Burnout - Coralee June Page 0,77
as fuck, and I was going to comment on their shady appearance, when I noticed Dad’s face completely drained of blood. Something about these guys had him scared as hell.
“Hey kid, you ready to go? I just remembered I have something to do,” he choked out while looking down at his plate, gripping his fork so hard that I thought he would bend the metal.
“What’s going on?” I whisper-hissed while checking out those guys by the door.
“Don’t look at them, Bee. Keep your eyes on me,” Dad instructed, and my eyes zeroed in on the purplish bruise on his face, and my mind made the connection.
“Did those guys do this to you, Dad?” I asked as he filtered through his tattered wallet and pulled out some cash. Dropping it on the table, he reached over and grabbed my wrist. We were fast walking out a side exit within seconds.
“Dad, talk to me,” I whispered as the door shut. He dragged me to his beat-up Dodge and shoved me in the passenger seat, looking around the parking lot as his fingers trembled. I always thought my father was strong and immovable. Like a mountain. Like stone.
But now, seeing him struggle to stop the tremors in his body long enough to slip his keys into the ignition, I realized that my father was very much afraid of whoever those men were. It wasn’t until we were pulling out of the parking lot that I glanced at the window to the restaurant again. There, standing on the other side of the glass, the three men stared with their arms crossed over their chest, watching our car disappear down the road.
“What was that, Dad?” I asked. I tried to keep my voice calm, though I was freaking out.
“You have to pretend like you never saw them, Blakely,” Dad urged. He kept checking the rearview mirror as if worried they were following us. “I thought they left town, but they didn’t. Those men are very dangerous, Bee. This isn’t a joke.”
“Dad. Tell me who they are,” I pleaded. Dad seemed to gnaw on my plea. His eyes were shifty, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
“On the inside, I did things to survive. It’s all about who you know in there, Bee. I pledged myself to a gang, and now I can’t leave.”
“Shit, Dad,” I huffed while slamming my head against the headrest and squeezing my eyes shut.
“I don’t want that life. That’s not me. I wanted a fresh start for us, but it appears like once again, I’m going to fuck it all up.”
“Dad, you have to leave town. You need to get out of here,” I rushed out while twisting to stare at him. “Wait until shit calms down. Can you call your parole officer?” I asked. I was frantically searching for a solution. I couldn’t leave my dad; we’d just finally found each other again. This was so fucked up. It felt like someone was standing on my chest, taking away my air.
“She doesn’t give a shit about me,” Dad spat. His face grew an angry shade of red. “I tell her I’m involved in gang activity, and she’ll find a way to lock me up again.”
“Maybe I should tell Lance? He’ll know what to—”
“NO! Absolutely not. You’re going to go home, and if you see those men, you’re going to steer clear, do you understand me? Don’t call me. Don’t seek me out. The only way I’ll be able to keep you safe is if they don’t know who you are. It might already be too late.” He seemed so certain, but I wasn’t convinced. There had to be another way.
Dad turned on the street leading to Lance’s apartment. “Dad, this is so—”
“I’m sorry, kid. I’m so fucking sorry. I tried, I really did. But right now, your safety is more important to me, okay?”
Tears started streaming down my face. “This isn’t right.”
“Guess you make me a better person, huh? I love you enough to leave.” The conversation with Dad from before felt so far away now. I sobbed harder as he put the car in park.
I reached over the center console to give him a hard hug. I breathed in the smell of his cheap cologne, mixed in with motor oil and sweat. “You have to come back, okay?” I choked out.
“I will, Bee. I will.”
When I pulled away, we stared at one another for another moment, then I let out a shaky breath and exited the car, leaving behind the one