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His face crumbles with despair. “How could you even ask that? You're all I think about. All of this is about you.”
“Are you sure it isn't about you, too? I told you that you were right already, that what he did was wrong, and I will talk to him about it, but that's not good enough for you. I will get to the bottom of this, but damn it, you don't get to come over here ranting and raving and beating him when I beg you to stop. And that's what bothers me the most, Dad. I begged you to stop, and you wouldn't listen to me. You don't care how much this hurts me. All you want is revenge.”
Maybe I'm finally starting to get through to him. His breathing slows, and some of the tension drains from his face. “He broke into my home and placed a camera in your bedroom. He deserved to get his ass kicked for that.”
“Did you know he took a bullet for me? Of course, you did. You were at the hospital, but who cares about that, right? Who cares that he's healing from a wound in the very place you had to kick him. Don't tell me that was accidental. He took a bullet to save my life, and all you could think to do was kick him right where you knew it would hurt the most.”
“You wouldn't have ever been kidnapped, or in a situation to be shot at, if it hadn't been for him!” He tosses his hands into the air while blurting out a laugh. “Nothing I say gets through to you anymore. He's completely destroyed you. I don't even know who you are anymore.”
“No, the problem is you never knew me at all.”
Ken backs away, shaking his head. “I shouldn't be here for this.” He's right; he shouldn't be. I'm tired of pretending anything about this is normal. I'm tired of trying to be polite, tired of trying to do the right thing just to keep the peace. I'm tired of trying to make everyone else happy. It's exhausting, and truly, the only person who loses is me. I'm an adult who's old enough to make my own choices.
“Can I remind you of something that happened not very long ago?” When all he does is lift his chin, I continue, “Remember when you called that landlord and told them I wouldn't be moving in? Remember that? Remember when you made that decisionforme? When you made a fool out of me without even considering my feelings? Remember when you thought you knew so much better than I did?”
“Don't even try to compare me to him. There's no way you actually think that what I did came anywhere close to what he's done.”
“Oh no, but it is. You only did that because you wanted to protect me and keep me safe. I get it. I don't have to agree with it, but I can at least understand where you were coming from.”
“What's your point?”
“My point is, he's just like you. Maybe, just maybe, that's why you hate him so much.”
“Don't try to put us in the same box,” he warns, holding up a hand. “I'm nothing like that man. You don't get to twist around the past until it looks the way you want it to look. You know damn well what I've had against him for all these years.”
I'm angry. Angry at my Father. At Callum's past actions. I'm angry that I have no control over my own life, and I'm done being a doormat for others.
“Let me put this in the simplest terms for you. It's none of your damn business. You're not even a cop anymore. Why make taking him down your life's mission? What is it about him that makes you so bloodthirsty for revenge? Is it because you didn't like that he got away with the things he did?” I sigh in defeat.
“How many other people get away with those same things? Why didn't you go after any of them? If you ask me, it doesn't necessarily have to do with what he did ordidn'tdo that's got you angry. You grew obsessed with the need to pin a crime on him, and you became obsessed with making him pay because no one ever has, so you wanted to be the first.”
My father's lips press into a firm line, and it looks like he wants to say something, but I shake my head.
“If he put a camera in my room, it was because he wanted to see with his own eyes that I was safe. I can't pretend I understand why he thought that was a good idea, but I do understand his reasoning. Just like I understood yours even though I was furious with you at the time. You violated my trust and my privacy just as much as he did. And if you can't see that, then I don't know how to make you.”
“I should press charges.”
“Can you prove it was him? Can you prove any of this?” When all he does is sputter, I shake my head. “You should know, of all people, you have to have proof. The fact is, you don't know when that camera was placed there. And you don't know why it was there, to begin with. But, okay, sure, press charges. Make all of this even worse.”
I can see that I'm getting through to him as much as he wants to ignore every word I say. He is determined to live in his own twisted mind where I'm being held here against my will, and that my life is over because I love Callum.
“Dad, I love you,” I whisper, “but you're going to lose me if you refuse to let me live my own life. I'm not asking you to agree with my decisions, although I am asking you to respect them. I'm an adult, not a little girl anymore. You're going to be a grandfather, and you're out here beating the crap out of a man who happens to be my baby's father. Stop and take a look at yourself. Is this who you want to be? Because, right now, you are not the father I remember.”
“I just...” He puts his palms to his forehead, tipping his head back with closed eyes. “I just can't lose you, too. Don't you get that? I don't want to lose you to this violent world he lives in. You came so close this last time. What happens the next time someone comes after you, or the time after that? Because when you are close to a man like him, the attacks willneverstop. His enemies want to get to him, and they're going to do that by using you, and the baby,” he adds before I can open my mouth. “Telling me you care about that child in the same breath you tell me you want to stay with him, it doesn't add up, Bianca.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Callum is doing everything he can to keep us safe. I trust him.”
I've seen him look defeated more times than I even want to count in the past few weeks alone. However, nothing tops this, the way he hangs his head and almost seems to whither down inside his clothes. His shoulders hunch, his back stoops a little, and I get a flash of the old man he'll be one day. One day soon, if he doesn't clean up his act and get himself back on track.
I realize I'm part of the reason why he hasn't done that yet, and the guilt I feel is almost crippling, but no. I'm not responsible for his happiness or who he is. I'm not going to spiral out of guilt anymore. He chose to come here today, and all he did was drive a wedge between us. If he chooses to drink his life away or make other bad choices, they arehischoices. Just like my choices belong to me and nobody else.
“I think you should go home,” I tell him, my voice trembling with sadness and grief. Grief for everything he's going through, and for the distance between us.Mom would hate to see us like this, is I want to say, but that would be too cruel, so I don't. Although it weighs on my heart as I watch him back away.
“Please, Bianca. Please know that I only want what's best for you. You and the baby will be much safer back at the house. Away from his enemies and the dark, violent world he lives in. Nothing is keeping you here. You don't have to stay.”
“Your right,” I agree. “I don't have to be here. Only that's just it, I want to be. This is where I belong.”
His jaw works slowly, his eyes welling up with tears. He has more to say, I'm sure, but he just gets in the car. Ken looks saddened when our eyes meet, and I raise a hand to wave goodbye, shuddering to think what would have happened if he wasn't here—then again, it's not like he did much to keep Dad from making a complete ass of himself.
