“Yes, I clean,” I answer, and I know he’s never cleaned anything a day in his life.
Nothing about him has changed, except I don’t see my mother, but she’s never far from his side. My father enjoyed my mother’s obsessiveness over him, but he also enjoyed other women equally, something that sent my mother in a rage. She never took the anger out on him, but I wasn’t so lucky. But he only cared about himself and not what happened to me. It’s probably why he enjoyed that she was so obsessed with him. Together they were toxic.
“Is there something you want?” I ask.
“I want to know why Marco Taylor and Jason Fisher are snooping around in my life.” He raises an eyebrow at me. He always does that when I’m doing something that annoys him.
“That would be me.” Jason’s voice booms through the office and I turn to see him standing in the doorway that goes to the stairs. He clears the distance between us and he moves to stand between my father and me. I have to move a little to see around Jason’s massive form and my father takes a step back.
“Do you do that thorough of a background check? Even checking the people who clean your building?” His face scrunches and he still hasn’t asked me anything else.
I now have an idea of what Jason spent last night doing when he wasn’t with me. I don’t have anything to hide, I just don’t care to talk about it. There’s nothing to really be said because all I did was go to school and stay out of the way.
“You own this building?” I ask.
“As of last night,” my father answers for Jason. “His new company bought it.”
“The people you’re asking about is your daughter,” Jason growls and his voice is low and deadly.
“Yes, my daughter.” My father annunciates the word and I can see Jason’s back tense.
My father takes a step back.
“I went looking into your life because my girl here is terrified of blood. I want to know why.” He takes a step closer to my father.
“Because she’s a silly girl, that—”
Jason lunges forward and has him by the throat before he can finish his words.
“I’d knock your teeth out, but like I said, my girl doesn’t like blood.” He slams my father against the wall, making him look like a rag doll. I shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as I am. I don’t want Jason going to jail.
I walk over and gently place my hand on his arm. “He’s not worth it. Him or my mother. Trust me on that.”
He shakes his head and I know he can’t understand their actions. I’ve been there and at times it’s still hard for me to understand how someone could treat their child like that. Some people just aren’t good people. You have to learn to stay the hell away from them and not let their crap get on you.
“You want them gone?” he asks.
“It’s why I left. I was leaving them behind,” I admit.
The one advantage to my parents being so cold to me was I didn’t harbor feelings for them. I felt a loss, not knowing what others had and what it felt like to have a family. A part of me even thought maybe I was like them because I so easily left them behind. Then there’s Jason who lights up my whole world and he made me realize I’m nothing like them.
Jason takes a few more steps before he pushes the elevator button. The doors slide open and he tosses my father inside.
“Get out of our city,” he tells him before the door close.
I stand there shocked as my father rubs his neck where Jason held him and nods his head. As I watch the doors close, I realize this is the last time I’ll ever see him, and I’m grateful.
“He didn’t fight you,” I say in wonder.
“That’s because I dug into his life, which isn’t as shiny and nice as he likes people to think,” Jason answers.
I honestly don’t want to know what that means. I was done with them when I walked out over a year ago.
“I’ve always had a thing about blood,” I admit, to change the subject. I think Jason got the idea it was over something that happened to me. Maybe it was, but I remember falling down and skinning my elbows. I went running to my mother for help and I had blood everywhere. She lost it because I’d ruined the dress she’d just put on for a night out. She screamed and went on and on about her dress. I stood there taking it with blood dripping down my arms. I knew in that moment, even at seven, my mother was never someone I could count on and I was in this alone.