“Because I did abandon him, Cleo.”
My lips shut. He’d said it before but…
I just didn’t believe it.
It wasn’t possible that this man that I called father could do such a thing.
It just wasn’t.
I knew his character, knew him.
In my silence, Mom came over, putting her hands on his shoulders. He touched one, then stared at me. “I do care about him, but I did abandon him. That’s a fact that remains unchanged.”
“Well, maybe if he just sees that you do care,” I said. “Please. He doesn’t under… Can you just tell him what he needs? He thinks you’re not claiming him. That you don’t care.”
He squeezed my mom’s hand, his swallow hard. “If I tell him what he needs to hear from me, that’s the one thing that could make things so much worse. Worse than they already are.”
How was that possible? “Worse?”
He nodded. “There’s only one good thing I’ve ever given that boy by staying away. One thing and I refuse to take that from him. I would if I gave him what he needed. This way is just easier. Easier for him. I can’t hurt him anymore. I just can’t.”
But he was hurting him. He was killing him, and this was killing him too, clearly.
“Dad—”
His hands lifted, as if he’d washed his hands. He left the room, and Mom followed after him. I didn’t get it, questioning everything I knew about him, my mom, and this family in that moment. We didn’t do things like this, hurt people, and definitely not on purpose.
My lashes flickering away, I headed in another direction. I was going to my car because I wasn’t doing that, what my adoptive father just did. I was going after Jaxen.
Because that’s what he needed.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jax
The weed calmed my nerves but did nothing for my anger.
I couldn’t even fucking drive anymore.
I ended up pulling off the highway and onto the beach, afraid I’d completely crash my shit and end up in a ditch somewhere. I couldn’t see straight, and it was by the grace of God, I didn’t have any alcohol on me. I could easily down a forty, not a fuck given.
The only thing I did have was a joint so I lit up, pausing to roar into the air until I calmed down enough to actually light it. I didn’t know how I thought that talk with my sperm donor was going to go today, but it ended in ways I’d only suspected. He hadn’t wanted to talk, only spew bullshit. I asked him one thing, one fucking goddamn thing.
And he couldn’t even answer it.
I wanted to know why he’d done what he had and why he’d left our family like a goddamn coward after it. I wanted to know why he’d ripped us apart, why he’d been so selfish, and not just once but both times. He’d cheated on my mom, the most fucked up thing, then ran like a coward after. I wanted to know if it’d been worth it.
I wanted to know the why.
He’d stumbled all over himself and actually tried to apologize for his mistakes. He’d tried to apologize to me like that was a Band-Aid and would make this all go away. He wanted to give me fucked up apologies instead of telling the truth. That he was a shit person who’d left his son. That he hadn’t cared, and ironically enough, that’s what he’d done by saying everything he couldn’t say. He showed me that in spades. He hadn’t wanted our family.
He hadn’t wanted me.
I’d fucking lost it at his cowardice, ashamed that this man’s blood ran through my veins. I’d given him all I had after that, called him every goddamn word in the book. I’d only come to his stupid fucking birthday because I’d wanted to talk to him.
I had wanted to try.
A lot of good it did me, my fist bruised from punching my car. I shook it off and drew off my joint again, blowing smoke into the air. Waves crashed and fell ahead of me, my headlights staining the beach. Between the joint and my car, that’s all the light I had, all I needed. I didn’t want the noise.