Page 43 of Charger

“Is she my daughter?” His voice cracks.

We can’t have this discussion here, so I grab onto one of his solid, tattooed forearms and guide him into the small hallway. We’re right above the stairs leading to the bar, but it’s not open yet.

After I close the door, I lean against the frame, letting out a breath.

“Yes, she’s your daughter.” I feel the wetness slip down my cheeks. Anger, hurt, confusion, regret. Any emotion, you name it, and Zach has it in his eyes.

That night, the night the condom broke, I didn’t think it would actually happen. That slim chance of getting pregnant… I didn’t even notice until about a few months after. The morning sickness started, the obvious weight gain, the missed menstrual cycle. I just thought it was stress, until my mother sat me down and asked me what was going on. It eventually clicked. I mean, I was eighteen. Young and naive. She went with me to get a test and here we are, six years later. I would have never, ever, in a million years kept this from him. He had every right, he deserved to know. But how could I tell the father when I had no idea where he was? How could I tell someone who didn’t want to be found?

“I have a daughter. I have a fucking daughter and I didn’t know. How could you not tell me I had a daughter?”

“Are you kidding me?” I leave the safety of the door to stand right in front of him. Since Zach was always taller than me, I have to look up. Did he grow even more? “How could I not tell you? Well, it might have been because I didn’t know where the fuck you were. Or maybe because you left without a trace. No phone call, no text, nothing. Your old number was disconnected. Your own mother didn’t even know where you were. I tried to find you, Zach.” I stop only to take a breath. “Do you think I enjoyed keeping her from you? I didn’t want her to grow up without a father, and I sure as hell didn’t want you to not know about her. So, you have the nerve, the audacity, to stand here, at my house, accusing me of not telling you.” I let out a laugh. “Now that’s hilarious. As far as I was concerned, you died along with my brother that night.” I swipe a tear off my cheek just in time for another one to replace it. His shoulders lose their stiffness and his eyes soften.

“You could have found me if you really wanted to. And when we saw each other two nights ago, you could have told me then. What would have happened if I didn’t swing on by tonight, Jules, huh? You just would have kept on going about your everyday life.”

He’s right—that should have been my first priority. But the shock of seeing him after all these years was too strong. I needed time to process it. I didn’t know what to do.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you that night, yes, not let you leave. But it was too much seeing you again. And what did you want me to do exactly, hire a private investigator all those years ago? So I could find a man who didn’t want anything to do with me. To find someone who didn’t want to be found.” The last part came out in a screech. “Just go, Zach.”

He cocks his head back, as if I hit him. “Go, you serious? I just found out that, that little girl in there is my daughter and you think I’m just gonna leave?”

There’s a silent pause between us before his phone buzzes in his pocket. Since he didn’t answer, it goes off a second time. He snatches it out of his pocket in frustration.

“Fuck,” he snaps. Huffing out a breath, he looks down at the ground, balling his fist. “You want me to be honest about all those years ago? About why I left without a word, without calling, without anything?” he asks me softly. I swipe another tear off my face. “I blamed you.” His words are like a sledgehammer to my chest, like the walls suddenly collapsed all around me. The feeling of losing oxygen swirls in my lungs. “I blamed you for your brother’s death. The night of the party… I felt like if you hadn’t overreacted to me dancing with Sam at the prom, then you wouldn’t have run off to that party. I wouldn’t have had to take you home. Garrett had no other choice but to get a ride with someone else. The sick fuck inside me… blamed you. The girl I loved, the girl who I wanted to marry. I blamed you. And because of that, I left. I ran like the coward that I was, that I am.” He stops to breathe. “Jules, I was an asshole and for that, I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry. But it wasn’t true, not really. I was a dumb kid who didn’t know any better.” He steps forward, but the hurt he sees inside me stops him. I shove at his chest.

I carry the weight of my brother’s death with me every day, so the fact that Zach is standing here, telling me he blamed me for Garrett’s accident, makes it so much worse. The pain. The hurt. The guilt.

“Get out.” My shoulders shudder from crying. “Get. Out.”

“Jules…”

“Get out.” My voice is soft, but defeated.

He starts to walk away, but turns back. “You can’t keep me from seeing my daughter.” I hear the sound of his heavy footsteps hit each stair, with the chains on each boot rattling, then the slam of the door.

I walk backwards until my body hits the door, letting myself slip to the floor. He blamed me? Did my heart just get ripped to shreds all over again? Those words cut like a knife. Missing Garrett has become a daily routine. I didn’t need more backlash from it. But the sad thing is that I want to hate Zach. Hate him with every breath I have. Let the hatred fill my body, ignite my mind and soul. But I can’t. After everything, I can’t.

SEVENTEEN

Charger

I storm out of Jules’s place, kicking the dirt in frustration, like I’m ten years old again.

I have a fucking daughter.

Turning my bike on, I notice that “For You” by All That Remains is playing.

The pain in her eyes gutted my insides. The urge to grab her, hold her in my arms until she stopped crying, was unbearable. I needed to be honest with why I left, but at what cost? Seeing her in pain took me back. Back to a dark place. A place I never want to go again. I was a stupid kid who didn’t know shit. I was just someone who lost his best friend. I didn’t know how to handle my emotions. My selfishness over losing my best friend made me forget that she also lost her brother. I would give anything to undo the pain I caused her.

Still, she can’t keep me from seeing my daughter.

I knew… I knew the moment I looked into that little girl’s eyes that she was mine. Explaining that feeling is impossible, but I just knew.

Slamming my fist into the handlebar of my bike (again out of frustration), I dial Hush’s number. Losing out on five years of my daughter’s life makes me physically fucking ill. No more wasted time. I knock the kickstand up with my boot and take off down the pavement.

When I pull into the meet-up spot, Hush is waiting for me. He’s twirling a baseball bat like a fucking baton at a pep rally—cigarette in mouth, hood up, eyes dark. The dude would probably blend right in if he stood in a dark alley.

The place is secluded so we don’t have to worry about any outside eyes.

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