“Good, call me back once you’ve looked at it.”
The dial tone hums in my ear.
“What’s wrong?” Ruthie slurs.
“Not sure yet.” I pull up my email and open the link. “Holy shit.” A newspaper article fills the small screen. Following in my footsteps by Gunner Gruppe. Her old man wrote about Ruthie and her involvement with us. Son of a bitch!
I’ve done a lot of things in my life. Some I’m not too proud of. I put my career and wants in front of my family. I never thought about how it affected them until I learned my daughter is following in my footsteps.
I continue to scan the document. He never mentions names, but the information he gave is enough to figure things out. Shit. All Ruthie wanted was to separate herself from this bastard. This could stir shit up and bring out people trying to get the latest scoop. I want to slit his throat and watch him bleed out. For the second time, he’s turning her life upside down. She can’t afford the stress. Blue took me aside and explained how bad worry was for a pregnant woman in her first trimester.
The thought of her losing the child I hadn’t been sure I wanted, scared me. Things have taken an unexpected change. What I thought would be my downfall is bringing the dead parts of me to life. “Ruthie, you’re going to want to see this,” I say.
She rolls onto her side, facing me and props her head up with her arm. “Tell me.”
“Your father decided to write another article.”
“Jesus, what about?”
“You and your involvement with the KOC.”
The blood leaves her face and she covers her belly with her hand. “Did he literally say that?”
“No, he hinted, but it wouldn’t take a genius to put two and two together.”
“Stone’s pissed isn’t he?”
“Yeah, I need to call him back and see what he wants to do with this.”
“God, why is he doing this?”
“Maybe he thinks he’s helping you.”
“No, if he really gave a shit about that, he would’ve come around a long time ago and tried to make shit right. This is about resurrecting his dead ass career. I don’t care what he told Mom.”
“You think they’re in it together?” I ask.
“Yes. I need to find out what their actual agreement was.”
“I don’t want you going to see your mother and getting worked up.”
“I’m already worked up. God. I thought I was out and living on my own terms, but this shit is still following me around.” She spears her fingers through her wild hair.
“Hey, you know I’m going to take care of this,” I say rubbing her thigh.
“No. You shouldn’t have to. This is my mess to clean up.”
“You’re my Old Lady that means this shit is mine to handle. You want to talk to your mother, fine, as long as you go with someone else. Maybe your sister?”
“I don’t know if I can trust her. Before she left, she was talking about Dad. God, do you think she knew?”
I remain quiet. I have no clue, but if she did, she’s going to be on a need to know basis. “You know we need to know who we can and can’t trust, right?”
“Yeah. I’ll find out, okay?” Her voice wavers.
“After work?”
“Think I’m going to call in sick today. I can’t operate with this weighing on my mind. If this goes public and people find out who I am—it’s going to get really messy and public.”