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My father waits a moment before answering, but his nostrils are flaring. He’s trying to maintain control. He’s good at it. He rarely raised his voice to us when we were kids. Almost as if—
“I don’t owe you any explanation, Dale,” he says. “I’m still your father, and I’ve been around a lot longer than you have.”
“Yeah, Jesus, Dale.” Donny shoves his hands into the pockets of his dress pants.
No big surprise. Donny always takes Dad’s side. Donny also likes to pretend those horrible months never happened. Sometimes I wish I were more like him.
“What aren’t you telling us?” I demand. “Why the hell did you take us into your home all those years ago?”
“We’ve been through this.”
“I know. I know. Because you could give us what we needed. What the fuck does that mean, Dad?”
Dad pauses again, getting control of his nostrils. “Your aunt Mel gave you the help you needed. And I had the resources to get you the best child psychologist in Denver, as well. Wouldn’t you do the same thing?”
Interesting question, and my anger subsides for a moment while I actually consider it.
Yes.
Of course, yes.
I’d help any child who needed my help. Like Dad said, I have the resources. But further, I’d also understand, having been through it myself.
I nod. “Absolutely. I will always help anyone in need.”
“Then you have your answer,” Dad says.
I don’t, but that’s his way of saying the conversation is over.
A look passes between Donny and me. A look that says we know Dad is hiding something. A look that says we’ll probably never know the truth because we’ve searched before to no avail.
“So will you help your birth father?” Dad finally says, his dark gaze meeting mine.
“Why should I?”
“You just said, and I quote, ‘I will always help anyone in need.’”
I scoff. “I meant children. You know exactly what I meant.”
“I know exactly what you said.”
“We were talking about kids. About Donny and me and why you helped us.”
“So if your father were a child, you’d help him?”
“Hell, Dad, if my father wasn’t a child and he needed help through no fault of his own, I’d help him. But he abandoned us.”
Dad nods. “It’s your choice. I’m willing to help him if the two of you are willing. But I won’t if you tell me not to.”
“Wait a minute, Dale,” Donny says.
“What?” My tone is harsher than I mean it to be.
“He is our father.”
I point to Dad. “That’s our father.”
“For God’s sake, you know what I mean. But for him, you and I wouldn’t be here. And frankly, we both have pretty damned good lives, all things considered.”
“All things considered?”
“Yeah, Dale, all things.”
I soften my gaze. For a moment, Donny is seven years old again, and that need to protect him coils tight in my belly.
I protected him then.
And I protect him now.
But there are things he still doesn’t know.
My little brother cries in my arms.
I push my own pain and horror into the back of my mind and focus on his.
Only Donny is important. He’s mine to protect.
I haven’t done a very good job so far.
I vow to do better.
Donny sobs against my shoulder, his nose running and wetting the dirty T-shirt I wear.
We don’t wear pants. The T-shirts are long enough that they cover our privates when we get up to use the makeshift toilet in the corner of the room.
I’m used to the smell now.
It no longer nauseates me.
I force myself to be used to most of it.
But I’ll never get used to listening to my brother sob. I’ll never get used to his cries for help. I’ll never get used to the image of masked men brutalizing his small body.
From now on, I vow, they won’t touch him.
I’ll do anything to make sure I take the brunt of what they have to give.
I tamp down my emotions and sniff back a tear.
I’m done crying.
No more.
I’m done.
Chapter Seven
Ashley
“Sure,” I finally say. “I’d love to taste the wine with you.”
“Wonderful. How about dinner tomorrow? My place?” He points to the ceiling.
“You live here?” I ask.
“Right above the bar. My father lived there until he married, and then he rented it out. I’ve been hanging my hat up there for the last ten years, since I moved out of my parents’ house.”
“All right. I work until six.”
“Seven, then?”
“Sure. No, wait. Let’s say seven thirty. It’s a half-hour drive, and I’ll need to clean up. I worked in the vineyards today.”
“You don’t look like it.”
“I had a shower, goofball.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” He winks.
“Who’ll be manning the bar?”
“I do have employees, you know.”
“Right.” Dumb question. Several waitresses and another bartender are here.
I turn to Jade. What must she be thinking? She knows how I feel about Dale. “Time for dinner?” I say.
“Yes. Thanks, Brendan. See you soon.”
“Absolutely. Tell Talon I said hi.”
