As much as I now believed every word Jeremy had spoken to be true, I was a selfish bastard and wanted Evie with me.
I couldn’t deny it even if I tried.
Chapter Five
Evie
Despair swirled around me, and the four walls of the room closed in on me as my father admitted his latest fuck up to me. As I stood in his sorry excuse for a home, I squeezed my eyes shut and wished we could go back nineteen years and change the course of history. Change the fact he lived alone with threadbare carpets, worn couches with holes in them, clothes that hung off him because he didn’t care about eating, a career he’d let go of, and a fucking gambling addiction that ruined any chance of changing and improving his life.
“Fuck, Dad... how did this happen? You were doing so much better.” My eyes pleaded with him. I needed something, anything to give me hope this could be fixed. My gut knew, though. Knew this was what always happened, this was just the never-ending cycle of addiction that, once it had you in its grips, would never let you go. Not if you really didn’t want it to.
He hung his head.
Shame bathed his face.
Defeat clothed his body.
The man who’d raised me had vanished and in his place stood this father who I struggled to understand and love. I would always love him deep down, but it was more a reflex emotion. These days, love didn’t come easily...I had to work to love him.
He looked back up at me, his face more ravaged than I’d ever seen. When he finally spoke, he almost gutted me. “Baby, I need help.”
My father had never asked for help.
Never.
Not when my sister had died, not when my mother had cheated on him, not when he’d lost his job and had to take shitty casual jobs to pay his bills, and never for his gambling addiction.
His words pierced my heart and tears pricked my eyes.
Love knocked on my soul and I knew in that moment, I would do anything to help my father.
“How much do you owe?”
His eyes shut and he drew a long breath. Opening them again, he said, “Ten grand.”
My heart dropped into my stomach.
Ten grand.
Where the hell were we gonna come up with that kind of money?
My legs nearly buckled under me so I sat on the couch behind me, rested my elbows on my knees and dropped my head into my hands. This shit was fucked and although my brain scrambled to find a way out for him, it was coming up empty.
Silence filled the room until, eventually, I lifted my head to ask him, “How long have you got to pay it?”
“One week,” he whispered just loud enough for me to hear.
Holy shit.
My heart almost beat out of my chest and fear sliced through me. There was no way we could come up with that kind of money in a week. But I wasn’t the type of woman to stare defeat in the face and throw in the towel without a fight.
I got my shit together and stood. “Leave it with me, Dad. I’ll talk to some people.”
Hope flitted across his face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. But this only happens if you’re going to admit you have a problem and get some help for it.” I stared hard at him, waiting.
He hesitated for a moment and I stilled. Surely he wouldn’t deny his problem any longer? But then again, my father was a stubborn and proud man, and he’d lived in denial for a long time now.