Or Demi.
My mouth dries.
Especially Demi.
It takes another ten minutes before I work up the courage to leave the safety of my vehicle. As I stalk toward the rundown restaurant and whatever-the-hell-goes-on-here, it’s like I’m walking toward certain death. I pull open the door and step inside. Maybe I’m a mess of nerves, but I’ll be damned if I show him anything but strength. My gaze scans the faded red vinyl booths that have seen better days—more like better decades—until it lands on a man buried in the far corner. A waitress who looks as worn as her surroundings sets a cup of coffee in front of him. I blow out a steady puff and force myself to eat up the distance that separates us. I’m halfway across the room when he senses my presence and glances up, his light blue eyes landing on me.
They flare slightly with surprise before the emotion is quickly masked. The corners of his lips twitch with a forced smile as he rises to his feet. “It’s good to see you, son.”
The endearment rings false and grates against my nerves.
“Don’t call me that,” I snap, unable to rein in my irritation.
There is no love loss between us. When I was a kid, he couldn’t be bothered to treat me with an ounce of kindness. I was nothing more than a nuisance. His lips would twist with disgust, and he’d snap at me to stop hiding behind my mother’s skirt and act like a man, not a little pussy. That’s probably the best memory I have of him. Actually, watching him get hauled away by the police is my fondest recollection.
It’s only when I’m standing a few feet away that I realize he has to tilt his chin to hold my steady gaze. As a child, my father loomed over me, always seeming larger than life. A powerhouse of physical force and brute strength he used to strongarm Mom into giving him what he wanted.
That’s not the case anymore.
I straighten to my full height and lower my shoulders, hoping to intimidate him the same way he used to do to us. Instead, he does the unexpected and opens his arms as if this is a happy reunion, and I wasn’t threatened into making an appearance. I recoil at the thought of touching him and drop into the booth instead.
He stands there for a moment. Annoyance flickers in his eyes before he slides in across from me. “What? No hug for the old man?”
I sit back and fold my arms across my chest. “My guess is that you didn’t come here for hugs.”
His lips twist. The slight semblance of a smile doesn’t reach the coolness of his eyes. Instead of answering, he says, “Aw, come on. It doesn’t have to be like this. We’re family.” There’s a pause as if he’s assessing the effect of his words. “Tell me what you’ve been up to.”
I lived with him until I was eleven years old, and not once could the guy be bothered to ask how my day at school went. If there wasn’t a way for me to be useful, it was like I didn’t exist. And now he wants to be filled in with all the details?
I don’t think so. He can get bent for all I care.
“Can we drop the façade?” Rather pointedly, I glance at my watch. “I don’t have a lot of time.”
The look in his eyes sharpens, turning just this side of feral. I tense, immediately recognizing the reaction. It brings me straight back to my childhood and makes me send up a little prayer of gratitude he was sent away before he could inflict any real damage. Who would I be if he hadn’t pulled the trigger? Would he have sucked me into his orbit? Gotten me involved with his petty con games? There are nights when I lay awake and try to imagine an alternate future. Thank fuck that was never my reality. If it had been, it’s doubtful I’d be where I am today.
The waitress stops by our table. On closer inspection, I realize she’s not as old as I pegged her to be from a distance. It’s like this place has sucked the youth right out of her.
“What can I get for you, hun?”
I hold up a hand. “Nothing. I won’t be staying long.”
She raises a brow in surprise before her gaze slides to my father. “Need a refill, sugar?” When her lips pull back, I notice that she’s missing a tooth.
My father shakes his head and flashes her a tobacco-stained smile. “Nah, I’m good.”
“Just holler if you need anything,” she calls over her shoulder, already moving on to another table.
“What did you want to talk about?” I’m done beating around the bush. “I already told you that I didn’t have a lot of time.”