Ring, ring.

I pulled out my phone and answered it.

"Hello! April speaking.” I said as cheerily as I could manage.

"You had better watch out. You mom was just the start.” The man was obviously using a voice distortion machine.

"Who is this?" I asked, and was answered by the sound of the dial tone. I hung up, then after a moment's hesitation, pulled it out again and dialed my dad.

I got his answering machine. I left a hasty message telling him to call me back, then checked the lock on the front door. And all the windows. The phone rang, and I pounced on it.

"Hello? Dad?"

"Hi April. You wanted me to call you? I'm sorry I didn't catch you. I was in a meeting."

"Dad. Someone just called and told me to watch out. I asked who it was, but they hung up.” There was silence on the other end of the line. "Dad?"

"I didn't want to before, but I think I might have to do something about him this time."

"You know who it is?"

"Your mother and I decided not to tell you before, but now- Now I think you need to know. Yes, I know who it is. Walter Evander. I put him behind bars in my attorney days. He swore he would get back at me. April - he killed your mother."

I dropped the phone.

"April? April! Are you there?" My father's voice rose muffled from the phone on the floor. I knew I should pick it up. Instead I sat down in a chair. The world tilted. And everything went black.

~

"April. Honey, please. Wake Up." Through a fog I saw my dad hovering over me. His face was a mask of concern. The lines on his face stood out with amazing clarity. But they eased back after a moment.

"April." He pressed kiss to my forehead. “ Do you think you could sit up?" I pressed my hand to my head.

"I think so. Slowly." He helped me up, slowly, as I had requested. When I was safely set up on a chair, he stepped over to my side and motioned to a man standing across the room.

"April, this is Blake Stone. He is the head of the FBI.” I nodded to the man. He stepped forward and we shook hands.

"Your father tells me that you had a threatening phone call."

"Yes sir. I called him right away."

"And then he told you about Walter Evander."

"Yes." I straightened up, the fog over my brain lifting a bit more.

"Well, your father called me as soon as he couldn't get a response from you. I came with here with him and two of my men. He has decided to let me give you a bodyguard. He won't let me give him one, although I advised it." I turned towards my dad and cocked an eyebrow.

"What if I said that I don't want one either?"

He turned to me and opened his mouth. And closed it. And just stared at me.

~

So, on top of being late for work, I ended up with two very hyper-protective babysitters. And don't ask me how that happened. Because I certainly didn't want them. Being followed to work and back, the store, and everywhere else wasn't my idea of fun. And explaining them to my boss was fun too. Not. But when I got home it was better. They had switched out with another set and one was staked out on the street outside. The other one was inside in the guest room. I turned in early because I had a headache. The guy insisted on checking out my room before I went in. I let him, but only because I didn't want to blow up or something when I walked in. Then I went to bed. I got up in the morning and took my shower and got ready for work, and realised that it was a Saturday. So I dumped all my stuff on my bed and went downstairs. My dad was in the kitchen, making pancakes. Just like every other Saturday. Just like it was normal. But it wasn't. Mostly because of the FBI agent sitting at the table.

"Good morning April!" I smiled at my dad as I slid onto a stool at the bar.

"Good morning dad."

"You feeling alright?" I could understand his concern, as I had fainted the day before.

"I'm fine. And hungry." He flipped two pancakes out of the pan and onto a plate.

"There you go." he said as he handed the plate to me. I hopped down off the stool and headed for the fridge. I detoured and went to the window. I threw it open wide, and breathed deep.

"It's a beautiful day." A smile curved my lips. I didn't care about any old Walter Evander. I was going to live my life. I closed my eyes and let the sun caress my face. The sound a bullet hitting the window casing roused me from my reverie. That and the FBI agent tackling me. my father joined us on the floor as the bullets tore up the kitchen. An eerie silence followed. The FBI agent, who's name I could not remember, pulled his cellphone from his belt. He pushed buttons and then pressed it to his ear.

"Greg? Someone just shot up the kichen. Both of the Parkers are fine. I need to know if the guy is still out there." There was silence for a very long time, then I heard a muffled voice coming from the phone.

"Thanks Greg." The agent clicked the phone shut, stood up, then helped me up.

"Thank You --" I began, then realised that I couldn't remember his name.

"Tristen Andersen. You can just call me Tristen." I think I blushed because he grinned crookedly and then turned to my dad.

"Are you alright Mr.Parker?"

"I'm fine, young man. It would be good to ask my daughter the same question, don't you think?"

"Dad!" I protested. Tristen shot me another crooked grin.

"Are you alright, Miss. Parker?" he asked me.

"I am perfectly fine." I turned and stalked out of the kitchen and up the stairs to my room, Tristan's quiet chuckles drifting up behind me. I flopped onto my bed beside the stuff I had dumped there. Something poked me in the side. I picked it up and looked at it. It was a picture frame. I smiled as I looked at it. The picture was of me and my boyfriend Peter last year at the amusement park. We had someone take it for us in front of the ferris wheel. That was a good day. I traced the outline of the frame with my finger. I should call him. I should tell him. But how do you tell someone that you have a physco killer on your tail that wants to kill you to get back at your dad? Just like that I suppose. I sighed. I looked at my phone, that had slid out of my bag when I threw it on the bed. I picked it up and called.

"Hey April! How's your day going?" he said. And I started crying. Just big, huge, heaping sobs.

"April? I would ask if you're alright, but that seems like a stupid question at the moment. Then again, I can't think of anything else. Are you alright?"

"No." I managed to get out through my tears. "Ple-ase, can yo-u come over?"

"I'll be right there. I love you." I started crying harder. The sound of a dial tone met my ears for the second time that day.

I composed myself and headed downstairs. I should probably tell Tristan that Peter was coming so that he would let him in.

"Tristan?"

He appeared instantly out of the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"Yes?"

"My boyfriend Peter is coming over. I called him on the phone to tell him about -" I motioned to the kitchen, "-this, but it was to weird over the phone. I thought I should probably let you know."

"Thank You. I'll tell Greg to let him in." He pulled his cellphone from his pocket as I walked to the kitchen. The stove was pulled out from the wall and my dad was behind it fiddling with something. He looked up as I walked in.

"Hi April. What's up?"

"Peter's coming over. He doesn't know about what all happened yesterday or today though. I don't know-" I shook my head.

"It will be dangerous for him too now. At least if Walter hung around to observe." I put my hand to my mouth.

"I didn't think of that." The doorbell rang and I went to the hall and waited as Tristan answered it.

"Hello? I'm here to see April. And I'm a little confused as to what's going on here." Tristan looked at me, confirming that it was Peter I guess. I nodded. Tristan stepped aside, and I stepped forward. Peter walked towards me and pulled me into his arms.

"What is going on April?"

"Let's go upstairs." I said. I nodded my thanks to Tristan as we left. He nodded back, and returned to the kitchen. When me and Peter got to the top of the stairs, I pulled him into the alcove with the window seat. We sat down and he looked at me expectantly.

"Peter- I got a threatening phone call yesterday."

"Do they know who it is?"

"Yes. I called my dad right away and he told me who it was. Someone named Walter Evander. He shot up the kitchen this morning too." Peter pulled me into his arms.

"I'm sorry April. I'm so sorry."

I felt cold metal against my neck.

"If you don't move or make any noise, you'll live longer."

"Peter?" I gasped.

"No, sweetheart, I'm Walter. Plastic surgery does wonders. I knew I had picked a good surgon when your dad didn't recognise me. To bad I had to kill him. But I couldn't have word getting out now could I." I closed my eyes.

"April?"I heard Tristan yell.

"Answer him." Peter- or rather Walter- hissed in my ear.

"Yes?" I said.

"We have the stove back up and running. Your dad wants to know if you and Peter want some pancackes." I looked at Walter.

"Yes." He whispered.

"We'd love some! Be down in a minute." I turned to Walter. He nodded approvingly.

"Yes, We'll be down in a minute. But not like they think." He pulled me up and twisted my arm around behind my back. I wimpered. He chuckled, like he enjoyed my pain. Come to think of it, he probably did. He placed the knife point on my back, positioned to kill. He marched me downstairs to the dining-room. My knees almost gave out more than once from the pain. When we reached the dining-room doorway, he tightened his grip and slipped the knife to the front of my neck. He gave my wrist an evil wrench. I barely stifled a full-on scream. Tristan looked up with a jerk, his hand flying towards his gun, but pausing when he caught sight of the knife.

"How's it going April?" he asked, his voice calm as could be, his eyes betraying him. "Not doing the greatest at the moment." I said, trying to match his calm tone.

"Why don't you tell your FBI friend who I really am?" Walter said. I stared at Tristan, the tears in my eyes welling up again.

"Well, go ahead." Walter said, twisting my arm. I bit my lip and tasted blood. Some of the tears escaped and slipped down my cheeks.

"Walter Evander." I spit out. I could see the shock and suprise on Tristan's face.

"Plastic surgery does wonders." Walter said. He realeased my arm and slipped the knife away from my neck. I gasped in relief. Walter shoved me forward. Tristan reached for his gun, but froze again. I turned around and found out why. Walter had a gun trained on me. Tristan pulled me down into a chair next to him.

"Let me take a look at your arm." He said, reaching for it. I took off my jacket and let him look. He pushed in a few places, making me wimper more than once. He set it down in my lap.

"It might be broken, but I can't tell for sure. You will definitely have bruises for a while." He looked at Walter. "She needs a doctor."

"You think I care?" I knew he wanted to kill me, but the utter hate in his eyes scared me. Eyes that had once held love. At least what I had thought was love. Now, who knew what was true and what was not. 

Tristan looked at me, and I saw fear in his eyes. Not just concern, like you would have for a total stranger, or in his case, an assignment, but real, genuine fear. Hate and Fear, each in eyes where they do not belong. Tristan turned to Walter.

"Can I at least have a first aid kit?"

"You're not getting anything."

I heard footsteps in the hallway.

"Pancakes coming up!" Walter pulled out his knife, yanked me to my feet, and twisted my arm back around behind me. I didn't bother to stifle the scream that rose to my lips. I felt the cold metal of the knife on my throat. The door swung open and my dad stepped in. He froze in his tracks.

"Hello Daniel. We meet again. How do you like my new look? I had it done especially to worm my way into your life again."

"Walter." he growled.

"Correct. Why don't you have a seat?" My dad sat down.

"Don't you have a conscience? "

"I don't have anything to be guilty about. Nothing at all." He released my arm and shoved me forward again. I groaned in pain as it dropped to its original position. Tristan's phone rang. He pulled it out.

"What do you think you're doing?" Walter asked.

"It's my partner. If I don't answer, he'll call in backup. And where does that leave you?" Walter stared at him for a moment, then at me.

"Answer it." he spit out. "But don't tell him anything. Just tell him everything is fine."

"What if he asks about her scream?" Tristan asked, motioning to me.

"Tell him she saw a mouse." Walter said. Tristan punched the answer button, and held his phone up to his ear.

"Hey Greg." Tristan said.

"Miss. Parker saw a mouse." Tristan said. His voice was strained.

"Yes, I got it."

"Okay. Bye." He hung up the phone.

"Just wanted to know if anything was the matter." He bestowed Walter with a venomous stare.

"Well, nothing is, is there." he said, gloatingly. Tristan glared at him. Another man stepped in the door. Walter glanced at him.

"It took you long enough."

"It's not easy getting twenty men into a house under FBI guard."

"Even with the vacant house in back?"

"I was just being cautious. We don't want anything going wrong with our plan."

"It still shouldn't have taken you that long to get here."

"Well, I'm here. Let's get going." Walter grabbed my arm, the hurt one, and I screamed. He didn't seem to notice as he twisted it around my back and more screams escaped from my lips. But then he laughed, a small, satisfied laugh. He had noticed, and he liked it. I felt tears roll down my cheeks.

"Everybody up. Get walking."  He pushed me to the back door. When we got there, he spun to face my dad, Tristan, and the other man.