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Chapter 4
Brianna
“Have you gotten yourself into trouble?” I ask, cold and harsh.
I’ve spent years at dad’s side, fending for him and trying to make him whole.But I refuse to do it now, especially if we’re facing real danger. I used to resent him for it. He stripped me of my childhood and drank himself into a stupor every night while the world drifted past him.
Then I remember he never used to be like this. When I was a girl, dad had a good heart and firm grip on life. He worked hard to provide us with a good life. But when mom passed away, something snapped inside of him. He turned from the duty-bound hard worker into an easygoing drunk who could barely stand in the morning, let alone operate heavy machinery on the docks. He lost his job, and the best years of my life went with it.
And I want to blame him for it, to kick and scream and tear him to shreds for making me grow up way before my time. I can’t. I never could. I knew it when Mickey busted in our door and started making those threats.
Sure, it brought me a sick satisfaction to watch dad squirm, but I don’t want anything bad to happen to him. Not really.
“You mean those Irish chaps? No, hon, they aren’t any trouble,” Dad says. He’s lying straight to my face and isn’t doing a good job. I can hear the quiver hovering in his voice and see how his throat strains at the thought of Mickey.
“No, not with them. I had a run-in with some Italians last night.”
I don’t mention Mickey and how he saved me. One question would lead to another, and I’d probably keel over and faint at the thought of our electrifying kiss.
“Italians? What did they do to you?” If dad sounded concerned at the thought of Mickey, he’s practically pissing his pants over the Italians.
I stare into the small, handheld mirror while I tap a brush covered in concealer over my face. Hard conversations are easier to deal with if I have something to keep me preoccupied. And though it’s not the most glamorous thing in the world, applying makeup for work is much easier than seeing my dad crumble.
“I don’t know. Ollie scared them off before they could tell me,” I say. Ollie, the Moonshine Saloon’s barman, bought me some time, but he wouldn’t risk his life for me.
Mickey, on the other hand, threw himself into harm’s way to ensure I got by safely.
How will I ever repay him . . .
Well, I can think of one way.
“He’s a good man, that Ollie. Always liked him.”
“You’re avoiding my question.” I shut the clasp of the handheld mirror and give dad my full attention. “Have you gotten yourself in trouble? Real trouble? With dangerous men that want to hurt you.”
Dad opens his mouth to speak but shuts it just as fast. He wanted to tell another lie but opted instead to walk over to the living room window. His eyes drift longingly into the distance.
“I needed money, and they were offering.”
“You had a debt with M—” I cut myself off before I say his name. “With the Irish. How could you take out another loan?”
“We was gonna lose the house if I didn’t.”
“I gave you money for rent.” Anger strikes deep in my core and threatens to spill to the top.
“Which I promptly spent on groceries.” Dad shrugs.
“I gave you money for food too.” Not that our empty cupboards and fridge would be an indicator of it.
“What do you want me to say, Bree?” He faces me, raising his hands in the air. I’ve seen him upset before, but this is a different level. He doesn’t look like he wants to cry; he’s defeated and scared. “I threw it down the bottom of a bottle. Is that what you want to hear?” A shrill panic coats his words.
It’s not satisfying to see him like this. Hungover and on the verge of tears isn’t a good look on him.
“I’m sorry,” he says defeatedly. “I know I’ve done wrong by you, and I’m sorry. But you don’t know how hard it is to raise a young child without guidance.”
“Don’t turn this around.” I clutch a fist at my side. I wouldn’t know how to use it, even if I wanted to, but it’s the best way I can vent my frustrations. “It’s hard for you, but you can’t go around making these stupid decisions. I need a dad sometimes, too. I can’t always be the rock that keeps on giving. It’s not easy for me either.”
I force the tears that threaten to return to wherever they came from. I put extra effort into my makeup today because someone special might pay me a visit. I won’t ruin my efforts on a tough conversation that should’ve been had years ago.
