I take another deep cleansing breath.
"Were you partying with those kids, dad?"
"Some of them were being too noisy in the hallway. I had to get them inside of the room before someone complained and I stayed. I figured I'd keep an eye on things. Plus, I guess I was a little bored in my room by myself."
Stupid.
"So go on. What happened after she made the accusations?”
"Like I said, she was screaming. Making a scene. I asked her numerous times to calm down. She said she couldn't. That she'd just been attacked and she wanted to know what I was going to do about it."
"Who did it?"
"She said it was Bobby Thornton, Tommy Newton and Chris Speedwell."
"A gang bang?!"
"Yes."
"And did you believe her?"
My father rubs his jaw sternly.
"Being a collegiate athlete comes with it's pros and cons. There's a lot of pressure put on you to perform, to win, to keep up your grades, to never make a mistake. It's a really heavy load for a young man."
I've heard this speech my entire life.
Over it.
"Dad, let me cut you off there. I don't care if that girl was drunk and rubbing her naked hoohah in that guy's face. That doesn't ever excuse having sex with a woman without her consent."
"That's not what I'm saying, Sloan."
"Then what are you saying?"
"I'm saying that sometimes the lines get muddled. Those boys get a yes so much and so often, that sometimes they think they've got a green light to go ahead when they really don't. Especially when you mix it with drugs and alcohol."
"They thought they had a green light to a gang bang?"
"A lot of these girls do consent to group sex."
"In porno movies maybe, but please continue with your story."
My father lets out an exasperated sigh.
"The boys started getting loud with her when they noticed what she was saying to me. There was name calling and raised voices. A few threats. It was getting out of hand and that's probably when I should have called for some help, but I didn't. I didn't want anyone finding out about the party, the attack, or the fact that I was there.
"Anyway, the girl and her friend felt like they were being ganged up on. They were scared. There were all these six and seven foot tall ball players, drunk, yelling at her. Threatening her. So her and her girlfriend started swinging. Like they were cornered animals. Teeth snarling and everything.
"It all happened so fast. I remember having my hands up in a defensive pose. Trying to calm her and the boys down at the same time, but somehow in the melee, she got hit. She fell and hit her head on the corner of the coffee table and that was it. I saw the light go out of her eyes instantly. I knew immediately that she was gone."
I am quiet for a moment. Thinking about that girl's last hour on earth. How frightened she must have been. How sad. Thinking about the many times my father had a chance to make a different decision.
"You don't know who hit her?"
"No one is stepping up and saying that they did it."
"Yes, but do you know who hit her."
"No, there were too many people. I can't say for sure."
I shake my head in disgust. Only my father would find himself in such a fucked up situation.
"I don't know what to say, dad."
"I just thought I should let you know the truth of what's going on. I haven't been brought in on any formal charges yet, but things aren't looking good. That girl's family is looking for blood...and money. So you know, just be careful about what you post on social media and all that for a while. Keep a low profile."
My father finishes the last swig of his drink and slowly gets up. Grimacing a little as he rises on his arthritic knees and a battle worn lower back. All in all, my father is pretty calm, and saying all the right things, but I can tell that he's stressed and that there may be something else he isn't saying.
"Is there anything else?"
"I just...well I think my lawyer may need some help."
"What kind of help?"
“Like finding out who actually is responsible may be my only chance. It's hard though. I don't just want to go around asking my kids to rat on each other."
"This is your life though.”
"I know. It's just...maybe someone else should do the asking."
"Yeah, like the police or your lawyer."
"Listen I know that you are in the middle of planning your wedding, and that I haven't been the most supportive father of your relationship, but I need Cutter's help. Without it I think the police have already made their decision on who the murderer is. Me."
Shit.
"I know this is a big ask, but I'm desperate, Sloan."
I'm conflicted. I don't want my father to go to jail, but I also don't want to ask Cutter to do this. I've been reluctant to make a commitment to the apartment, to the wedding date, but then I ask him to take my father on as a fix? Not cool. Not fair.
"I'll let you know, dad."
My father startles me by kissing me on the cheek. Something he hasn't done probably since the day I graduated from college.
"Thank you, pumpkin."
That's how I know, that he’s desperate. I at least have to ask.