Текст книги "Can't Let Go"
Автор книги: Michelle Lynn
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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 19 страниц)
MY STOMACH CHURNS, my fingers drum, and my knee bobs. All day, I’ve gone hot and cold on this conversation with my dad. I think he’ll understand. I hope he’ll see how I need to leave. After Chrissy fell asleep last night, I dissected my love-hate relationship with betting. Finally realizing I love the part of my dad’s praise and accolades, but hated most everything else. Except for the money, who would hate that? But, since I’ve never gotten in too deep, I’ve never truly lost like others.
That thirty grand my dad handed me a few nights ago sits in my safe with maybe a few other thousand, but it’s the biggest amount I’ve ever received. Ted and my mom pay my tuition, my room and board, and give me an allowance. They have no idea about the bets I make, and I’m positive they wouldn’t be happy about it. That’s why I’ve already decided the thirty g’s are Chrissy’s. For her to go back to school.
I just need to find a way to tell her and pray she’ll accept it. She’s so stubborn I could see her not accepting it from me.
The closer we come to my dad’s, the more deep breaths I’m taking. My heart races, but Chrissy reaches over and links my hand that’s currently tapping on my knee. Glancing over at her, she smiles and slowly my reflexive body movements calm down.
“It will be okay,” she reconfirms, and I pray she’s right, because I’m scared I’m going to lose my dad tonight. That he’ll no longer want me if I can’t win him money or help him out at the house when he needs me.
Pulling in the circle drive, we walk up to the door, and I walk in with Chrissy’s hand in mine. “Dad!” I yell, and the smell of his spaghetti sauce greets us.
“In here,” my dad calls out from the kitchen. Chrissy tugs my arm, and I peer down at her smiling, encouraging face. Bending down, I sneak a kiss and bring her my way.
My dad’s in the kitchen with a pot on the stove, and his reading glasses on while he measures some form of herbs. “Hey, Edge,” he says, never looking over. Chrissy releases a small huff upon hearing my nickname. It clearly disgusts her the same amount as me.
“Dad,” I repeat, and he glances from the corner of his eye and then turns all the way around. His eyes dart to our tangled hands and then up to our faces.
“Well … it’s nice to see you, Chrissy.” He slyly tries to raise his eyebrows my way, but it doesn’t work, because Chrissy giggles under her breath a little. “What brings you two here?” He drops the herbs into the sauce and mixes it around with a spoon.
We take a seat at the table. “I need to talk to you,” I say, my knee bouncing until Chrissy places her hand on me to quiet the nerves.
“Okay.” My dad takes off his reading glasses, placing them on the counter, and then sits down at the table.
“Dad, I can’t help anymore.” I spit it out, and Chrissy squeezes my hand in encouragement. This is why I needed her here, because I’d never have the balls otherwise.
“Chrissy, do you mind giving us a minute?” My dad stares her way, and she begins to stand up, but I grab her hand.
“She stays, Dad,” I say.
“Edge,” he warns with a cocked head and piercing eyes.
“She stays.” I remain firm, and Chrissy sits down again.
“Mr. Prescott, Dex told me, and you know you don’t have to worry.” She starts speaking and that’s the last thing I need right now unfortunately. Her to fight my battles with my dad.
“Oh, did he?” my dad comments, nodding to himself.
“I don’t enjoy it, Dad.” I stare over at Chrissy and back to my dad. “I just won’t put us in jeopardy anymore.”
My dad relaxes a little and leans back in his chair. Pointing between us, he says, “You two are together?”
I look at Chrissy, our eyes connect, and we smile at one another. Our love too strong to not be leaking out from our eyes. “Yeah,” I tell him.
He stands up and walks to the pot on the stove. Chrissy continues to dart her eyes between him and me. The silence of what he’s thinking or how he’ll react inducing anxiety. “Okay, Edge.” He never turns around, but continues stirring the pot. Then he gives his attention to Chrissy. “Can I steal him for just a moment, Chrissy?” She nods of course. “Would you watch the sauce so it doesn’t boil over?”
“Sure, Mr. Prescott.” She stands, and I kiss her forehead before following my dad downstairs to the basement.
At the bottom, he leads me over to the table, and I take a seat in the chair while he deals me some cards for blackjack. Who else can say any conversation with their father usually happens while playing a card game? He deals the cards, and, as I give him the hit-me motion, he asks the question I figured he would pick first. “You love her?”
Placing my hand out to stay, I answer, “Yeah. I do.”
He deals himself two more cards before standing. We flip, and I win. Re-shuffling, he deals them again. “You’re positive?”
“Yeah,” I answer, and this time he wins when I bust.
“That’s all I need to know. This life isn’t for everyone, and I know you’ve always been hot and cold with it. You’ll be getting your degree soon.” He puts the cards away and comes around clapping me on the back. Conversation over and he’s accepted it, the weight that’s been pounding in my stomach all day let’s up. “You have options I never did.”
When we ascend the stairs, Chrissy’s shutting the lid on the pot. When her gaze finds us, I give her a small nod, and she smiles, just as happy as me that it’s over and my dad has accepted the news. “The sauce smells amazing, Mr. Prescott,” she compliments him.
Going over, he puts his arm around her shoulders. “Take care of my boy.” She leans into his side, and he kisses the top of her head. “I always had a feeling about you two.”
“Thanks, Mr. Prescott.” She beams over to me, and I walk over to drag her away.
“She’s mine,” I joke, and my dad laughs.
“She always has been,” he murmurs and goes back to his simmering sauce. “You two going to stay for dinner?” he asks, and I glance to Chrissy for the answer.
“If you’ll have us,” she remarks, and the word us brings warmth to my body, that I have my dad and my girl.
AFTER THE USUAL amazing meal of Dex’s dad’s spaghetti sauce and pasta, Dex and I leave hand and hand. I’m still shocked that we’re a couple, something I had wished for but that I never expected to come true.
“So, we’ll see you later. Don’t be strangers you two.” Mr. Prescott embraces me and I’m reminded how he was more of a fatherly figure to me than my own too many times in my life.
“We won’t,” Dex tells him and shakes his dad’s hand after I’m released.
“Thank you for dinner,” I graciously say and he swipes his hand through the air.
“You’re welcome anytime.” He smiles but something catches his attention behind me and a sour look quickly replaces his content one. “What are you doing here?” That sweet, calmed male voice turns harsh and curt.
Dex and I flip our heads around at the same time before Dex shuffles me behind him, blocking me from his vision. The vision of the man who completely messed up my life. As angry as I feel, it saddens me witnessing him so disheveled—greasy hair, wrinkled clothes, bearded unkempt facial hair. It may be the worst I’ve ever encountered him.
“You need to leave.” Dex’s one hand is placed on my hip to keep me protected behind him.
“Chrissy,” my dad’s meekly voice pleads to me, but I’m unsure how to react. A part of me wants nothing more than to take him and fix him back up like I have my whole life. Try to make him better, get clean. But I remind myself, it will only be temporary.
“Don’t,” Dex warns him, backing us up further away from him.
“She’s my daughter,” my dad counters, but Dex shakes his head.
“Stay the fuck away from her. What you did? I swear—”
“Calm down, Dex.” Mr. Prescott steps forward, sandwiching my father between the two of us. “Zeke, what are you doing here, man?” My dad twists his head to Mr. Prescott’s voice.
Ignoring us, he gives Dex’s dad his sole attention. “I need your help, Theo.”
“I can’t help you. It’s time you do something for yourself.” He crosses his arms and widens his stance. Dex still won’t let me by him, but his arm has dropped from my hip.
“I’m ruined. No one will even give me a chance to win anything to pay back what I owe. Nico won’t stop coming after me—”
“You gave up your own damn daughter. What the hell is wrong with you?” Mr. Prescott yells and my dad hangs his head down low. I cringe at the words spoken out loud. My face reddens from embarrassment for myself.
“I know. It was a moment of weakness—” my dad tries to spit out, but Mr. Prescott grabs him by his shirt and yanks him so they are mere inches apart.
“I don’t give a fuck. She’s your God damn daughter for fuck’s sake. There’s no excuse for what you did.” Mr. Prescott releases his grip and my dad falls to the ground. I fight the urge to run to him and pick him up.
“I’m sorry. He offered it up and I agreed.” My dad turns to me with pleading eyes. Pleading for what I’m not sure. Help maybe, but one thing is for sure, I don’t see much of a plea for forgiveness in them.
I slide to the side of Dex but he holds his arm around the front of my body as though he’s my own gate to get through. “I need to do this,” I whisper and wait for his eyes to look down at mine. After a few seconds he nods, but with every step I make, he matches it.
“Dad,” I say, alerting his attention and he stands up to his feet. Wobbling to the side, I instinctively offer a hand and he takes it as always.
“Chrissy, listen to me. I’m sorry. If I had any other choice.” He continues his ridiculous excuse of why he would offer my body as payment of a debt.
I hold my hand up in the air. “Just stop, Dad. For once, just admit it. Admit you’re wrong. That what you did is inexcusable.” Dex’s arms cross against his body again and I’m desperate to feel the security of them again because it’s confirmed my dad doesn’t give a shit about me.
“It was inexcusable. I’m sorry.” His apology doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he makes no attempt at physical contact. “Where have you been anyway?” he asks and I’m reluctant to tell him. He’ll just want something from me, and as anger mixes with shame that I never saw how uncaring he was earlier, I’m glad Dex takes over so I can grab a hold of these feelings inside me.
“None of your business.” Dex steps forward again, easily situating himself into the protective stance.
“Edge,” my dad begs and Dex’s head automatically shakes side to side.
“How much total to clear you out of danger?” Mr. Prescott asks my dad, and he whips his head around.
“Shit, I don’t know, Theo.” His palm rubs across his face, dragging down to his jaw. “Twenty? Twenty-five?” He acts obtuse, although we all know he knows the number. He’s not some twenty-something newbie that just entered the games.
We all cock our heads and his eyes close, exasperated by our questions. “Twenty-eight,” he finally confesses.
“How could you, dad? Get it that high? Who allowed you?” I yell and Dex places his hand on my arm. My eyes dart to his and I take a deep breath.
“He cheated,” Dex mumbles and every puff of air deflates from me. Cheating is another realm completely. I’m surprised my dad’s still here after that. “Different people are looking for him,” Dex admits and I’m saddened that he kept that secret to himself. But I understand why he might have. Dex may have felt that I was finally free of my dad and didn’t want me to get sucked in. Which I’m afraid, by my heart pulling toward my dad’s situation, is going to happen.
“Oh, God.” I sigh, biting the side of my lip.
“Please, Chrissy. I need your help.” My dad steps forward, but Dex pulls me back.
Once he distances us from our dads, he places his hands on both of my shoulders. “I see you fighting yourself.” His eyes aren’t angry, but only filled with concern. In this moment, the warm loving feeling wraps around me. The safety of a new life with Dex—someone who would never hurt me the way my dad has. “I have some money, that I won. If you want to give it to him, it’s yours. But Chrissy, eventually you’ll have to walk away. You can’t save him.” Dex reasons with me, with the truth that my dad needs the will to change. I can’t do it for him.
“I know. It’s just, cheating? I mean you know what it means, Dex.” I leave it at that because we don’t need to inform the other of the harm my dad is probably in. Could he get out of it? Maybe. “I won’t take your money though.” I stand there and stare up into the dark sky with the few stars out for viewing tonight, as images of my dad’s swollen face or dead body lying in an alley flash across my mind. I can practically hear the morgue calling me to claim his body after whoever he cheated gets their revenge. This one decision could seal his fate and I’m not sure I have the strength to make it.
“If it makes you feel better this time, go ahead,” Dex wraps his arms around my body and I bury my head into his chest. Fighting the tears from tumbling down, I lean back and glance over to my dad one more time.
He sits on the steps with his head in his hands while Mr. Prescott’s finger points, lecturing him. “He’ll only do it again. You know as well as I do.” I grip Dex tighter, wanting the comfort of the one who does love me because my dad definitely does not. Pushing back from him slightly, I allow his heartfelt blue eyes to give me the courage and support to take this step for myself. “I have no choice,” I tell him and his lips turn at the corners a little because he agrees, but wishes it was different.
Placing his hands on either side of my face, he makes sure never to break contact. “I’ll always be here for you, no matter what you choose.”
My hands cover his and I take the deepest breath of my life. His unwavering, caring eyes bring an appreciation that I have such a wonderful man that won’t leave me, no matter what I choose. “Thank you.”
“You never have to thank me. You have me by your side forever.” He bends down and kisses me short and sweet.
“You two a couple now?” my dad yells over to us and our faces tear apart, giving him our attention.
“They are.” Mr. Prescott widens his stance in front of my dad while crossing his arms.
“About damn time,” he says, springing up from his seated position, flashing a I just won the lottery grin. “Edge, can I talk to you?” He hooks his finger and motions for Dex to come to him. Dex’s eyes peer down to me, unsure, and an annoyed huff leaves my lips.
Figuring out my dad’s plan of attack, I take the five steps over the cement driveway to face my dad once and for all. “So, you’re happy about me and Dex?” I ask, displaying a concerned daughter act.
“Why would I not? I’ve thought for years you two should be together.” My dad leisurely places his hands in his pockets and raises his shoulders up and down.
“What did you need with Dex, then?” I ask, and Dex’s heavy steps can be heard behind me before his hand reaches my hip, wrapping me in the comfort of his presence.
“I thought since he’s practically family, we could work something out.” He turns to Dex, whose hand tightens around me. “I promise I’ll make good.” He dishes out those empty filled guarantees and the urge to slap him twitches in my hand.
My fists tighten next to my thighs and heat rushes up to my face. “Absolutely NOT!” I scream. Lowering my voice after realizing the quiet streets of Mr. Prescott’s neighborhood, I continue, “Will you ever change?” On the brink of tears from his careless attitude toward what he’s done makes me frustrated beyond belief. He’ll never truly love me and consistently put me in bad positions, leaving me to never have a life of my own.
“Chrissy, listen to me. This is perfect. Edge can help me with some sure things and then I’ll be out—” He holds his hands up in the air in defense.
“Save it. I’m done. I love you, Dad, but I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t allow your life to dictate mine.” Taking Dex’s hand in mine, I tighten my hold and allow his blue eyes to ease me. “My future is a good one now and I’m taking my life in my own hands.” Dex’s lips turn up at my confession. Then I whip my head to my dad’s direction again. “Unfortunately, if you can’t clean up your act, there’s no room for you. So, good luck, Dad. I hope you can figure something out.” Leaning into Dex’s muscled chest, I whisper, “Take me home, please.”
Dex remains silent and walks me to his truck. My dad remains planted on the driveway, stunned to discover I won’t help him and neither will Dex. My body begins to slowly crumble as though I chipped off an edge of a cake where the frosting was holding it all together. Doubting my decision every mile, it took all of my self-control not to ask Dex to turn around. Take him up on that offer of the money and save my dad one last time. By the time we get home, tears threaten in my eyes with nightmare thoughts of what will happen to my dad.
The house is dark and empty of our roommates when the truck pulls in the driveway. I patiently wait for Dex to open my passenger door for me and when he sees my face, he yanks me into his body. The strong arms secure me that I indeed did make the right decision. My arms wrapped around his neck, he carries me into the house bride style. He doesn’t flick a light on, leaving the darkness to consume us. When we reach his bedroom, he takes off my clothes and then his own before laying us down in his bed. “I promise to always take care of you, Chrissy.” I tug on his hands and bring them up to my chest.
“I promise the same. Thank you,” I manage to tell him before tears overflow and the dam I’ve built tumbles.
Dex holds me tight into him, whispering his love for me and the future he guarantees we have. It comforts and secures me, but the heartbreak of losing my dad can’t be shaken just yet. The whole night, I fall in and out of sleep, but Dex’s embrace never falters. By morning, I’m in a melancholy mood, but I muster a smile for Dex.
“Feeling any better?” he asks, while his fingers outline figure eights on my bare stomach.
“A little,” I lie.
“Probably with time.” His moist lips hit my neck and a zing rapidly shoots through my body.
“Can I ask you a question?” He picks up his head and his hand stops moving.
“Anything.”
“The money you were talking about last night with my dad,” I mention, not really asking a full question.
“You want it? Did you change your mind?” His face genuine, no alarm in his actions.
“No. You got it from gambling, right?” I ask and his eyes slowly close and his chest rises and falls deeply.
“Yeah,” he confirms, guilt still residing in his demeanor. “I want to talk to you about it.”
I scoot up on the bed, my back arches from the cold iron headboard and then relaxes back down. “What about?”
“I want you to have it for school.” He grabs both of my hands and huddles them together as though we’re in the middle of a snowstorm.
“No, Dex. It’s your money. I don’t want it.” My head quickly shaking back and forth.
“Come on, Chris—”
“End of discussion, Dex.” I release my hands and his jaw drops. I swing my legs over the bed, but his muscled arms wrap around my stomach.
“Okay … okay. You win,” he says in my ear, “now come back down and lay with me for a bit.”
I allowed Dex to coax me back into the warmth of the bed, nuzzling up to my own personal heater. “One day though, Chrissy … you’ll be enrolling at Western.”
As much as I want my dream of becoming a college student one day to reach true, I hate owing anyone to obtain it.
IT’S BEEN A month and the thirty thousand has been burning a damn hole in my safe. I need something unique to make sure she doesn’t decline it or can’t refuse. Everyday I give her some explanation why she should use it, that I’ll never do anything with the money. Her resolve is wearing, I can tell. Sadie and Brady went up to Niagara Falls to celebrate their anniversary, and I asked Rob to disappear for tonight, so it’s just me and Chrissy.
I drop Chrissy at work as usual and I walk down to Lily’s Florist. The minute I enter, the fragrant smell overwhelms my senses, and I have no idea what people love about them. A middle-aged woman peers up and smiles before placing a pen down and emerging from behind the counter. “Hello. How can I help you?” she asks, and I spot this pink flower arrangement that Chrissy described to me last night. She’s been coming here twice a week, putting them together on her lunch hour.
“Hi, Lily?” I question, and she tilts her, wondering if she should know me.
“My name is Dex Prescott. I’m Chrissy Dawson’s boyfriend.” I introduce myself, and she smiles wider.
“Oh,” she says, “what a lucky guy you are.” She smirks.
“That I am,” I agree.
“So, what brings you in?”
“I need to buy a few arrangements. Her arrangements.”
“You don’t have to buy them. I offer them to Chrissy each time, but she declines.” I know why she declines because Sadie filled me in on the fact that Chrissy has never received even one flower from someone, let alone a bouquet.
“Yeah, I know. But I insist on paying.” I dig my hand in my pocket, but she places her hand on my arm.
“No, if they’re for her, you take them,” she insists.
Relenting, I nod my head. “Okay then, I need to buy a few single ones as well.”
“That we can do,” she tells me and walks over to the glass case that holds white buckets filled with roses.
A few minutes later, I have Chrissy’s last two bouquets and an array of roses.
