Leighton
“This is a great split layout,” the realtor says as she shows us the fourth apartment of the morning. “Two bedrooms on one side with a shared bathroom, and a master suite on the other. And the price isn’t much more than the two bedroom we just looked at.”
My dad and I exchange a look. I want a three-bedroom because I want him to stay, but he thinks I only need a two-bedroom because he’s still leaning toward returning to Denver. When he doesn’t automatically discount this place, I take heart.
“Or we could go see a few houses for rent,” the realtor adds. “All three-bedroom, two-bath homes with garage spaces as well.”
I shake my head, giving her a polite smile. “We want to stick with an apartment for now. Not ready to take on yard maintenance at this point.”
This is especially true if my dad returns to Denver. Even though Sam is approaching the age where he could help with outside chores, it’s just not something he’ll be able to take on at this time. I’d rather do a year in an apartment, and then—if I have a good-enough job—maybe we could consider moving to a house. Perhaps even get a dog.
My dad and the realtor start talking about the difference in the cost of utilities between the two and three-bedroom apartments, and I move into the master suite. I’d give this room to my father if he stayed, and I’d share the other side with Sam.
Of course, if August had anything to do with the decision, we’d be a permanent addition to his household.
Last night, we had quite the talk about it.
It did not end well.
I’d expected him, of course. Knew he’d do that soft-knock-on-the-door thing and want me to come to his room after Sam fell asleep.
His expression when I’d declined had been priceless. We’d stood at the door with it opened just a few inches while we had a heated, whispered exchange.
“I am not going to have sex with you,” I’d asserted in the softest voice I could manage while still being heard. “Not with your parents just across the hall. Just… no.”
His expression had turned all mischievous and sly. “Panties in the mouth. Remember? No worries.”
“No, August,” I’d maintained. The immediate frown I got assured me that he was taking me seriously.
“Well, I still need to talk to you about something important,” he’d said. “So put on a robe and come to my room.”
I’d just stared with one eyebrow raised in complete suspicion.
He growled. “I swear… just to talk. Now come on.”
Ultimately, I put on my robe and went to his room. He’d been sitting on the edge of the bed when I walked in, and I closed the door behind me so we could talk in normal voices.
He’d perused my body with something close to yearning regret over the fact I wasn’t going to give in to him tonight, but he maintained a respectful distance. Crossing his arms over his chest, he said, “There’s no reason for you to go look at apartments tomorrow. You and Sam can stay here.”
I was immediately pissed. How he’d missed the sarcasm in my voice was beyond me. I’d replied, “Oh, we can, can we? That’s very generous.”
“Not really,” he said with a shrug. “I mean… there’s plenty of room, and I make more than enough money to support us all.”
“I don’t need your support,” I’d replied. I think it was the flatness of my voice that alerted him that perhaps he’d started off on a bad foot.
August rose, standing before me. Hands to my shoulders, he’d bent in close. “I didn’t mean it like that. I know you’re more than capable. You’ve proven that. But I’m just thinking about what’s best for Sam. You know he wants to stay here. He likes us all being together.”
“I know he does,” I’d stiffly admitted. And I found it abysmal he would play the “Sam Card”.
Regardless of the fact I was clearly not happy with the direction of the conversation, he plowed on. “You’re the mother who always does what’s best for Sam… and it’s best everyone stays here.”
I’d merely folded my arms over my chest, dislodging his hands. “It’s true,” I’d said somberly. “I have always done what’s best for Sam, often putting my own happiness aside. But, in this instance, I think I’m going to take myself into consideration for once. I don’t believe staying here would be the best idea. There’s no way in hell I’m going to be separated from Sam, though, so I’m going to get my own place. I’ll make sure it’s close by for convenience sake. Sam is going to live with me, but you can visit him as much as you want. He can stay the night with you whenever he wants. That’s what is best for all of us.”
“How can you even say that?” August had replied, his voice laced with anger and disbelief. “You have a good deal going on here.”
I still can’t believe he’d said that.
I’d been speechless for a moment, gaping, until I’d suddenly overflowed with words. “A good deal?” I’d hissed.
His eyes flared in surprise.
“A good deal?” I’d repeated. “You think living in a home that’s not mine, doing your cooking and cleaning, taking care of a cancer-riddled child, and being available at your whim to fuck is a good deal?”
August hadn’t responded, just watched me warily.
“Granted… taking care of Sam is a pleasure. Cleaning house and cooking meals are responsibilities I don’t mind. But being installed in a guest room while having you sneak into my room to quietly fuck me so our son doesn’t find out is abhorrent to me. Being nothing more than your plaything when we used to be so much more is simply insulting, and I’m done with it.”
“Leighton,” he’d murmured, his eyes sympathetic.
“Don’t,” I’d warned, holding my hands up. “This conversation is over. I appreciate you letting us stay here—I do—and I’m going to continue to take you up on that offer until we can realistically move into a new place. But the only things we’re sharing from now on are the duties involved in raising our child. Don’t ask for anything else from me.”
August had reached out toward me. If he’d touched me, I might have reconsidered the finality of my words.
I’d decided to take the safest bet… and fled from his room.
He had not chased after me.
Hadn’t spoken to me this morning, either, which was also fine by me.
“What do you think?” the realtor asks after sneaking up behind me in the master suite.
I startle, but then give her a tentative smile. “I need to think about the choices, but what you’ve presented so far is sufficient. It’s going to boil down between the two- and-three bedrooms, and my dad and I have to talk. If he stays, we’ll want the three-bedroom. If not, the two will be fine.”
She nods, clearly disappointed I’m not chunking down a deposit already.
“I’ll have an answer to you by tomorrow,” I promise. “And I’ll be able to bring the deposit to you then.”
She perks up, beaming.
As my dad and I head to the car, he asks, “Want to get some lunch?”
“Sure,” I reply easily. We need to have a come-to-Jesus meeting. I need a solid answer from him on if he’s leaving or staying so I can move on with my life as well.
“How about the Grande Casino?” he suggests. “They have a great buffet.”
My lips curl upward, and I chuckle. “That’s where your mysterious lady friend works, right? Will I get a peek at her?”
“I thought I’d introduce you to her,” he says, and I blink in surprise. He shrugs. “I mean… if I stay, you might as well know I like her.”
“Then why don’t you just commit to staying?” I ask with a sigh of frustration. “If she’s that special, I don’t see why you would even consider—”
“It’s because I’m a danger,” my dad cuts in over me.
“August doesn’t think so,” I point out.
My dad sighs. “Yeah… I know, so let’s go through it all again over lunch. We’ll talk about it some more.”
That’s progress, which makes me happy. “All right. Let’s do this. Lunch and meeting your lady friend.”
♦
The Grande Casino isn’t all that grand compared to many of the other casinos, but it has an old Vegas charm to it. Dad’s so-called “lady friend” is actually a blackjack dealer. She’s on duty when we arrive. When we walk by her table, he makes brief eye contact with her.
Enough that I notice her eyes lighting up when she spots him and my dad smiling in a way I’ve never, ever seen him do before. My mom died when I was two. I have no memories of her, but when I used to imagine what they were like together—when my dad would talk about her in such a way I knew they’d had true love—I imagined they might look at each other that way.
One thing is for sure… this woman is my ace-in-the-hole to finally make Dad commit to staying—if I can just convince him the danger is no greater with him here.
My dad texts her—Marilyn—that we’re going to grab lunch if she wants to join us on her next break. He clearly knows her schedule because he says, “She’ll probably be about fifteen minutes.”
Looping my arm through his and leaning into him as we walk through the casino toward the buffet restaurant, I impart a little teasing. “Dad,” I drawl, making myself sound like a pouty, drama-filled teenager, “you didn’t tell me how pretty she is. Or how young, for that matter. What is she… in her forties, maybe? Look at you go.”
My dad snorts, shaking his head. “Oh, stop it. And you wonder why it has taken me this long to introduce you.”
“You’ve known her for what… a month?” I laugh. “It’s more than enough time.”
I expect my dad to give me more grief, and I’m fully prepared to dish it back. Instead, he stops cold in his tracks. My blood turns to ice when I see the look on his face.
Absolute terror.
I whip my head over to see his gaze pinned to a roulette table where two dark-haired men in expensive-looking suits are playing. They both have mixed drinks on the table beside them and fat cigars in their hands.
My dad doesn’t have to say a word. I can tell by the expression on his face that these men must be from the mob family we’ve been hiding from for the last ten years.
One says something and the other laughs… just as he raises his head and makes direct eye contact with me.
He doesn’t know me, of course, so his gaze starts to slide away, but then immediately snaps to my dad.
I only have a fraction of a second to see the man frown—that look that says maybe you know someone but you’re not sure—before my father has me whipped in the opposite direction and he’s dragging me through the casino. He cuts a hard right through a line of slot machines, and we attempt to blend in with the midday crowd.
Having no clue if the men recognized my dad or if they’re in pursuit, I can’t help but continuously look over my shoulder as we make a break for it.
I can’t see anything—just people milling about—but I can’t shake the feeling we’re in mortal danger.
It seems to take forever, but we finally make it out of the casino. We speed-walk down the street. It’s half a block before we make another right and cross the street to the parking garage. Dad has an iron grip on my arm, tugging me along even though I have no problem going faster than we already are. I feel weighed down by panic, but I don’t see the men coming after us.
Doesn’t mean we haven’t been made, though.
Those men could have had other men in the casino or out on the street.
We hustle through the garage. “Give me your keys,” my dad orders.
I reach into my purse, then press them into his hand without argument. When we reach my car, we fling ourselves into it.
As Dad revs the engine and puts it in reverse, I frantically scan the area, but don’t see anything alarming. My dad doesn’t waste time. He pulls out of the spot, making sharp turns as fast as possible—without being too dangerous—to get us out of the parking garage.
“Was that—”
“Yeah,” my dad says bitterly, and it hits me… our entire world has once again been upended.
Dad pulls out onto the street. Luckily, the first light we come to is green, so we sail on through. Periodically glancing in the rearview mirror, my dad mutters, “I don’t think anyone is following us.”
“We can’t go to August’s house,” I say. “Sam’s there.”
“I know,” he replies flatly. It hits me then that we don’t have a home anymore as of this moment. “Call August. Tell him to find us somewhere safe.”