone who could be responsible, Dad. You are the one who told me to figure this out and that's exactly what I am trying to do!" My voice rose in anger as I stood up to pace along his bedside.

"Emily, I'm only asking so then if something goes wrong, and I have to defend you for invading someone's private files, I have a proper reasoning for giving you access to those papers! You are not a police officer, Emily, or a private investigator. Not yet. And because of that, you need a better reason than 'I couldn't find anything elsewhere'. If you can give me something—anything—that makes a guard a suspect, other than just your words, then I will give you the authority to handle those files."

His explanation thwarted my anger to nothing more than a slight irritation. I saw reasoning behind his words, knowing deep down he would always be right. I rubbed my temples as I slowly sat back down onto the stiff hospital bed. It creaked like rotten floorboards under my weight; the small plastic breaks the only thing keeping it from sliding across the room.

"I understand," the words began to flow off my tongue, "but you know that is going to take at least another few days of aimlessly searching through the prison to find something that may point a finger towards a guard."

"Then don't look, Emily." He said, eyes closing as he sucked in another deep breath. "On most occasions, something will present itself if you are patient and do not force it to come out of hiding. Only when you least expect it, the truth will make itself known."

The wisdom behind his words made me want to scoff and dismiss any idea of destiny or fate. But, I knew there was some truth to what he had spoken, so I did myself a favour and kept my doubt at bay.

"Apart from everything that has been happening at work, how are you, Emily?" He said softly, reaching out to grab my hand once again.

"It's okay, Dad." I sighed and scratched my head. "Work has kept me so busy that I've had no time to dance with Mum. And Mum and I..."I glanced sideways at my father, watching his chest rise and fall shakily, and decided telling him the whole truth was not the best idea. "We haven't been on the best of terms."

He squeezed my hand in an attempt to comfort me. I smiled sadly, knowing that when he finds out the truth, he would be mad I didn't elaborate.

"It will pass." He said, a small smile tugging the corners of his lips upwards.

"I know." I said softly, thinking about what else had been happening in my life apart from work. "I met a boy."

"So? You meet boys all the time—oh." He said in realisation, his expression turning from confusion to concern in a matter of seconds. "I want you to be careful, Emily. We both know what happened with your last boyfriend... I don't want you to get hurt again."

My heart panged with the memory of the old wound, which was now nothing more than a faint scar on the surface of my heart. My last boyfriend hadn't been as kind as I anticipated and when things broke off, things broke off roughly, to say the least. But, he was nothing more than a high school fling that ended with graduation and the differences in our hopes and dreams. I didn't think about him.

"No, Dad, this is different; I don't think he is ever going to be my boyfriend." I sighed, recalling the beautiful blue eyes of the monster that had slithered his way into a small part of my heart. "But, whenever I'm around him, I get this funny feeling in my stomach, like butterflies mixed with nausea and it's infuriating! I don't want to like him, Dad, but I do."

He sighed and ran a hand over his wrinkled face, stretching the skin as he drew his hand downwards. I desperately clung to his hand, wanting to hear what he had to say about my declaration of affection for another man. In all life's aspects, I wanted to know his opinion before I made a life altering decision. There are things in life only a father knew the answer to.

"Well, is he a nice man?" He asked, peering at me behind hooded eyes. I thought for a moment, considering the fact that he was locked up in a correctional prison, and decided a little white lie couldn't do him any harm.

"Yes."

"And do you see a future with this nice man?" Again, I thought about his position in the prison. This time, my heart fell. No amount of white lies could cover up the fact that I saw no future with the man behind bars. How could I possibly have a future with a man sitting on the death row?

"No," I said softly, "I guess not."

"Then don't waste your time on him honey." My father said, running his thumb over the back of my hand.

I smiled at him softly, trying to ignore the sadness that filled my heart. I knew having feelings for a man behind bars would only end in an inevitable heartbreak, as there would never be a future with a man destined for an early death. I pushed the thought out of my mind, determined to focus on what needed to be done about the files I needed.

"Excuse me, Miss, but I need to be alone with your father now." A doctor spoke up from behind me. He turned to my father with an empty expression. "Your wife is on her way now."

Turning to my father, I leant down to kiss his cheek, carful not to touch any yellow bruises.

"I'll be back soon. I love you, Dad." I whispered, determined to keep to that promise and mentally entered him into my calendar.

"I love you too, Emily. Stay safe and keep out of trouble."

"I will." I whispered quietly, although as I said it, I wondered if that was really the truth.

-

-

-

-

-

Hey guys! It's my last day of holidays today before I start my final year at school! I so badly wanted to have a bulge day and not do anything but then I thought I owed it to you guys to write another chapter :p

If you enjoyed the chapter, let me know by commenting! (It makes my day)

I know that some of you are wondering why this book is slow, so I want you to know it's because you are reading half chapters, as I have had to cut them in two so they are more appropriate for Wattpad. Also, when I first started writing, I planned for this book to be a proper length novel, not just 30000 words. So please, bare with me. It takes me a while to upload because I am still a high school student who is desperately trying to get the highest ATAR possible.

I hope you all understand :/

Charli xx