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But I look back over my shoulder toward the barn, toward Bomber, and I wonder how I’m going to pay for that horse, or if I’m stuck leaning on the kindness of Kat and Ford forever.
Chapter24
War
“You don’t have to do this,” Dad says but I don’t see him offering to go inside in my place.
“It’s fine.” I put the car in park and listen to the Chicago traffic buzz past. Men and women hurry by on the sidewalk, and I stare at the Greek restaurant on the opposite side of the street, at the big blue sign that says ZORBO’S and the men sitting out front drinking from small coffee cups. Two big guys wearing the kind of jackets that can easily hide a gun.
“You’re a good son,” Dad says, grinning and awkwardly pats my shoulder. “You’re really saving my life here, you know that.”
I take a slow, deep breath, and let it out. “When this is over, I’m driving you to the airport.”
“Sorry?” I look at him and his smile falters.
It’s been a week since I left Leader’s Ranch. One week, and in that time I haven’t heard anything about Melody or Daisy or her father. I’ve been out of communication with them on purpose—I can’t stand to face that mess, not yet at least. I still have the paperwork Daisy gave me and the job’s rustling around in the back of my mind, but I have other plans for that.
Right now, I need to deal with this. If there’s anything I learned from Melody, it’s that family can kill faster than a bullet, and letting those wounds fester only makes it worse.
Which means I need to take care of my problems, and do it fast, because I’ve let them hang around for long enough already.
“This is the end for you, Dad.”
He tilts his head, looking confused. “End how?”
“There’s cash in the glove compartment. Enough for a flight and a few months of living expenses. You’re going to take that money, buy an international ticket somewhere far away, and you’re never, ever coming back to the States.”
His eyes narrow and he leans back against the door, studying me. “I like it here,” he says. “Why would I leave, especially after you solve my problem?”
“Because I’m not going to solve it. I’m kicking the can down the road and taking the risk on myself. And in return for buying you more time, you’re going to disappear.”
“I don’t think so.”
My hand snaps out. I catch my father’s shirt and grab it tight, yanking him toward me as my lips pull back in a snarl. Dad’s eyes widen in shock and I slam my forehead into his nose, ramming it hard with a sharp crack. He gasps in pain and I shove him back, breathing hard. His hands fly up as he groans, but I didn’t hit him hard enough to break anything, the lucky bastard.
“The fuck did you do that for?” he asks, prodding at his nose and cheeks.
“I need you to understand how serious I am. You are going to leave the country. You arenotgoing to contact Mom ever again.”
“That’s mywife,” he says through his teeth. “God, this is going to freaking bruise. When did my boy become so damn violent?”
“Since I had to fend for myself, thanks to you. And she’s not your wife any longer. I’ll send you the papers to sign.” I lean closer, holding my old man’s gaze. “Before you tell me no, here’s the deal. If you leave the country and cut all ties, you’ll keep on living. But if you speak to Mom, if you set foot on American soil, if you do anything to piss me off, I will tell Kazan where you are, and I’ll hire him to go kill you myself if I have to. Do you understand?”
Dad holds my gaze. I don’t look away. I’ve finally reached my limit, and now I’m ready to get rid of my father and move on with my life. For so long I kept waiting for him to fix himself, to become the man I wanted him to be, but I’m finally realizing that nothing ever changes and nobody ever gets better. My father will always be this way, always be a problem, at least until he finally crosses a line and gets himself or the people around him killed.
Which means I have to be finished. I won’t let this wound fester, not forever.
“How much cash?” he asks.
I push open the door. “Just go now. Key’s in the ignition.”
He moves over to the driver’s side as I stand in the street. “You really got me good there, son.” Dad grins at me out the window. “You know, maybe I could go back to Spain for a while.”
“Forever.”
“Sure, right. You wouldn’t really kill me, would you?” I turn and stare at him. He clears his throat and starts the car. “Well, uh, I guess this is goodbye.”
“Don’t call. Don’t contact Mom. I’ll find you, and I’ll send the divorce papers.”
