Page 73 of Second Chance Serenity

“Michael—” My mother presses a hand to her heart. “I didn’t know.”

“Not many did. Because I left town before I got to officially graduate.” Thankfully, the extra credit classes I’d taken over the four years of high school gave me the chance to graduate early. I’d been able to request my transcripts and leave before I even had the chance to make the walk and get my diploma.

“When you left us and joined the service, I wasn’t sure how to handle it. I wanted to drive to wherever you were and drag you home myself.” My father wipes tears from his face. “I’d wanted to scream at you for throwing a future away, but I never actually realized it wasn’t one you wanted. Why didn’t you tell me that you played football for me?”

Did Reyna dump it all on him in those few minutes they were in the hall? My admiration for her grows, even as this is a conversation I’d really rather not have while I’m lying in a hospital bed, feeling more vulnerable than I care to admit. “I didn’t see a point. I enjoyed it well enough, but I’d known for years it wasn’t what I wanted to do with my life. Something I tried to tell you.”

“But I believed the only reason you didn’t want to go pro was because of Reyna.”

“Yes, because you were too stubborn to listen to anything that was coming out of my mouth.”

My father takes a deep, steadying breath. “I’m sorry, Michael. I’m so, so sorry. You have no idea how many times I wish I’d just died in that accident so that I didn’t have to suffer the loss of you. After your incident overseas—” He pinches the bridge of his nose as his shoulders begin to shake.

Ma, completely taken aback by his display of emotions, gets up and walks over to him. She kneels beside him, but he shakes his head.

“I’m fine, Delilah,” he says, then takes a deep breath. “I was so angry with myself that I wasn’t paying attention. When I veered off the road and found myself barreling toward that tree, all I could think about was how much I was going to regret not getting to tell you how I felt. How sorry I was. And then I lived, but I was too stubborn. But I need you to know now, Michael. You and your sister are my biggest achievements. Knowing the man you’ve become makes me proud to be your father, and I am so incredibly sorry that I caused you so much pain.”

Never in a million years did I think I would get an apology from my father. So to see him sitting there, tears streaming down his cheeks, as he says he’s sorry, throws me completely off guard. “I—thank you.”

My father nods, then turns to my mother. “And I’ve been terrible to you, my love. I’ve been angry, so angry at myself for letting my emotions get the better of me. I am so sorry for everything you’ve had to deal with, and even if it takes every moment of the rest of my life, I’m going to make it up to you.”

My mother throws her arms around my father and crushes him in a hug, and the two of them remain there for long enough that I’m starting to feel like a third party in my own hospital room.

Finally, right on time, my sister pushes open the door, and she and Matty come in. She eyes our parents and then me before setting the bakery box in her hand down on my tray. “What’s going on here?”

“I’m realizing just how awful I’ve been to you all over the years and am promising to do better.”

“Dad.” Margot tears up and wraps an arm around his shoulders, then looks at me with an expression that lets me know she’ll be pumping me for information later. Which is fine. Except I’m not entirely sure what to tell her, since I’m not even certain what caused this drastic shift.

But as I look at my dad, I see the man who’d driven me to my first boxing match. Who’d taken me out for ice cream when I lost—horribly—and stood at my side as I learned to fish. And I know that while Reyna’s words had a huge impact on the change I’m seeing here, there’s only one thing that could have changed him this way.

Thank you, God. Thank you for bringing him back to us.

“We’ve got news for you,” Lance says as he, Elijah, and Silas stroll into the hospital room. He offers me a folder, and I take it, then glance back out the window one final time before opening it. I’m finally back on my feet after Doc told me it would be better for my recovery if I were up and moving around as I could tolerate.

I flip the folder open and find myself staring at a surveillance picture of a familiar man in an expensive suit. Anger flashes to life inside me as I stare down at the man who questioned Reyna and me. “This is the man who ordered Reyna’s abduction.”

“I thought so.” Lance crosses his arms. “It seems Carter just put a particularly nasty guy in prison. Drugs, people, information…the guy traffics it all.”

“This guy wasn’t in prison.”

“That’s because no one can get him on anything.” Lance sighs. “The man you’re looking at is Zeke Phillips. He’s a lawyer out of Miami and represented Willy Carson, who Carter just put behind bars two months ago, shutting down a massive operation. Or so everyone thought when they’d believed Carson was at the head of it.”

“What was a lawyer from Miami doing representing someone from Boston?”

“Carson’s not from Boston,” Elijah tells me. “He was visiting, and they picked him up for drugging some woman’s drink at a bar. There was an undercover there and he saw the whole thing. They didn’t even get Carson for anything else until Carter pulled some evidence that Phillips claims never existed in the first place. The whole thing smells.”

“But we know who he is, and that he had us held against our will. Can we not turn that in?”

“We need proof,” Lance replies. “This guy is as slippery as they come. We go at him and were inciting a war.”

“He incited it when he came after Reyna.” I hand him the folder. “Does the fact that I nearly died not go for anything? What about the guys you grabbed from the banquet?” They haven’t confirmed that anyone was arrested, but given I’d knocked one guy unconscious, I’m assuming so.

“Claim they thought she was pretty and wanted to grab her,” Elijah says.

“Which is a lie so no one will press any further after the confession.” I shake my head.

“Exactly. And, word has it, Zeke Phillips himself is in Boston offering them legal aid.”

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