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“I set up an appointment to get the AC serviced and gave you the money for it. What happened?” Declan asked.
“It started working fine again, so I canceled it. But now the damn thing won’t blow cool air at all.”
That was why he’d called Declan over after midnight?
“Jesus Christ. You spent the money?”
“I had shit I needed. I ordered it online.”
Declan ignored him and made his way into the house.
The man took one look at me and said, “Who the fuck are you? Are you one of those podcast guys? You look familiar.”
Declan had known Parker, Marcus, and Corbin most of his life, yet his dad didn’t know what they looked like? That said a lot. I opened my mouth, but Declan replied before I could. “A friend.”
“What the fuck is he doing here?” He turned to me. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“He’s here because I want him to be.”
“Oh, that kinda friend, huh? You’re sticking it to my son?”
I stumbled, not expecting him to say that, and sure as hell not knowing how to respond.
“Jesus Christ, Dad.” Dec ran a hand through his hair.
When our eyes met, I could see the shame in them. He looked like he wanted to disappear. I had to clench my jaw not to respond, not to tell this man what I thought of him, but I didn’t know if it was my place. I didn’t want to do anything to screw things up with Dec.
Declan said, “I’ll help you open the windows, set the fans up, and then I’m going home. I’ll call someone to come look at the AC tomorrow.”
“That’s not going to help me tonight. A couple of fans aren’t going to do shit. This is just like you—giving me this shitty place to stay, then going home to your comfortable apartment. You probably brought him over so the two of you can sit around and laugh at me afterward. You’ve always been like this. Don’t care about anyone but yourself.”
Declan ignored him, pulling one of the fans from the box. I started working on the second one, but his dad wasn’t deterred. He followed Declan to the window, which he fought to open.
“I know you think you’re better than me, but you’re not. Always doing something to get attention. Kid hardly spoke when he was younger, couldn’t get a damn word out of him. His mama thought something was wrong with him, but I knew it was just for attention. He thought he was better than us then, and he does now too. Thank God she’s not around to—”
“That’s enough!” I spit out, venom for this man in every syllable I spoke. “Declan dropped what he was doing to come here and help, and all you’ve done is be abusive since the second he walked through the door—hell, from the phone call too.”
“I don’t know who the hell you think you are talking to me in my own house this way, but—”
“But nothing. He’s your son—your son. What’s wrong with you to treat him this way? You don’t deserve him. You didn’t when he was a child, and you sure as shit don’t deserve him now. He’s an incredible man who would do anything for those he loves despite growing up with parents as angry and hateful as you. You should be ashamed of yourself to treat him this way. If it were up to me, he would walk out this door right now and never step back inside. Declan is kind, loving, and…” And I was pretty sure I loved him. How had this happened? “And he deserves better than this. He deserves to have the whole damn world if he wants it.”
I was afraid Declan would be angry that I’d overstepped my bounds, but when my gaze met his, there was awe in his stare. Like he couldn’t believe I would stick up for him, couldn’t believe the way I saw him. Did he really not know how incredible he was? How much I cared about him?
“Who the hell do you think you are? You get the fuck out of my house. I don’t want him here again, Declan. Do you hear me?” he shouted.
I watched as Declan finished opening the window and then stood tall. “We’re going to head out. You can handle this.”
“You didn’t set them up or open the other windows. I—”
“You can handle it yourself!” Declan shouted back, anger setting fire to his words. “And I’m not going to be your punching bag anymore.”
He took my hand, and the two of us left together.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Declan
I didn’t speak much as Sebastian drove us back to his house. I was embarrassed over how my father had acted, but even more than that, I was embarrassed I’d let him. I wasn’t the guy who took shit from people. I spoke my mind and didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought of me. So why did I let my dad push me around and take advantage of me? Why, after all these years, did I still give a shit about him?
