it. I didn’t know how to feel about any of it because there are not good memories between you and me. Not in that house. Not when Mom died. Not when you fought with Chan so much. But I think, now after having some time to process because I know I snapped a little, but you killed the guy so easily in front of me. And you did it for me, but you also did it because he touched your daughter. And you were kind in that moment to me, gentle even, and it was like that one thing wiped out all the bad and I didn’t know how to think about any of it. But, Dad, you left me alone so much of the time.” I closed my eyes, taking a moment for myself.
The years. The memories. Mom laughing. Channing yelling.
The door being slammed shut.
The quiet after.
Always the quiet after.
“When you went away, a part of me thought you just wanted a way to get away from me.”
“Bren, honey.” His voice didn’t sound familiar to me, not anymore. That was a stranger, but he sounded regretful. He sounded kind.
“I thought that I didn’t deserve a family, and that’s why Channing left, why Mom died, and why you went to prison. Then I had the guys, but it took a long time before I let them in. But, Dad. They’re in. I’ve let them. I’ve let Channing back, and I’ve slowly started to believe that I am worthy to have people love me.”
“Sweetheart.” A chair was pulled out, scraping over the patio floor. He reached for me, but paused, remembering the last time I was touched. His eyes closed. He was struggling. A battle of emotions played out over his face before those eyes opened once more, and I saw the same haunting there that I’d felt for so many years. “I’d like to hold your hand. Can I do that, Bren?”
I stared back. Steadily. Then I shook my head. “No, but it means a lot that you asked, and it means more that you want to.”
His head hung down, and he nodded before pulling his hand back. It fell to his lap, and he stared at me across the table. “I wasn’t a good enough father to you, and I killed that man because I thought, ‘Finally, there was something right I could do for my girl.’ I never knew you thought any of that, or felt that way. I’m so sorry, Bren. I’m truly so sorry. I’m a… a broken man and there are no excuses I got for you. Just, I don’t know.” He glanced to Maxwell before grimacing. “They need to know you won’t say anything.”
I glanced at the man, deciding before turning back to my dad. “I think that’s a given. I never told anyone that you killed that guy to finish what I started until last year. Kept that to myself, and I’m not stupid.” I looked and spoke straight to Raith now. “I don’t know what I can do to reassure you, your men, but I won’t say anything. I don’t want to battle with you guys. I do want to be a bounty hunter. It makes sense to me. I grew up from violence and it’s ingrained in me. I need it, but I can channel it so it’s good that way. I won’t hunt any of your men. I’ll excuse myself from the team every time, but other than that, I don’t know what I can do or give you to make you feel safe with me.”
“There’s nothing you can do now, but there could be in the future.”
I waited, my heart pounding.
Without showing any emotion, he said, “You could name your firstborn child after me.”
Then, nothing.
I sat there.
He sat there.
I didn’t look at Derrick.
“You’re shitting me?’
“Bren!”
A wide smile broke over Maxwell’s face and his shoulders shook in laughter. “Yeah. I’m fucking with you.” He stood, his chair scraping over the patio. At his movement, the other men were all on high alert and began to come toward us. Maxwell motioned to them, saying to me, “I know you ain’t going to say shit because if you did,” his tone turned dangerous, “you know we’d come back and we’d kill that boyfriend of yours.”
I felt all eyes on me, weighing my reaction.
I showed them my teeth. “My dad touched my arm and I stabbed him. Did it without even thinking. It was instinct. What do you think I’ll do if you