Page 43 of Roses and Skulls

Dad doesn’t even grace me with a glance. “Like I said, I will be here. Every. Night.”

Draven laughs. “Jesus, man, you’re going to give yourself a coronary. I can see you’re upset about her working here. I just wanted to give her a piece of her grandfather back.”

My dad shoves him, knocking him to the ground. “Don’t pretend to know what my daughter needs.” He grabs my arm, but I spin out of his grip.

“I don’t need anyone to tell me what I need. I’m walking.” I storm off, leaving them to yell at each other.

Men are so stupid. I don’t know how mom has put up with so much testosterone over the years. The gravel crunches beneath my feet as I continue walking down the road. I bet Elijah got a kick out my dad and Draven going nuts over me. I’m sure he was watching safely from a window somewhere.

A truck pulls up beside me.

I stop and stare at the moon. Peace, I just want a little peace.

“Can’t you just let me live my life?”

My dad doesn’t say anything.

I drop my shoulders and open the door. “If you’re just going to yell at me, I’m not getting in.”

He hands me a box, wrapped with a pretty red bow on top.

I climb up in the truck and accept the gift. “What’s this?”

He shifts the truck into gear. “It’s a new phone. But just so you know, I specifically asked for a model that won’t talk back to me.”

I chuckle lightly.

“I love hearing your voice,” he says quietly.

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t sound the same.” I run the soft satin bow between my fingers.

My dad pulls off the road at the very spot the accident occurred. My stomach falls. What’s he doing?

He kills the engine. “Of course, it sounds different. You sound like a woman.”

I bite my lip and stare at the gift in my lap. “I want to go home.”

“I know that just because we forced you to speak, it doesn’t mean you’re ready to talk, so don’t. I just need you to listen.”

“Dad, I don’t like it here,” I say nervously, trying my best not to lose my shit.

He reaches over and grabs my hand. “I don’t like it here either. It reminds me just how close I was to losing you.”

He doesn’t start the truck though.

“That night, I was supposed to pick you up from the dance, but I got a call from one of my guys saying some chick told him someone was selling dope down by the high school. So, Bill said he would give you a ride, he told me to go take care of business.”

He squeezes my hand before letting go to run his hands through his hair. He sighs loudly, shaking his head. “I was sitting across the street from the school when Bill picked you up. I watched you and Lanie climb in the truck with him.”

I glance at my dad, he looks tired.

“I never did find anyone selling drugs.” He looks at me. “When I got home that night and you and Bill weren’t back, I wanted to go looking for you, but mom said you had probably stopped off at the bar. I… I should’ve trusted my gut. I should have looked for you right away.” He turns to face the windshield. “It should have been me that picked you up. I fucked up, Billie Rose. I should have put you first. I’m sorry.” He buries his face in his hands and cries, “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so, sorry.”

My dad is the scariest motherfucker out there and he is sobbing, letting me see a part of him I’ve never seen. I don’t know if he’s ever let anyone see this side of him. I’ve been so selfish, thinking that night had only trapped me… I think he’s been trapped too.

“Do you remember that time I climbed a tree when we were visiting Uncle William in San Diego?” I ask.

He wipes his eyes with his tattooed hands before running them down his ripped jeans. He pinches the bridge of his nose and stares out the windshield, still unable to look at me. “Yeah, the one that fucking punk talked you into climbing?”

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