Page 57 of Weston’s Treasure

“I embarrassed you?” My dad’s face paled and I would’ve felt bad about that, too, except I was too far gone.

I was remembering all the times my dad hadn’t listened to me in the past. All the times I had to play peacekeeper between my parents. All of the times I was pressured to live a life I didn’t want because my dad was too selfish to see how miserable I was.

“You’re seriously asking that? You were so insane yesterday, Weston had to tell you to leave. Today you grilled Alec like he was some terrorist holding me hostage. If Jonny hadn’t come in, you were still going to refuse calling the police to tell them I was okay. Which meant I was going to have to do it.”

“I’m worried about my daughter,” he snapped.

“Really? And were you worried about me when you were gone for four months and didn’t once check in with me? Did I cross your mind while you were diving off the Galapagos? Were you thinking about me when you were going through the Panama Canal? Rounding Cuba, passing Cancun, Belize? Did you think to call me when you refueled in Honduras? Maybe as you hugged Nicaragua, Costa Rica? No, you didn’t. You never do. Dale Coyle thinks of no one but himself and the next great thrill. I’m done, Dad. Over it. I don’t care what stupid game you’re still playing with my mother. I don’t care the only reason you want me to take over your business is so you can rub it in her face. And you know that’s the reason. It’s not because it is what would make me happy. It’s never about me. It’s always about you and Silvia and all the ways the two of you can piss on each other. I’m simply the tool you both use. Done. Way done. So done, I want you to leave and after that leave me alone.”

My dad stood speechless. He also looked like I’d smacked him. That made me feel bad. Weston’s arm around my waist tightened just for a second, giving me the support I needed.

“Dad—”

“I’m sorry, Scout.”

Then my dad turned to leave and guilt slammed into my chest. I’d never spoken to my father like that, never in anger, never with malintent, proving I was the worst, absolute worst daughter in the world.

“Wait.”

“I deserved that,” my dad started. “But you’re always on my mind. Doesn’t matter where I am in the world, I’m always thinking about you. Always loving you. Be well, Silver.”

And with that parting shot, he was out the door. I stood frozen in Weston’s arms replaying my dad’s last words. He called me Silver. Not since I was five had I heard him call me by my name. That hurt worse than the look on his face.

“Babe?” When my eyes didn’t move from the door, Weston’s hand cupped my jaw and gently lifted my chin to look to him. “We’ll give him a few hours and if you want, we’ll go to his hotel and the two of you can sit down and talk.”

“I can’t believe I said all of that to him.”

“You keeping all of that bottled up inside is not good—it needed to be said. Now that it has, we’ll give him some time to think on it and I’ll take you over there later.”

My face planted on his chest and my eyes closed. Sure my dad was flighty, he was always on the lookout for the next best thing, the next good time to be had, but I knew he loved me. Something ugly was building inside of me, so ugly I wanted to throw up. I’d turned into my mother. I’d said hateful things on purpose because I wanted my dad to hurt the way I did. I wanted him to feel the pain his abandonment had caused me.

My worst fear—I was my mother’s daughter.

* * *

“Got a minute?” My head came up to see Alec standing in the doorway.

I was in Weston’s office. After that craptastic scene with my dad, Jonny went back to the station, and soon after, the rest of us went into the office, including Alec.

No one had said anything about me squaring off with my dad, or about what a bitch I had been. At some point, I’d have to apologize, but I was too ashamed and embarrassed to bring it up yet.

Weston had also taken me by the hotel, at which time we’d been informed my dad had checked out. At Weston’s urging, I’d called him and the call had gone to voicemail. It was official—I was a bitch and a horrible daughter.

Weston being Weston, gently reminded me I had a right to my feelings and I said what I’d needed to say and my dad would have to deal. I didn’t agree, but I hadn’t argued. I didn’t think I had any fight left in me, not after I’d hurt my dad so badly—the only parent I had who gave a shit about me.

“Of course,” I told Alec, trying my best to hide my foul mood. “Come in.”

Alec prowled to the only extra chair in the office and that’s what he did—prowled. Alec didn’t walk anywhere, he was too big, too intense to merely walk. The first time I’d met the man he scared the shit out of me, and each time I’d been around him since hadn’t lessened the fear. He looked like he could snap a grown man in half, which meant it would take very little effort on his part to crack me in two.

“We’re going over the canal roster looking into the vessels you’ve highlighted.”

“Find anything?” I asked hopefully.

“Howard Sposato,” Alec announced.

“Don’t know who that is.”

“He owns the Serafina. The Hatteras you flagged.”