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I remember it now, the way Dani didn’t enjoy hanging out at my house, always trying to find a reason to relocate to hers instead. She was making an effort not to be where my father was.
And it never occurred to me to wonder why.
The pang of guilt is real, that Dani felt like she couldn’t confide in me, and that I was too blind to see the truth. “I wish I’d known. I would have stopped him.”
She chews her lip. “I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. He’s your father. You’ve always idolized him and he was all you had. I couldn’t take that away from you.”
“NO!” I didn’t mean to shout and she’s startled. I take a breath and lower my volume. “He had absolutely no right to make you feel uncomfortable no matter who he is.” I move closer to the best friend I’ve ever had, will ever have. “I would have believed you. Don’t think for a second that I wouldn’t have.”
She grabs me in a hug. “I’m sorry, Tess. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. And you didn’t take anything from me.He did.”
She pulls away, hearing the fresh bitterness in my voice. “Something’s wrong.”
Many things are wrong. One more than any other.
I slump against the fridge. “I should have gone with him, Dani.”
She understands we are no longer talking about my father. “Stop. There’s no point in beating yourself up. Micah will be back here tomorrow. You can tell him that yourself.”
“He thinks I’m a coward.” The chill of the fridge seeps through my clothes. I rub my arms. “He’s right.”
Dani purses her lips. “The last thing you are is a coward, Tess.” The look on her face becomes smug. “By the way, Micah behaved himself the whole time he was in Vegas. Just trained and fought and spent his nights all alone in his hotel room binge watching zombie apocalypse shows.”
I snort out a laugh. “You interrogated him?”
She shakes her head. “No, he volunteered that intel with no prompting. I’m sure he was hoping I’d pass it along to you so there it is. I’m fulfilling my chosen role. Do you want to look in the fridge and see if there’s enough ingredients to cobble together something resembling a salad?”
“Sure.” It’s fun, helping her in the kitchen. Reminds me of all the happy years we shared an apartment. Plus, I appreciate the distraction. Without it, I might zip back downtown and scream a lot of very awful things in my father’s face.
If I did, he would deserve them all.
Dinner is mostly a Matilda-dominated event, but I’m relieved she doesn’t ask me any pointed questions about her son. She opens one of her vintage wine bottles, drinks three quarters of it herself and complains about various people I’ve never heard of.
Charlotte sits across from me. I’m forced to keep stifling laughter because she constantly makes hilarious faces every time her mother pops off.
However, a sense of desolation takes over once I’m back in my own car, rolling the short distance to my empty house down the street. Adding to today’s unpleasant events is a new and awful suspicion about my father.
When I’m in the garage of my house with the engine cut, I pull my phone out and type in the name Dr. Reggie Spigato.
Two minutes later, I drop the phone on my lap and smack the steering wheel hard enough to hurt my hand.
“You son of a bitch.”
Chapter20
Micah
By the time I coast into town I’m clawing sleep out of my eyes and trying not to slide off the road.
An all night drive across a dull, flat landscape will do that.
The east side is as forbidding and dark as ever but it’s a welcome sight. My apartment hasn’t been ransacked in my absence, which is good news, and after hauling all my shit up the stairs I’m about ready to smack into the nearest wall if my brain doesn’t take a break.
You know you’ve really hit the limit if you’re a chronic insomniac who drops down and falls asleep on top of the covers with your clothes on.
The next time I’m conscious, the room is filled with the gray light of a cloudy morning. I waste no time showering off and heading out the door to grab breakfast on the way to West Emerald.
