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“You’re going to speak to Sophie and Jessika?” Ethan asks, leaning against my counter and sipping a coffee. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“I have to face these people eventually, Ethan. I owe it to them to at least apologize for what I did. They don’t have to forgive me, but they deserve that.”
“Yeah, they do, but it’s a big deal. It could bring up things for them that they don’t want to face . . .”
I shrug, because, well, I have to do this, no matter what it brings up for them. I completely understand that seeing me might remind them of a bad time in their lives, but I have to make this right. I have to. One thing I learned being away, is that you can’t hold onto this stuff; you have to let it go, or it’ll eat you.
“You told me once I have to face what I’ve done. This is me facing that. Celia’s life wasn’t the only one affected by what happened that night. I owe it to them to at least apologize.”
Ethan studies me, then nods. “You’re right; you do owe them that. Just be prepared it might go really badly.”
“Oh, believe me, I’m preparing for the worst. There’s more . . .”
He raises his brows.
“My dad invited me over for dinner tonight . . .”
For a moment I can’t read his expression, then he murmurs, “Now that is a bad idea.”
He’s right, it probably is, but he’s my dad, and I haven’t seen him for a long time. At the very least, I want to hear why he gave up on me. I want to say what I have to say, and if I don’t see him again, then that’s fine. I will walk away and never come back. But I have to do this. I have to do all of this. No matter how hard it is.
Ethan purses his lips, then exhales and says, “You’re really diving into this headfirst. Next thing, you’ll be saying you’re seeing someone.”
I give him a guilty expression, and his eyes widen.
“How the hell have you met someone already?”
I laugh softly. “It’s a strange story, really. I got a flat and he was there to help me. We talked . . . I don’t know, it kind of went from there.”
“Do I know him?” Ethan asks, looking a little pissed off.
I get it, I do. He is protective. He got me through some of the worst times in my life. But he doesn’t need to protect me anymore. I can protect myself.
“I don’t know. His name is Tanner. He works at that garage in town . . . the big new one.”
Ethan’s eyes narrow. “He has a few friends that work with him, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I know of them. They’re trouble, Callie. Be careful. I’ve had a few encounters with some of them in lock-up. They’ve been involved in break and enters, drugs, and a few speeding fines with race cars. I’m not sure that’s the best kind of person for you to be hanging around with right now.”
I mean, I can’t say I’m surprised that Tanner and his group have had a few encounters with the law. They’re bad boys with a capital B. But I wouldn’t say they’re bad people. Not even close. They’re good in every way it counts. They may be trouble, but they’re not horrible—there is a big difference. I’m not a good person. I’ve done bad things, but does that mean I’d deliberately hurt anyone or do something horrible? Absolutely not.
At the very least, everyone deserves a chance. “Maybe that’s true, but they’ve been good to me. I’m not in the business of judging people without first knowing them.”
Ethan’s jaw gets tight, and he mutters, “That doesn’t mean you need to be stupid with your choices. Getting involved with a bad crowd could end you straight back up in that place. Is that what you want?”
He’s frustrating me now. I know he’s looking out for me, and I respect that, but sometimes I think Ethan thinks he has control over the things I do. He’s protective, which I adore about him, but he needs to understand that I’m not stupid, and I can take care of myself.
“I have learned a lot, and I use my brain. I’m not going to do or get involved in anything bad. If I see he’s doing something bad, I’ll remove myself from the situation. But I like Tanner, and I’m going to see where that goes.”
Ethan looks pissed, but he doesn’t say anything more. “I’ve got to get to work.”
He turns and walks out, slamming the door behind him. I exhale and my shoulders slump. I wish he could understand that I’m not trying to hurt or upset him. I just need to figure my own life out.
Starting with right now—going to my father’s house for the first time in over six years.
This could go well.
Or it could be very, very bad.
~*~*~*~
“IT’S GOOD TO SEE YOU, Callie.”
I stare at my father. The years have been kind to him. Of course, I knew they would. He looks just the same as he did the last time I saw him.
He told me he was moving away. Max said for a while he did, but he got a job and came back. Of course he didn’t tell me that, and he never came to see me. That hurt more than he’ll ever know. Because he owed it to me to be a supportive father. I never thought he’d let me down. When I was little, he was my everything.
Even the people you love the most can let you down when you least expect it.
So the best thing to do is not expect it.
“Dad,” I say, my voice low and hesitant.
“Come here. Let me look at you.” He steps out into the light of his front porch and takes my shoulders in his hands. I flinch. His eyes meet mine, and he knows that I don’t want him touching me. He knows, deep down, that I hate him so much I want to scream and tear his eyes out. Yet I love him so much that his betrayal kills me. It’s a horrible feeling to have. To love and hate someone so incredibly much.
Which side do you choose?
How do you even make a choice like that?
He takes me in, and in a low voice, he says, “You’ve grown up so much.”
Of course I have. When you go away for six years, you’re bound to change. I’m not a young girl anymore; I’m a young woman. A hardened young woman who has seen far too much.
“Yeah, that happens,” I mutter.
He lets me go and says, “How rude of me. Come inside. Deanne is dying to meet you.”
Deanne, the woman he left us for. Then he basically adopted her two daughters, Crystal and Shirley. The perfect daughters. Both of them left school with perfect grades and went to college. Both of them have incredible partners and are making their parents proud with every breath they take.
Then there’s me.
The daughter who killed someone.
The daughter who went to prison.
Yeah, that’s me. The sunshine of people’s lives.
As I walk into my father’s huge house, I look around, and the urge to shake my head is massive. He provided my mother with things too, of course. We had the best of everything. This, though? This goes above and beyond what we got. There are chandeliers hanging from the damned rooftops, for crying out loud. Who actually needs that crap?
The house is twice the size of the one I grew up in. Hell, those girls probably have bedrooms bigger than my house.
It’s insane.
“Deanne?” my father calls as we round a corner into the biggest country kitchen I’ve ever seen. There’s white wood, cupboards for miles, and bench space big enough you could dance on it and not knock anything off.
“In here!” Out comes the lady herself. Deanne.
I’ve seen pictures, of course. My father used to try and get me to meet her, but I wasn’t interested. Why the hell would I be? She’s a damned queen, and she took everything I had left.
Okay, slightly unfair, because he did it too, but still.
Long blond hair falls upon Deanne’s dainty shoulders. Her eyes are big, and round, and perfectly blue. She looks like a china doll. Her skin is so perfect and so wrinkle free it makes me wonder what kind of injections she’s into. Either that, or the woman has some pretty incredible genes. She’s wearing a sunflower-colored dress, with a blue checked apron wrapped around her tiny little waist. Can anyone say perfect house wife?
I can.
Perfect housewife.
“Oh, hello! Welcome! I’m Deanne!” she says, rushing over and extending her perfectly manicured hand. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
No, it’s not. We both know it’s not.
She doesn’t want me in her house. She’s putting on a show for my father, but I can see the way she’s studying me, taking me in, scrutinizing me. She’s not impressed with me. Oh, no. Not at all. In fact, I’m sure if she had her way, she wouldn’t have me in this house at all.
“You, too,” I say to her, taking her hand. I can see the way her eyes twitch just a little when my hand curls around hers.
“The girls will be here momentarily. I’m going to go and get freshened up. You can catch up with your father.”
I watch her go, and then turn to Dad. “Nice place.”
He looks around. “Yeah, it is. Sit down. Can I get you a drink?”
I nod, and he brings me back a soda. God forbid I should drink alcohol; maybe I’d do something stupid like steal a car and kill someone.
It’s safe to say my parents were shocked when they found out I was completely sober that night; they even asked if I had drugs in my system. They couldn’t process how or why I’d steal their car and go for a joy ride if I was completely sober.
“How have things been? Have you caught up with Max?”
“Yeah, I’ve seen him once. I’m not in a rush to see him again.”
My dad frowns. “Your brother was worried about you. I’m sure he’d love to see you again.”
“My brother abandoned me, just like everyone else in my family. I owe nobody a single thing.”
He exhales. “Look, I know I didn’t come and visit you like I should have, Callie. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean it to hurt you. Things out here, they were crazy, and I moved away. It wasn’t intentional.”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses, to be honest. You could have picked up a phone. Written a letter. There are a million things you could have done. You chose not to. Instead of blaming everything on how crazy things were out here, maybe try owning that.”
He goes to open his mouth, but the front door opens, and two incredibly beautiful women walk in. Ah, they’re here. The perfect children. Their eyes immediately go to me, and Crystal, the youngest of the two, scowls. Oh, she doesn’t like me. Well, the feeling is very mutual. Shirley gives me a small smile, but she still looks like she’d rather I was anywhere but here.
“Daddy!” Crystal cries, rushing over and hugging my father when he stands.
Daddy. He’s not her god damned daddy. She probably has a daddy somewhere who couldn’t deal with her stuck-up mother, so he ran off with another woman. Oh wait; that was my father. Ten bucks says their stories are scarily similar. I watch as my father hugs the two girls like they’re his own daughters, and when he pulls back, I see the pride in his face.
It hits me like a punch to the stomach.
An unfamiliar longing grabs at my heart, and I hate it. I despise it. Because it means it still hurts. It means I still care.
“Crystal, Shirley, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Callie.”
I nod at the two girls, who are both studying me. Taking me in as if I’m some sort of street scum. Damn them. Who do they think they are anyway?
“Is Max coming?” Crystal asks, not even acknowledging me.
“No, he couldn’t make it. Let’s sit down.”
We all go and sit at the table, and it’s the most awkward feeling of my life. I want to scream and claw my eyes out just to make a scene because it would probably be more comfortable than the one I’m sitting in right now.
“So, Callie, have you found a job since being let out of prison?” Crystal asks, her voice snippy.
Bitch.
Rude bitch.
“Yes, actually, I have. People are very forgiving of us criminals.”
She scowls.
My father gives her a look, as if to tell her to stop. That’s right, Daddy dearest. Keep your child in check.
There is that pain in my chest again. That feeling I don’t want to surface.
“How have you been enjoying living in the city?” Shirley asks. At least her question is kind.
“I like it. I’ve made a few friends, met a few guys. It has been good.”
“Have you told those guys you killed someone? I’m sure they wouldn’t want to know they’re putting it in an ex-criminal,” Crystal snaps.
“Crystal!” My father admonishes. “Don’t talk to her like that.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy, but I don’t like her. She killed someone. You can’t expect me to sit here and be okay with her being in my house.”
Her house. Jesus.
“Crystal,” Deanne says, walking out of the kitchen. “That’s enough.”
“Oh, like you can talk, Mother. I heard you talking earlier, and you don’t want a killer in your house, either. You said so yourself. Then, you proceeded to tell us to put away the valuables because she could be a thief, too. You never know what they’re taught in those prisons.”
My cheeks burn and shame stabs at my chest. I feel stupid, and hurt, and incredibly embarrassed.
Of course, that’s exactly what Crystal wanted. I can tell by the triumphant smile on her face. Tears burn the backs of my eyelids, tears I’ve managed to keep hidden for such a long time. But knowing that my father allowed this kind of talk, that he didn’t defend me—that hurts me. It hurts so badly.
“Crystal!” he growls. “That’s enough.”
I stand, tossing my napkin down. “You know what?” I say, staring at my father. “I don’t deserve this. I’m not going to defend myself to a bunch of stuck-up assholes who have never experienced anything outside of a hair salon. You want to judge me? Go ahead. I’ve heard far worse, but you, Dad, you can stay out of my life. You proved to me what I meant to you when you abandoned me. I don’t know what I thought I was going to get out of coming here tonight, but it certainly proved to me that I was right about you, about this . . . I deserve better. I deserve family. You’re not that.”
I pick up my phone and my purse. “I’ll see myself out.”
I turn, even when he calls my name, and I leave. My chest burns, my throat tightens, my nostrils ache, and tears push at my eyelids, threatening to escape. I walk out of the huge house and down the front path to my car parked on the street. I unlock it and go to get in when I see a piece of paper stuffed in the windshield wipers. I reach over with blurred vision and pick it up, turning it over.
My heart feels like a knife has been taken to it.
There’s a picture of Celia on the paper. A beautiful picture of her smiling. Then, scrawled in messy handwriting underneath it, it says, “She had a life. You took that from her. Killer.”
The tears burst forth and roll down my cheeks.