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I attempted to get closer, but I chose not to. I didn’t want to have to see the damage I’d done. I saw steam escape her nostrils in the freezing air, an indication that she’d been breathing.
“She’s alive. But fuck, it’s so bad.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“What do I do?”
“Wait there for Gerald. I’ll have a tow truck come for your car and I’ll take care of the rest.”
“What about the girl?” I questioned.
“I said, I’ll take care of it.”
Everything after that was a blur for so long. I blocked out the memory of that night because it’s always been too painful. I’ve hated myself every day for hitting someone and driving off. Now knowing it was Sterling, the torment is a thousand times worse. I have to face what I’ve done, and what I allowed my father to do.
My driver, Gerald, dropped me off and I walked through the double glass doors of my all-too-familiar childhood home. I headed straight to the bathroom, turned on the faucet and noticed that my hands were shaking for the first time in my life. I splashed cold water over my face and looked in the mirror. I didn’t even recognize the person staring back at me.
I gripped the sink with my hands as I took a deep breath. I never felt so out of control before. My whole life had been made up of rules and regulations, like a damn contract handed over by my father.
I have cancer.
As I stared back at my reflection, my eyes clouded with dark circles and my deep brown hair was a scrambled mess. I thought about why I acted out when my father called me and told me he had cancer, why what he said angered me so damn much.
I have cancer.
He said it like it didn’t matter to him. Like it didn’t matter to me. And maybe it didn’t. Maybe I didn’t care, and I got pissed because he knew we were celebrating a big night, my first since I’d been in control of the company and as usual, he needed to steal the spotlight.
I looked back down at my hands, unable to stop them from trembling. How could I have been so fucking stupid? Why did I call my dad for help? Why did I seek answers from a man who caused me to react that way in the first place? I was so pissed off that the situation took a turn for the worse. But what pissed me off the most, what caused me to throw my fist into the mirror, was that I listened to him.
The glass shattered, spilling all over the counter, shards glistened with the running water. It didn’t shock me when I looked up and saw my dad standing in the doorway, staring at me behind unamused eyes. He turned back into the hallway. I reached over for the hand towel and cleaned up the blood from my knuckles before joining him.
“What’s your problem?” My dad took a seat at his desk and motioned for me to do the same, as I followed him into his office. The dark cherry wood of his desk seemed darker as the blackout curtains were pulled shut, leaving only the sconces stuck in the wall that provided dim lighting around us.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I shouted in question without thinking.
He shuffled his position in his chair.
“Don’t play dumb. You know what you did.” I tried to keep it together, but I couldn't control my irritation. This was exactly what he wanted to happen. He wanted me to need him for something.
“Callan. I understand this may seem-”
“Fucked up,” I finished his sentence.
“Yeah, sure. But you have to understand-”
“Fuck that. Don’t tell me what I have to understand. Do you have any idea how fucking selfish you are? I was on that road because of you! I was under the influence because of you!” My father was always one to try and weasel his way out of owning up to anything. And even if there wasn’t a bigger picture here, I’d still make a big deal about it. He was always trying to make everything about him; springing his illness on me on one of the biggest nights of my life is a prime example for starters.
“Are you mad at your carelessness or that I have cancer?” His question ticked in my ear. “Son, I didn’t ask for this disease. But you sure as hell didn’t need to lose control like that. You could have killed someone. You better be fucking thanking me for-”
“For what? For being a fucking hero and saving the day?” I leaned in my chair and loosened the tie around my neck as I huffed in frustration.
“Everything is taken care of,” he’d answered as he lit a cigar that he pulled from his stash.
“That’s all you’re going to give me?” I questioned, getting up from my chair.
“Your new car will be delivered in the morning. Everything is taken care of. Be lucky she didn’t die. A dead body is a lot harder to cover up.” He stopped as he dragged the cigar to and from his mouth, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. “Callan, this can't get out to anyone. Me being sick is bad enough. But you’re the CEO now, the owner of the business. If this got out...” He trailed off and it took me a second to process what the fuck had just happened. I started to realize that all I was able to do was to move on. What’s done was done, and the sooner I accepted that, the quicker I was able to get the hell out of here.
Sure, my dad’s audacious act of covering a hit and run was ludicrous at best, but better a hit and run no one knows about rather than a drinking and driving charge that could destroy my career.
