Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
I inhale so sharply that it’s like a scream of wind whistling through a cave. Reg’s head snaps up, and his eyes trace the length of the massive knife in my hand. Right. I probably shouldn’t be operating sharp implements right now. I set it down. Slowly.
Reg seems to breathe a sigh of relief. What did he think I was going to do?
Shit.
My face.
I spin around, snatch the butter, and use the flipper to cut some off the block to grease the frying pan. There’s zero chance that I’m going to get my face arranged into something that’s less storm clouds and foul murder, so I had better just stay here at the stove.
“All these years, she let me think you were a deadbeat dad who didn’t even want to have a relationship with me,” Reg whispers brokenly. “I could see you were trying, but if you didn’t give a shit, then why would I? I know how little sense that makes, but I was a kid, and then I was a teenager, and there was nothing getting through to me then. Even now, I…I know, okay. I’m a shithead.”
“You’re not a shithead,” War says.
Well, fuck. War sounds perfectly convinced of that. I’d tend to disagree, so, yeah…stove-staring it is.
I haven’t even turned the burner on yet, and here I am, stirring butter around a cold pan with a flipper I’d like to turn around and smack Reg with. I’m not hurting for me right now. I’m hurting for a good man who has done nothing wrong.
War has every right to lose his shit right now. I angle to the side just enough that I can see his face. He looks totally destroyed, but it’s clear that he’s not angry. He never gets properly angry. Maybe it’s so many years of learning how to take the punches and rollover. Maybe it’s because he was forced to give up his voice. Or, quite possibly, he knows how futile it is.
All the same, I’m feeling angry for him. I thought my heart knew what pain was before, but hearing this makes me ache so deeply that I can hardly breathe.
I know this is a good thing, in a way. War was so worried about Reg getting hurt or trapped between him and Candice. He never wanted Reg to have a reason to hate him. He did his best to care for Reg and protect him. At least Reg knows the truth now. War never had to say anything, and Reg found out himself what kind of woman was raising him.
“I’m sorry I treated you so badly for all those years,” Reg says, his voice so rough that it comes out like a groan. “And no, I’m not saying that because I want anything from you. I know I’m not your son, and I don’t expect you to keep looking after me. I’ll make my own way.”
“You’re still my son, Reginald,” War says roughly. There’s no masking his emotion. “All I ever wanted was to have a relationship with you. I haven’t changed my mind.”
“But…but I’m not even your DNA,” he stammers.
I have to swivel around and peek at him while pretending I’m not. He looks pale, sweaty, and a little like he just got kicked in the nuts. He can’t understand why War would ever make such an offer. All these years, and this is what Reg couldn’t and wouldn’t see.
War slips off the barstool and puts his hand on Reg’s shoulder. “Family doesn’t always have to be blood. I feel like you have a hard time coming up in front of you. If you need someone to talk to, please know that I’m here.”
“But you already paid for my tuition and everything. I want to pay you back. I wish I could do something about all the money you gave my mom, but I could never hope to—”
“I don’t want to be paid back,” War cuts in.
Reg bows his head. “Because of what Candice did, I had the best of everything.”
“I wanted you to be looked after,” War insists. “It was important to me that you went to good schools, had healthy food, and lived in a safe neighborhood.”
“Good god, man, it was more than safe. Have you seen our house? We’ve lived like royalty because my mom did something horrible. I knew she…she wasn’t always kind to people, but I had no idea she was capable of that level of evil. Amalphia…” Hearing my name makes me jump. Either my covert side eye wasn’t so covert, or Reg has finally clued into the fact that the sandwiches sure aren’t getting made very fast. “Turn around. I want to tell you something.”
I thought my heart was knocking before, but now I’m the one sweating. My skin is cool and clammy, and my heart is up somewhere near my throat. Air is such a precious commodity. I’ve wanted this. All I wanted the day Reg dropped the whole I may have fucked us all by losing a ton of money at cards, and I’m a huge asshole, so now you’re going to have to deal with the fallout as I peace out, bullshit was for him to apologize and mean it. Not that an apology could have fixed it or paid those debts, but it would have meant something.