“Call me as soon as you get done with him.” Trent’s face was lined with concern.
“I will, but I have to go. I don’t want to be late.”
Trent grabbed my arm and squeezed it. I winced at the power behind his grip.
“It will be fine, Trent, but I really have to go. I'll call you later.”
He let me go, watching as I got into my car and drove away. The whole Trent situation vacated my mind the closer I got to the coffee shop. It frustrated me that I couldn't think of a reason why Jason’s dad would want to meet with me.
I found a parking spot and sat in my car, gathering all the strength I could muster. I begged the universe to get me through what was about to happen. I ensured my cell phone was still on silent, not wanting to be disturbed. With nothing else to procrastinate over, I got out of the car slowly.
Mr. Hutchingson sat at a table in the back of the coffee shop. His face was bright red, just like the last time I’d seen him. His eyes were harder no longer having to pretend he liked me. His sandy-blonde hair was groomed meticulously and his dark blue suit wrapped around him showing off his hulking body.
I wondered briefly if Jason had told his father why I’d left, but quickly dismissed the thought. If Jason couldn’t come to terms with reality himself, he would never let anyone else know the truth.
The look of disgust was evident on Mr. Hutchingson's face when I sat down. Anger started to boil inside me, being he was the one who’d wanted to see me, not the other way around. Why he looked so put out was beyond me.
“Hello, Mr. Hutchingson.”
“Faith.” He all but spit my name out, like the taste of it was bitter on his tongue.
“I will get right to the point. You need to tell your dad to back the hell off my son.”
With all the scenarios I had come up with in my mind since getting his phone call, this wasn’t even close to what I’d imagined. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand,” I said, perplexed as to what my dad could have to do with this.
Mr. Hutchingson rolled his eyes as if I was a complete moron and he was wasting his time talking to me. “Your dad has been investigating Jason, and it needs to stop immediately.”
His words slapped me in the face. A couple of pieces to the puzzle snapped snuggly in place.
“I was contacted by one of my friends in the precinct. Your dad's using his old connections to dig into Jason’s file. He's especially curious about the restraining order you filed against my son and the reason it was dismissed.”
I opened my mouth to tell him this was the first I’d heard of the investigation, but he steamrolled over me.
“This whole thing is ridiculous and needs to stop now. I refuse to let my son's future be jeopardized by some suicidal girl and her retired father trying to make his comeback into the force.”
My body froze when he mentioned suicidal. He looked down at my right wrist. Even though it faced down, I could feel his eyes burning through my skin and bones until he was face to face with the tiny silver scar marring its inside.
“I’m not, nor have I ever been, suicidal. And I had no clue my dad was looking into Jason. I don’t care if you believe me or not. I had no intention of letting my dad find out anything about my relationship with Jason,” I countered.
Mr. Hutchingson rolled his eyes again at my response. His reaction made the anger boil closer to the surface.
“Please. My son told me about your little suicide attempt. He even showed me the pictures,” he scoffed.
I could feel my face pale as the blood drained out of it. Once again seeing another facet of Jason’s delusions. “I'm not going to argue with you. Like your son, you seem content with living inside your own world, but I will stop my dad from investigating any further.”
I started to get up, sick to my stomach from the conversation, but he stopped me before I could stand.
“I have a proposition for you.” He smiled and my skin crawled.
“I assure you; I don’t want anything from you,” I said, making a move to leave again.
He grabbed my hand. “I heard you’re singing with the JackholeS.”
I tensed, hating that he had insight into my life, and the boys. “That is none of your business,” I spat out. I needed to leave. My body begged me to rip free of his grasp and walk out, but I forced myself to stay to make sure my family was safe.
“I have a lot of connections, Faith. It would only take a couple of phone calls to get them on a headlining tour that would put them on the road to being signed.”
I faltered, knowing this could be the opportunity the boys had been working so hard toward.
