Page 25 of Return to You

Now it was his time to return the favor. He needed to take whatever burdens he could off of her. So, it was time to get this over with and get back to what really mattered: Ali and the boys.

He turned to face the trailer once more.

No expectations, he reminded himself.

He called on what he’d learned in recovery to change the things he could and accept the things he couldn’t. He couldn’t change his dad, but he could change how he responded to him. All Kade could do was focus on controlling himself and his side of the conversation.

He rolled his head from side to side, blew out a breath, and shook his arms to release the negative energy.

When he closed his hand in a fist and knocked three times on the door, he still wasn’t sure he was ready to face what was on the other side, but he knew he didn’t have a choice.

Indistinguishable sounds came from inside before the door squeaked open. When it did, Kade took a step back. The man standing in front of him had the same dark gray eyes as George McKnight, the same strong jaw and arrow-straight nose, but the rest of him was unrecognizable.

At six foot four carrying a broad, muscular frame and a cold, menacing stare, his father was the type of man that people parted for when he walked down the street. The type of man that other men looked away from first. The type of man that walked into a room and the entire place quieted down.

When his dad was younger, someone had given him the nickname “Outlaw.” In Nashville, stories about George “Outlaw” McKnight were legendary. He’d made a man piss his pants with just a stare. He’d won a bar brawl against six men without a scratch on him.

All of his life, Kade had grown up with a father that was imposing, intimidating, and feared.

That wasn’t the same man that Kade saw now. This man looked small, weak, and feeble. There was a tube beneath his nose that wrapped around his ears and he was leaning on an oxygen tank beside him.

“Heard you were back in town,” George said as he turned his back to Kade and took two steps toward a thread-bare recliner.

Kade ducked his head and followed his father into the musty trailer and winced at the overwhelming smell of cat piss and cigarettes. When the door shut behind him, he noticed the vast array of prescription bottles on the TV tray set up beside the La-Z-Boy. There had to be at least a dozen, all different sizes. Some were short and fat, others tall and skinny.

A different kind of uneasy feeling settled in Kade’s chest.

“You’re sick.” Kade stated bluntly as he lowered down onto the bench seat in the kitchenette area.

Small talk had never been the McKnight way. If you had something to say, you said it. No pussyfooting around, was how his dad used to put it.

“Yep.” George’s attention remained on the twenty-four-inch console television that they’d had since Kade was a kid. The host of Antiques Roadshow just asked a man where he’d found his Benjamin Ward Chamber Clock and his dad seemed riveted.

“How long?”

“Six months.”

That number shocked Kade. “You’ve been sick for six months?”

“No, that’s how long they gave me.”

“Gave you…? You’re dying?” Kade waited to feel the relief that he’d always assumed would be his reaction when this news came. But it didn’t come. He didn’t feel anything.

“We’re all dying.” George wheezed and coughed before continuing gruffly, “And they’ve been giving me six months for the past three years so what the hell do they know?”

It didn’t surprise Kade that whatever was killing his father was having a hard time doing so. He was a tough SOB. “What is it? What’s wrong with you?”

“Throat cancer. Liver failure. Enlarged heart.”

“Fuck.” Kade leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands as he stared down at the Parquet flooring. “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not,” George snapped and Kade looked up to see his father’s expression tighten. His lips pursed and if Kade didn’t know any better he would’ve sworn he saw tears forming in his old man’s eyes. “And you shouldn’t be. You shouldn’t even be here.” George motioned to the door, extending an invitation for his son to get the hell out.

Kade stood. He didn’t need to be told twice. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m moving back home. To Whisper Lake. I wanted you to hear it from me.”

George’s sharp nod was his only response.

Kade opened the door but stopped short of exiting. “What’s the story with the dog?”

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