Follow
Chapters
Share
They Asked for My Dads Novel Cover

They Asked for My Dads

Abandoned at a maximum-security prison as an infant, Riley Ray was raised by 108 death-row inmates who claimed custody. Eighteen years later, she enters an elite high school only for her past to be weaponized against her. After a violent confrontation with a wealthy rival, the school dean demands she call her 'criminal' fathers. However, Riley knows the truth: her dads aren't murderers, but elite agents officially declared dead while serving their country.
Chapters
Share

Chapter 2

Dad One's real name was Lance Cole.

At the Federal Security Bureau, they called him Evergreen—their top field agent. Years ago, he went overseas to hunt a traitor and came back taking the fall for thirty-six bodies.

My hand shook as the call rang.

I knew him too well.

When I was little, Dad Sixty-Seven let me ride a rocking horse. I fell off, and Dad One beat him for it.

"Riley's our girl. How did you let her get hurt?"

I remembered how mad he was... and now, if he found out what happened to me—

I didn't even want to picture it.

But I had no choice.

Out of all of them, Dad One was the calmest.

The second the call connected, I didn't hear his voice.

Footsteps. Fast. Then a low command—

"The target's in sight. All teams, move. No survivors."

I froze, gripping the phone so hard I forgot to breathe.

Then Dad One came on. Calm. Controlled. Like it was any normal day.

"Riley, what's wrong? Something happened?"

His voice softened, like he was asking what I wanted for dinner.

"I'm a little busy. Send me your location. I'll be there in twenty-four hours."

My throat locked up. I couldn't get a word out.

Twenty-four hours.

Where was he? What was he in the middle of?

If I said it, he'd drop everything. Years undercover—gone. Risk everything.

"No need, Dad!"

My voice cracked, but I pushed through.

"It's just a parent-teacher meeting. If you're busy, it's fine. I can handle it. I'm hanging up. Stay safe."

I ended the call.

A second later—smack.

The hit knocked me sideways on the bed.

Mr. Todd's face was red with rage.

"You think this is a joke? You call and hang up—this is you getting your parents here?!"

Vivian limped over and looked down at me, sneering.

"Dad, I heard it. He said twenty-four hours."

She dragged it out, mocking.

"What, is it prison break time? Those old freaks coming to pick her up?"

I snapped my head up.

My dads were heroes. Not freaks.

Before I could say anything, Linda grabbed my hair and slammed my head into the floor.

Bang.

Bang.

My forehead hit the cold tile. My vision flashed red.

Through the pain, I saw Vivian crouch down. Her voice dropped, eyes sharp—like a cat toying with a mouse.

"I'll give you one day. After school tomorrow, if that old freak you call a dad doesn't show up, apologize, and beg me to forgive you, I'll make sure everyone knows the daughter of murderers couldn't even stay in high school."

Mr. Todd backed her up, voice cold. "If no one shows, you're expelled."

I stayed on the floor and nodded.

'Maybe I should just drop out.'

Compared to my dads' lives... what did my future even matter?

Then I remembered Dad One holding me three years ago.

"Riley, you're the kid we're all proudest of. I can't wait to take your graduation photo."

My eyes burned again.

***

I went back to my apartment.

Dad Twenty-Three rented it for me. He even put two cameras in the hallway. Dad Forty-One hooked them to my phone. Back then he said, "Riley, now I can keep an eye on you 24/7."

I pushed the door open—and froze.

Steam filled the kitchen.

Dad Thirty-Two, Dad Sixty-Seven, and Dad Ninety-Four stood over different pots, arguing about the seasoning.

"You're back!"

Dad Sixty-Seven spotted me first. He set the spatula down and hurried over.

"Go wash your hands. Dinner's almost ready!"

"Wh-Why are you back?" I stayed by the door, voice shaking.

Dad Sixty-Seven grinned. "Mission's on pause. We got two days off."

Dad Thirty-Two walked over and pinched my cheek. "Missed you."

Dad Ninety-Four leaned out of the kitchen. "Riley, I heard you topped your class again. Why didn't you tell us? Let me go to the parent-teacher meeting. I'll make you look good."

"Let me go," Dad Sixty-Seven cut in. "I sound the most put-together."

"Who cares how you sound? We're trying to make Riley shine. And don't forget—you let her fall off that rocking horse," Dad Thirty-Two shot back, thumping his chest. "I'm the best-looking and the nicest. I should go."

They started arguing right there. Louder, faster—getting way too into it.

"How about we all go? Let those parents see how amazing our girl is!"

My nose stung. My eyes burned.

"Aren't you supposed to stay hidden?"

Dad Thirty-Two waved it off. "We'll keep it low-key. It's not a mission. No real risk."

"Exactly." Dad Ninety-Four patted my shoulder. "How could we miss something about you?"

I dropped my gaze, swallowing the words on my tongue.

If they showed up and found out Vivian had been bullying me... it wouldn't end well.

"Let's talk after the SAT," I said, forcing a smile. "It was just a regular test. No big deal."

"Fine. But for the SAT, you have to let us go." Dad Sixty-Seven looked bummed. "Come on, eat."

Halfway through dinner, Dad Thirty-Two glanced at me.

"Riley, why are you wearing a hat? It's way too hot in here."

I thought of the cut on my forehead and stiffened.

"It's just..."

He reached for my hat—then his phone buzzed.

He glanced at it, face tightening, and stepped onto the balcony.

I caught bits and pieces.

"Mission delayed... target running counter-surveillance... hold position..."

When he came back, I set my fork down.

"Dad."

All three of them looked at me.

"Can you transfer? Do something safer?" I kept my head down, voice steady. "I'm about to take the SAT. Once I'm done... I can support you."

Silence.

Three seconds.

Dad Thirty-Two's eyes went red. He covered his face. "You've grown up..."

Dad Sixty-Seven turned away, wiping his eyes. Dad Ninety-Four didn't say anything—just kept piling food onto my plate.

Two hours later, after reminding me over and over to take care of myself, they left three bank cards on the table and headed out.

I stood at the door, gave them a quick salute, and called out, "Stay safe!"

"Got it!"

The door clicked shut.

I stood alone in the living room, staring at the three bank cards on the table.

For a long time.

Then I opened my browser and slowly typed:

[rent a parent for a school meeting]