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Chapter Nineteen
XAN
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Lord help me, I thinkas I throw my vehicle into park outside the bar. And by Lord, I mean, whiskey. I jump out of my truck careful not to hit the black sedan parked beside me with the door and take a deep breath. Five minutes.
I promised him five minutes of my time, so he can ask me for money or whatever the fuck he’s going to do before he disappears again.
The bar is dark, and I blink to adjust to the dim lights. The bar is sprinkled with people eating, drinking, and watching the game on the big screen. Some I recognize, some I don’t. Del is scrubbing glasses with a scowl set so deep in her features it makes me regret telling him to meet me here.
My father is sitting at the bar chatting with a middle-aged customer completely oblivious to the hateful glare he’s getting from his own daughter. If Millie looked at me like that my world would crumble in and crush me. He says something and the woman laughs a shrill cackle, her mouth open and head back.
Del turns her glare to me. “Why did you bring him here?” She hisses.
“I’m sorry, I thought you were off today.”
“I was, but Riley called in sick. Now I’m sick. Sick of him showing up. It’s been two years, Xan. Why now?”
“That’s what I’m here to find out.”
“Find out fast and send him on his way before he goes to see Mom. You know what these trips do to her.”
I nod and step over to my father. Del’s right, he can’t make a stop to see Mom. We’ve finally got her coming out of her room and acting like a mother again to Tabby. Or as much of a mother as she’s capable of being.
“Jason,” I say, and he turns from his conversation with a young red haired woman nursing a beer at the bar. I gave up on calling my dad Dad many years ago. I decided the name needed to be earned. Now that I have Millie and am driven by this need to be worthy of her, I’m even more convinced this is true.
“Hey son,” he says holding out his hand, but my hands stay firmly in my sweater pockets.
“Make this quick. I have to pick up my daughter for practice.”
“I’d love to meet her, see her play,” Jason says, and I laugh.
“That’s not going to happen. What do you want?”
The woman next to him gets wide-eyed and uncomfortable so she slaps a ten down on the bar and moves.
“Sit?” Jason says and I don’t want to simply because he asked me to. My feet stay firmly planted. “I admire your stubborn nature. The Lord was generous when he made you so strong, son.”
I clench my jaw to avoid decking him square in the face. This in the eyes of God bullshit.
I have nothing against God and everything against the men who hide behind him.
“How much do you need?” I ask.
“What do you mean?” Jason may be charming, but it doesn’t work on me. I know better.
“How much money do you need?” I challenge him with my tone to not waste my time.
“None. That’s not why I came here.”
I don’t believe him, and I’m already exhausted by this encounter, so I perch on the edge of the seat.
“I need a favor.” He finally says.
My chin tips to my chest and the sigh that comes out is one of defeat.
“What happens if I say no?” I ask.
