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Tyler glares, his shoulder-length hair such a startling contrast to his father’s perpetually trimmed and neat cut. He has his father’s height, though I’m struck as I was at the ill-fated birthday party by the slightness of his build. He doesn’t spend time in the gym like his father does.
Doesn’t mean he can’t feel menacing. The scowl in his eyes matches the one on his lips. “You two are living together?”
I put another step between us. “No. He let my son and me stay here a few days.”
He snorts like a charged up bull, then his octave lowers and turns ominous. “Better watch yourself with him.”
I catch his drift. Sorry, John is not the one I’m afraid of, not like that. I brush away a piece of hair that was fine where it was. “I was just leaving. Like I said, your father’s not home.”So back up so I can lock up.
Not only does he not get out of my way, he slips around me into the house, grinning nastily at my recoil as he brushes past. “I’ll wait.”
Leaving Tyler in John’s home, given their relationship, feels like the wrong move. What can I do, though? I’m hardly in a position to enforce a command. Besides, the anger sloughing off him makes him unpredictable.
Know what? He’s John’s son, John’s problem.
Tyler’s gaze taunts me as he holds his ground a few feet deep into the house. I create a smile out of nothing that I actually feel and lay my hand on the doorknob. “Like I said, I was on my way out.”
“Bye-bye.” His fingers flap in a sarcastic wave.
My feet stall on the threshold. John may be imperfect, but Tyler’s malicious, toxic hate is misplaced. I about face, skimming my eyes across his bitter smirk. “Do you genuinely believe that your dad murdered your mother?”
Tyler’s mouth hangs open, only dead air making its way out.
“I didn’t think so.” I return one step deeper into the house. “Accusing him of murder is really just an excuse to get revenge for him not being a great father, isn’t it?”
The shock fades. My spine tingles at the way his face contorts. “He was the worst father.” He grinds out the superlative like the nastiest curse.
Something holds me in place. “The worst? I could tell you about the worst.”
He rakes greasy hair from his face, smirking. “Go right ahead.”
I itch to put him in his place—but some things are too personal and, given the audience, would probably only be trampled like pearls before swine. “No. I don’t trust certain things to just anybody. But I will say this, think long and hard before you cut your father completely from your life. Goodness only knows you’re not the first kid with a dad who made mistakes, and there are young men everywhere who can only dream of having a dad whocanhave a relationship with them andwantsto have a relationship with them. But,” I spread out my palms, “if you’re so sure of yourself and your own fatherly perfection with that precious little boy I met, then you go right ahead and burn your bridges and cast your stones.”
I put my hand on the door. “And pray that in twenty years you gambled and won.”
Chapter 34
John
“You sound tired.”
Tired? More like empty.
Alone.
On the way home after leaving my signature on one lousy document, I’m stuck behind yet another freeway-snarling wreck. I prop my elbow on the door and lean into my fist. “I am tired, Dad.” I should have let voicemail field this call. “It’s been quite a week.”
“Son, it’s only Monday.”
Oh, right. “Well, quite a month. How about that?”
Dad’s chuckle is without real humor. “What’s up?”
“The usual.” The usual, plus.
“Nah, it’s more than that. I hear it in your voice. This have anything to do with the woman you’ve been seeing?”
I straighten. “Who said I was seeing someone?”
