The Enemy - Kelsey Clayton Page 0,65
behind my back so she doesn't see the money, I give her my best boyish grin. “I was just leaving. The waves are supposed to be intense today.”
She nods politely. “Well, you have a good day.”
I thank her and watch as she goes back to work. Mel may work for Ken, but she's not as bad as I thought. As I grab my board from the foyer, I see her tidying up the living room. Now that I think about it, she's always made sure the house looks perfect after one of my parties—because Lord knows I can't clean for shit. I get the garbage picked up, sure, but she makes it look like new again.
With my hand on the door handle, I stop. “Hey, Mel?” She looks up at me. “Thanks…for everything.”
A warm smile graces her face, and I feel a little better about myself as I leave. Maybe I don't have to be so cold all the time. The only people who have done wrong here are Ken and my mom. They're the only ones who need to pay for the choices they've made. Not the staff. Not Lennon. Just them.
PULLING UP TO MY dad's, his car is sitting in the driveway. Dread washes over me as I realize he's probably shitfaced—again. I grab my wallet from the center console and head inside.
I managed to take a little over five grand from the safe, and while it won't last forever, it'll at least keep the lights on for a bit longer. Hopefully by the time all that's gone, my dad will be back on his feet, but I doubt it. Train wreck doesn't even begin to describe the state he's in.
As I walk inside, I can see everything is a mess again, but not as bad since I just cleaned it a week ago. My dad is laying on the couch, passed out with a beer still firmly in his hand. He looks like he hasn't showered in weeks, with facial hair taking over his features.
I grab the stack of bills from the counter and bring them into my room, getting to work on paying these things.
I'M JUST MAKING THE last payment when the sound of my dad throwing up catches my attention. I tell the woman on the phone to email me the confirmation number and hang up before running to go help him. He's hunched over the toilet in the main bathroom, but there's vomit all over his shirt.
“Dad, are you okay?”
He waves me off without looking my way. “I'm fine. It's a stomach bug.”
That manages to piss me off. “Seriously? You're just going to fucking lie? To Molly I could understand, but me?”
His mouth opens to answer, but all that comes out is more vomit. I cringe and turn away, shielding my nose from the smell. When he's done, I help pull his shirt over his head without making a mess. It takes everything I have not to throw up myself.
I throw the clothes in the washer and start it. When I come back into the living room, my dad is already drinking again. I grab the bottle of Jack Daniels and rip it away from him.
“What the fuck, Cade?”
He reaches for it, but I pull it away again. “No. You need to get your shit together. You think this is the kind of guy Mom would want to come back to?”
My dad snarls at me. “She's not coming back. I lost her. I lost her to some Kensington Bradwell prick.”
“He's her new, shiny toy. But you two have twenty years of history and two kids together. If there's a competition to be had, you'll win in the long run, but not if you don't clean yourself up and be the man she fell in love with in the first place. She could still come back.”
He rolls his eyes. “There won't be somewhere for her to come back to. The house is going to get foreclosed on when I can't pay the mortgage.”
“I paid it.”
His brows furrow. “You what?”
I shrug. “I paid the mortgage, and the rest of the bills. From now on, I’ll deal with them. I'd give you the money, but I don't trust you wouldn't spend it on alcohol.”
“How the hell did you do that?”
The truth of it all sits heavily in my stomach. No child should have to steal money in order to support their father, but in a way, Ken owes this to my dad. He's part of the reason