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“I guess we’ll have to wait and see.” I glance over the group. “I’ll see you guys later?”
“Don’t forget about brunch.”
I roll my eyes and start for the door. “How could I?”
“I mean it, Smalls.”
I lift my hand in a wave, pushing the front door open. “Yeah, yeah.”
As soon as the door is closed behind me, I let out a shaky breath and unlock my phone just as another message comes through.
Unknown: What will it be Jade? You or Nixon?
As if there’s even a choice.
Me: You’ll leave him alone.
Me: Tell me when and where, and I’ll meet you.
* * *
I push open the door, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. It took me a while to find the bar Dad suggested, which was good. I knew if I wanted to do this, I couldn’t have it anywhere that I might by chance stumble on my brother or anyone else who might recognize me in the process because if Nixon were to find out what I was about to do… Well, he’d probably kill me.
Too late to worry about that now.
I take in the space around me. The high tables, dark wooden bar, barely visible splotches on the floor that could be either from spilled beer, based on the stale smell in the air, or dried blood from some fight. Considering the crowd in here, the jury was still out.
A few older guys who spotted me the moment I entered the bar are still staring at me, making an uncomfortable shiver run down my spine. I make a point of ignoring them, grateful for the jeans and sweater I’m wearing because I don’t need any more unsolicited eyes on me. I walk through the bar and quickly scan over the patrons until I find a familiar face seated in one of the booths in the back.
Thank fuck.
He looks up, his dark eyes meeting mine as I make my way to him, sliding into the booth opposite him. He looks just like I remember, and yet, not. The last year hasn’t been kind to Dad. His shoulders are slouched forward, wrinkles around his eyes more defined, and the corner of his mouth is cemented in an eternal frown. His golden hair is streaked with more gray than the last time I’d seen him, and there is a week’s worth of stubble covering his jaw.
“You came.”
I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him. “You didn’t leave me much of a choice, now, did you?”
“Jade…” he drawls exasperatedly.
“Father,” I reply in the same manner, raising my brow.
His fingers curl around the glass of amber liquid sitting in front of him. Whiskey, most likely. It was always his drink of choice.
“I just want to talk. Is that so much to ask?”
“Considering you didn’t find it in you to talk to me for the past…” I tap my finger against my chin, pretending to think. “Eighteen months, was it?” I shrug. “Whatever. Either way, I don’t see the reason for your sudden need to change that.”
“I’ve missed you. Can’t a father miss his daughter?”
I let out a humorless laugh, “You didn’t seem to have the same problem when you turned your back on your kids and walked away.Twice.”
Call me petty and bitter all you want, but I refuse to be made a fool all over again. Father or not.
He runs his hand over his face, and it doesn’t escape my notice of how tired he looks. Howold.
Ever since I was born, I was Daddy’s little girl. My dad was my whole world, my hero. Until the moment that he walked away from our family when I was eighteen, leaving me alone to help Mom while she was fighting cancer for the second time. For a while, I hoped that it was just a rough patch, and we would get through it. After all, Mom beat it once. I was convinced she would do it again until it became apparent that she couldn’t.
I didn’t lose just my mother; I lost both my parents in a matter of months. The only difference was one was taken from me, and the other chose to walk away.
