Page 46 of Locke

“And Locke?”

“You didn’t have to hurt him that badly.”

“He’s not bad.”

“He is too, Hodge. He can barely move,” I protest. Hodge pulls back to look at me and smiles.

“Good. He got what he deserved then.”

“Seriously? You think he deserved that?”

“Puttin’ his hands on you? Yeah, he did. And he knows that.”

“Have you talked to him?” Hodge shakes his head.

“No. I will, though. We’ll fix this.”

“Where’s Dad?”

“In his office. Go on up.” He gives me a little shove in that direction. I’m hesitant at first and shuffle my feet, not wanting to go up there. I’m nervous as fuck, and I don’t know why. Maybe because I came back already and didn’t stay away? I don’t know, but I am.

I walk to this office and knock on the door. He calls out to me to come in.

“You’re back,” he says as he stands from his seat and comes toward me, arms wide open. I rush into his waiting arms and hug the man who’s been there for me my whole life.

“I’m sorry,” I cry into his shirt.

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

“But I should have talked to you and not just run off,” I tell him.

“That’s true. I was scared shitless until I found out where you were.” He holds me a little tighter.

“What happened to Locke wasn’t needed.” He pulls away now and I see my mom sitting in the chair near his desk.

“Yeah, it was. We handle shit around here just like that, and you know it. Always have, sweetheart.”

“He’s been through so much,” I remind him.

“I know he has. Maybe he’s learned his lesson now. Did you talk to him?”

“A little.”

“And?”

“And he said he was sorry and walked away from me.” My dad nods his head like he understands.

“Take a seat with your mom,” he says, nodding toward the other chair. I walk over and sit down as I listen to him call for Locke to come up here. My heart hammers in my chest when my mom reaches over and grabs my hand in hers. We’ve never been that type, never had that kind of relationship before but I’m thankful for her right now.

Locke walks in the air thickens.

“You fucked up, Locke. You fucked up big time,” my dad states. He won’t even look at me, and that hurts.

“I know I did, Prez. I’ll be outta here soon,” he responds.

“No, you won’t.”

“What do you mean?”

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