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He’s here begging me for mercy because I am the only one who can help him. This is not what I prepared myself to face.
Before I can let him change my mind, I look away and remind myself internally to stay strong.
“I can’t help you,” I say plainly.
“I know I messed up,” he continues. “Lord, I pray every day for forgiveness, but what I’ve done is between me and God. I will face my justice on the day I meet him, I know that. But I can’t go to prison, son.”
He places his hand on my desk as if he’s reaching for me, and I make the mistake of turning toward him. There are real tears streaming down his face.
“I can’t help you. You know I can’t,” I say, but the moment the words leave my lips, I hear how weak they are. I’m letting him win. I’ve lost the confidence in my tone, giving him the upper hand.
“Your brothers are not without sin, Caleb. Before you pledge your loyalty to them, consider the mistakesthey’vemade and have some compassion. You have the power to save this family, Caleb.”
I lean back in my chair, losing the fight in me. For a moment, I actually consider the consequences of defending my father’s case as if it’s a choice I would actually make.
Protecting people is what I do. That has been my first priority for so long. Protect my family above everything else.
“Perhaps I could have a word with the judge,” I say, my knee bouncing under the desk as anxiety swells inside me.
My dad quickly wipes his tears. “If you think that would help, son, I’d be so grateful.”
“But I can’t do much more than that,” I say, but it feels like a lost cause. I gave him an inch. And I know my father will try and take a mile.
In my head, I keep thinking that if I just get him out of my office with empty promises, then I can brush this entire thing off. I’ll go back to my family and the bright future ahead of us and pretend this never happened.
“Let me see if I have his information,” I say.
As I pull open the top drawer of my desk, looking for my contact book, I freeze. Sitting at the back of my open drawer is a pair of black silk underwear—Dean’s black silk underwear.
I’m frozen in place, just staring at them, and it’s as if they are fingers snapping in front of my face.
What am I doing?
I’m actually considering helping the man who would ruin my family if he knew Briar and I are in love with a man. How could I possibly defend him? He’s a threat to our entire way of life.
Heisthe enemy.
It’s like Isaac all over again—trying to protect him and only doing more harm than good. I hurt so many people with my actions because ofthis man. But I don’t have to take that road again.
I can do better this time.
I slam the drawer shut.
“I don’t have the contact,” I mumble under my breath.
“What?” he snaps. “You didn’t even look.”
“I don’t have to.”
He glares at me skeptically from the chair. “Why not?”
“Because I’m not going to help you,” I say, standing from my chair. It’s like seeing the underwear finally gave me the confidence to let everything out. I’m tired of hiding. “And do you want to know why?” I continue. “Because you’re a hypocritical, selfish, greedy, ignorant bigot who wouldn’t even help his ownson.”
My blood is coursing through my veins so fast I feel it thrumming in my ears. I’ve never said anything like that to my father before. I’m getting worked up, and it feels a lot fucking better than I expected.
“What the hell has gotten into you?” he bellows, standing from his chair.
“You drove my seventeen-year-old brother away after he confided in you,” I shout.
