I hit the green button and put the phone to my ear. “Hey, Mom. How’s it going?”
There’s a slight pause, and I frown, wondering if the connection is bad. Every once in a while, you’ll hit a dead spot on campus.
“Hello, son.”
Thrown off by the deep male voice that bursts over the line, my footsteps falter before stuttering to a halt.
What the fuck?
I shake my head, clinging to the irrational hope that my brain is playing a trick on me.
“Hello?” he says again before asking, “you there?”
Instead of answering, I rasp, “Why do you have Mom’s phone?” A chill slithers down my spine before settling uncomfortably at the base. “Where the hell is she?” My voice rises as I turn panicky. “Put her on the line.”
“Calm the fuck down, all right? Your ma is fine.” He chuckles before taking his mouth away from the phone. “Say hi, babe. Your son is worried about you.”
My muscles coil tight as I wait for the sound of my mother’s voice. I swear to fucking God if he’s done something to her, I’ll be on the phone with his parole officer so fast, his damn head will spin.
“Hi, sweetie,” comes Mom’s soft voice from somewhere in the nearby vicinity.
Everything in me loosens. “Give her the phone,” I snap, wanting to talk privately with her and get to the bottom of what’s going on. Why would she be anywhere near him?
Disregarding the demand, he says mildly, “Good news. Your ma and I have decided to give it another whirl.” My belly crashes to the bottom of my toes. “Aren’t you excited?”
Is that a joke?
It’s the worst possible news. After my father was sent away, it took months, if not years, to evict him from my mother’s head. She had to practically be deprogrammed. And now he’s back. The last thing she needs is him fucking up her life again.
Goddamn it!
“Now that I’m out, we can be one big happy family.”
Like we were ever that. My father has proven time and time again that he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about us.
“I gotta go.” I don’t have time for this bullshit. I don’t want him in my life, and I sure as shit don’t want him anywhere near Mom. I’m not the same kid he left behind a decade ago who was easily intimidated. I’m a grown man. I wasn’t able to protect my mother from him before, but I sure as shit will do it now.
“Don’t you dare hang up!” His voice deepens, cracking like thunder over the line. Some of his nice guy façade falls away like I suspected it would. It only reconfirms my suspicions that he’s trying to run a game on me.
“Why? There’s nothing for us to talk about.”
“We have ten years to catch up on.”
“No, Scott, we don’t.”
“You always were a mouthy little bastard, weren’t you?” he chuckles, although it sounds like he’s holding on to his patience by a thread. I can almost imagine him tightening his hand before flexing it and cracking the knuckles. That sound always meant trouble.
“There’s no reason we can’t sit down and hash out our shit. You’re my son, we’re family. I want to see you. It’s like I’ve always told ya—you can pick your friends, and you can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your family.”
I almost snort.
Is that rationale really supposed to win me over?
“Wish I could.” Not. “But I’ve got a lot going on.”
As I’m about to stab the disconnect button, he says, “Well, I got your address. Maybe a surprise reunion will be more fun.”
That not so subtle threat has my blood running cold. I don’t want him anywhere near campus.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I plow my fingers through my hair and quickly decide what to do. There’s always the possibility that it’s an empty threat. Although...do I really want to take that chance? With my luck, the bastard will show up on my doorstep.
“When do you want to meet?” I gnash my teeth together so hard they feel as if they’re in imminent danger of shattering.
“Now works for me.”
No way in hell.
“Sorry, I can’t—”
“Look, I’ll make it easy on you. There’s a truck stop on the outskirts of town, right off highway eighteen and county ten. I’ll be there in an hour.”
Before I can open my mouth, the line goes dead. A cold sweat pops out across my brow at the thought of coming face-to-face with my father after all these years. As much as I don’t want to cancel my plans with Demi, there isn’t a choice in the matter. The thought of lying to her leaves a bad taste in my mouth, but there’s no way in hell I can tell her the truth.
Hey, remember when you asked about my parents? Well, guess what? Pops was released early from prison, where he was serving a twenty-year sentence. That’s right, I’ve got the blood of a murderer running through my veins.