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“That doesn’t explain how I got into those schools.”
“By then, I had something on Stratton, right? The amount he’d have to pay in child support and alimony in a divorce settlement with his wife would be astronomical. So, we came to an agreement. I’d take care of him when he needed it, and he’d take care of you.”
“I can’t believe you. I can’t believe you would lie to me for all these years. It wouldn’t take much for someone to find out who was paying and then what?”
“It was the risk I took to give you a good education.” She looks around. “Fat lot of good it did since you ended up in a motorcycle club.”
“A club that saved you from being raped and beaten for the rest of your life.”
“And I’m forever grateful. I love the boys, and they take good care of me. I just wish you had done something better with your life, like Jenson.”
“You’d rather me be a rich asshole that treats people like shit?”
My blood boils. He’s known the adult version of me for twenty-four hours and has already made his judgments. I’m not the same cocky prick I was back in high school. Even after everything we’ve done together, his opinion of me hasn’t changed.
“I’d rather you be on the right side of the law and making honest money.”
“If that’s how you feel, maybe you should leave so you don’t have to be around us lowlifes anymore.”
“You’re mad. I get it. Take some time to think it through. You’ll see why I did all the things I did.” She steps around him. “I’m not saying I don’t love the man you are. I’m just saying, this isn’t the life I had hoped for you.”
She walks away, leaving Mike staring at her retreating form.
Unable to stay in this small space any longer, I step outside, ready to get the hell out of here. As I walk past Mike, his expression makes me pause. He’s really torn up about this, and somehow, I feel responsible. I’ve been cleaning up Dad’s messes for years now. Dementia has slowly been taking his mind, making him rash and forgetful. But he’s a proud man and refused to step down or tell anyone what was going on with his health. While what he did with Mike’s mom can’t be explained away by his illness, I still feel like I should make this better.
“You heard?” he asks, shoulder slumped.
“Yeah, and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” He tucks his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry about what I said about you. I was heated.”
“I know. But I still feel like I should mention that you don’t know me anymore. I’m not perfect, but I’m not a hormonal, arrogant teenager either.”
“I get that.” His brown eyes meet mine. “You wanna get out of here?”
“And go where?”
“For a ride? It’s how I clear my head.”
I shouldn’t. For one, I need to get back to the office. I’ve already been absent for too long. And two, nothing good can come from spending more time with Mike. That’s been proven over and over ever since our paths crossed yesterday.
“Sure.” Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
“Come on.”
I follow him around to the front of the clubhouse. He walks over to a motorcycle, where I’m assuming he’s grabbing his wallet or something, but no, he thrusts a helmet in my direction.
“I can’t ride on that,” I say.
“Why not?”
“I’m in a suit.”
“Afraid to get a little dirty?” he taunts.
“No.” I take the helmet. “What about you?”
“After the day I’ve had, I’d be lucky to splatter my brains on the freeway.”
