Reaper's Fire - Joanna Wylde Page 0,52

said, his face full of pity. Goddamn it, I didn’t want his fucking pity. I wanted his—

Um. No. We wouldn’t be going there.

“I have medical power of attorney,” I said. “I mean, as a backup. I got one for each of them when they did their wills a few years back. I’ve always known I’d have to force him if he ever needed help—that’s the kind of guy he is—but I guess I just kept chickening out.”

“Hey,” Cooper said. “It is what it is, all right? He took care of you for years, now you take care of him. That’s how it works. It’s not always easy, but you can do it. You need to start by making a doctor’s appointment. Probably shouldn’t be leaving him alone anymore, either.”

“Fuck,” I said. “Fucking fuck fuck! And now I’m headed to Seattle. At least Randi’s coming with us. Maybe it’s for the best—our family doctor here is older than Dad. I think the only reason he still has an office is there’s no one to replace him. Guess I’ll start making some phone calls.”

“Hey,” he said. “Come here.”

Cooper opened his arms, and I considered for a minute. I knew exactly what I should do—stay away from him and his stabby girlfriend and whatever other baggage he might still have hidden in his illegally tenanted apartment. But I was tired. Really tired. Instead I found myself sort of leaning forward and collapsing against him. That’s when I noticed my cheeks were wet—I’d started crying without even realizing it.

Then Cooper pulled me into his lap and the tears broke free.

I cried for my dad and my mom and my baby and the fact that things were never, ever going to be the way they should’ve been. I cried because a crazy lady had threatened me with a knife and because the whole damned town thought I was a whore. Finally, I cried because the first guy I’d liked in ages was probably a criminal—definitely an asshole—except at the moment he was being really, really sweet. There was something so damned unfair about the whole situation.

After what felt like forever, the tears dried up, and I found myself leaning against his shoulder, wondering how I was going to get everything taken care of and still keep my business up and running and—no. I’d had one breakdown already, that was enough. Just because it was all too much for one person to handle didn’t change a damned thing, so I’d find a way.

I always did, because Garretts are tough.

Dad taught me that, back when he’d been the one taking care of me. Now it was my turn, just like Cooper said. He ran his fingers through my hair gently, and I settled in, feeling better. Nothing like a good cry, I guess.

“Does this mean we can have a truce?” he asked, chest rumbling against my cheek.

“Sure,” I said, because once your dad points a shotgun at a guy, it gets harder to justify a grudge.

“Just tell me this—are you really going to Seattle because you need to use your kitchen equipment, or are you running scared from something? Because I can protect you, babe. I promise.”

Talia’s face popped into my head. Mostly that weird expression she’d worn when she poked her big knife at me. She’d meant every word she’d said, that much I believed.

Cooper was her man.

It didn’t matter how sweet he was being right now, I realized, because he had divided loyalties—at the end of the day, a man’s gonna side with the woman sucking his dick. This is reality.

“I need the equipment,” I said, reminding myself that it wasn’t a lie. I really did, seeing as his bitch of a girlfriend ruined a week’s worth of work in one tantrum. “Not only that, I need to talk to Brandon and find some kind of specialist to check out my dad.”

Cooper stiffened.

“Brandon?” he asked slowly. “You mean, you need to talk to him about finalizing the divorce.”

“Tinker, I’m out of shampoo,” my dad said from behind us, and I pushed off Cooper’s lap abruptly, feeling weirdly guilty. “Other than that, I’m all ready to go. Hey, Cooper. Good to see you.”

Wow. He had no memory of threatening Cooper.

None.

Damn.

“We were just going over some stuff for the building before you leave on your trip,” Cooper said. Dad smirked.

“I’m old, not stupid,” he replied, laughing. A knife twisted in my gut, because Dad was the strong one. He took care of things, and whenever something was

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