Page 50 of Wraith
“That’s not why I asked you in here,” our father breaks in.
He stands to the side, his arms crossed over his ample chest. He doesn’t really look like a healthy man, all his features sagging with age, but in his prime, I can see that he was actually something, or rather, someone that women would find attractive. He was probably once tall and broad. He has that kind of animal power that other men want, and women fall all over themselves for.
Gross.
I hate realizing things like that about my own parent.
To my surprise, he heaves a sigh. My father doesn’t sigh. He’s never not in control, or at the very least, completely collected, at least on the outside.
“I wanted to tell you, that all those months ago, I know you didn’t understand my decision. I know that you’ve thought of me as a tyrant and that I haven’t been a very good father. The truth is, I never knew how to be. I left you with your mother, Stephanie, because she’s a good woman who I knew would love you and care for you better than I ever could. I wanted to screw you up as little as possible, so I stayed away. I provided for you the best I could, financially, to give you the things you needed and wanted.”
Well hello. That certainly is news to me. Apparently, it’s news to Steph too, or maybe it’s just the pregnancy hormones, because her eyes well up and tears start trickling down her cheeks. She makes no move to brush them away, just stands there, eyes shimmering, prettier than ever.
“Leena, I know you have even less reason to think of me as a father. All I know how to do is raise boys. Tough, strong boys. I was raised that way. Harsh. Without a gentle hand. I don’t know how to be loving and kind. I didn’t know how to ensure you had a good future. I gave you both the best shot I had,” he pauses and his eyes go from me to my sister. “When I asked Steel for three husbands, it wasn’t just to trade you off, though I know you saw it that way. I wanted to give you a future. I wanted to give you the things I never knew growing up and the family I wasn’t able to give you. Steel’s a good man, and I trusted him to make good matches.”
“You- you could have let us choose for ourselves,” I say roughly, probably also unfairly, in the face of an uncharacteristic display of emotion from a normally hard man.
“I thought about that,” my father admits. His eyes dart around the kitchen, obviously uncomfortable. “I also thought that if it didn’t work out, you’d go on to do that for yourselves. I wanted to give you the chance. I didn’t want you to wade through the bullshit first, to be used by men like- like me. Men who would find out who your family was and want you for what it meant for them. Any man who treated either of you badly, I would find and kill. I thought this way, I could avoid a high body count.”
Both Steph and I stare at each other for a few stunned minutes. Finally, she laughs, that sweet musical sounding laugh that she’s always had. Even I have to smile.
“You tried that with Tracker,” I admit. “It didn’t work out.”
“It’s not my fault the bastard has a chest of steel and was pumped up on enough drugs that shooting him didn’t seem to make a difference.”
“It’s a good thing,” I remind him quietly. “The Riders took him back. He’s still trying to get clean, but he’s sorry. Sorrier than you can imagine. My own husband… his past… he’s a good man. He deserved another chance. He deserved someone to love him and a family, like everyone else. Sometimes life makes us into people we don’t want to be. Or we let it.”
Tracker has been given another chance, though I think this time everyone knows it’s his final one.Finalfinal. Addiction can make people do things they otherwise wouldn’t, and Steel and my father hope that once Tracker is clean, then the man he used to be will emerge. People don’t think about one-percent MCs having compassion, they only know the violence, but at the heart is a strict moral code. Some things are unforgiveable, but other times, even the worst offender deserves a chance to make things right.
My father swallows audibly, as loud as a gunshot. My mouth nearly drops open, because my father does not act like this. Ever. He’s never been anything less than hard. Vulnerability, regret, gentleness—those are things he isn’t.
Until now.
It makes me realize that it’s not too late. That people really can change. Or maybe it was there all along, and we just never gave it a chance. I never saw below the surface, and he never gave me that glimpse I so desperately needed.
“I hope that’s true for us all,” he chokes out.
Steph steps forward and actually takes his hand. “It is,” she assures him gently. “I’m very happy. I didn’t think I would be, but I was willing to keep an open mind. I love Adam. We’re going to be a family soon. In a way, you made all of that happen. It will be your first grandchild, and I hope that we can keep having family gatherings so our baby can know all the aunties and uncles who will love it. And his grandma and grandpa, of course.”
I’ve never seen my father’s face so soft as when he looks down at Steph. It blows my mind that this is the same man I grew up basically loathing and fearing. I know we have a long way to go. A real long way, but I suppose that everything has to have a start.
I can’t remember a time in my life when my father ever willingly touched me. I mean, more than a brush of an arm here or there.
Steph still clings to his other hand, but I surprise myself by reaching out and taking his free one. I study the veins at the back, the surprising age spots, the way the skin has thinned and slackened, and I realize that my father might not be just the fearsome presence that I thought he was. He might not be icy and rigid and filled with cruel, cold ambition. Or if he was, maybe something has changed.
The past six months have changed all of us.
I think about Wraith. How The Riders gave him a shot. How if Steel hadn’t, I never would have met him. The man I love, the soul that was always meant to be twisted up with mine. He’s everything to me. The day and night. My reason for being. The joy in my life and the sun in my heart.
So maybe I can give my father that chance too.
“I had a good time,” I admit, blinking hard against the sudden sting of tears. “This. It was fun. We should do it again.”
My father, a man I might learn to call dad, in time, nods. “We will.”
He leaves Steph and I in the kitchen, stunned. We barely manage to pick our jaws off the floor and stare at each other.
“That was really weird,” Steph breathes. “All of this is.”
