Page 33 of Defensive Indifference

“So…do nothing?”

“Exactly. Live your life like you normally would, pretend to be distant from your father, and this will end soon.”

I’m not so sure it’ll be that easy. “Don’t these people usually go after family? Friends? Should I be worried for Katie or my friends?”

Eleanor chuckles. “I think anyone who messes with your sister had better be prepared for Spencer to eat them alive, but no. Your father has made a pretty solid story that you are estranged. Not even your mother knows all the details.”

“Estranged?”

“He’s claiming you want nothing to do with him, haven’t for a long while.” Eleanor studies my face, probably wondering if this will come as a shock. On one hand, it does. On the other, I can see where he’d go to such lengths for his children. Before I can say anything, Eleanor motions for me to keep quiet. “Don’t tell me one way or another. If it’s false, I’d have to be honest if asked.”

I blow out a long breath, still so confused. “I can’t begin to understand any of this, but at least I can go to bed knowing my father is innocent.” I run my hands over my short beard and try to make sense of it all. In reality, I haven’t been what one would call close with my father in a very long time. We grew apart, took different paths, and it’s hard to keep up with a man who lives seventy percent of his life on a yacht in faraway seas. Still, he’s my father. I pray he makes it through this, and in the end, it might be a good idea to work on this family’s dynamic. It’s a weighty topic needing copious prayer, so I don’t put too much thought into it while Eleanor watches me.

“Hey, I get it. Just know that the Dawson family is on it, and if there’s any reason to believe you or Katie need protection, you’ll hear it from us first. The feds are too slow in that department.” Her confidence offers me some comfort, but I’m still on edge. She notices, pats my arm, and exudes a little more of her confidence. “I’ve got your back, Koa. You’re safe, I promise.”

With that, she stands and smooths her skirt. “Now, on to other topics. Have you considered allowing Evalina to borrow one of your cars?”

“My…what? How did you…”

“I meant it when I said I know all. I think offering that might help your cause.” Her grin can’t be hidden no matter how hard she tries to bite it back.

“My cause?”

She finally chuckles. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean. Offer the car. Sweep her off her feet.”

“There is literally nothing I can do to convince that woman that I’m not the devil incarnate, but thanks for the suggestion. I’ll offer, but don’t be surprised if you see woman sets baseball player’s car on fire on the local news.”

This gives her another laugh, but she goes serious again in a blink. “Even so, offer. You never know, and I promise I’m on top of this situation with your father. Rest that shoulder, try not to think about the worst, and I’ll keep in touch.”

I escort her to the door and bid her farewell, consider calling Katie, but decide the news Eleanor brought is most certainly an in-person conversation, and flop on my bed to rest instead. It grows dark while I stare at the ceiling contemplating how I got here. How does a rich kid go pro, then wind up the son of a man who is working for the feds to take down an illegal operation?

Actually, sounds like every Hollywood movie from my childhood.

I’m so distracted, I almost miss my phone lighting up with a message. Every cell in my body tells me to ignore it, it’s probably just another news alert about my family, but on the off chance it’s my sister, I check it anyway.

It’s not my sister.

I stare at the screen with Evalina’s message glaring at me until a second message comes through. Then another and another before I open them.

Evalina

Hi, it’s me, the woman who called you to rescue her then promptly had a panic attack in your car and ran off after being mean to you.

I wanted to apologize, and yeah, I’m sort of a coward so I’m doing it over text. Also, I’m bad at communicating with you, apparently.

So, I’m very sorry. I appreciate everything you’ve done for us.

My day sucked, and I took it out on you. Will you please forgive me?

How do I even respond to that? I can’t message her. There is no doubt that, as bad as we are at communicating verbally, I will most certainly be worse at written communication. No chance I let that happen, so I tap her number and pray she answers.

She answers with a groan. “You can’t let a girl be a chicken, can you?”

She makes me laugh and forget my family trouble without even trying. I can’t stand that she thinks I’m upset with her.

“Not a chance. I was never mad at you, by the way. Confused, yes, but not mad.”

She releases a long sigh and groans again. “I was upset about my car, then you made some offhanded comments about it being junk and I needed a better one, and I guess I let it get to me. That, and Dustin getting into a fight really made my day hard.”