Page 32 of Shattered Fate

“Probably right, but never hurts to see what will shake out. It’s Donnelly’s dime.”

“Anything else in the pipeline?”

“Your mother called me again. You avoiding her?” Pop asks, looking at me out of the corners of his eyes.

“No. Yes. No. She’ll want to talk about Max.”

“You don’t want to? He was your brother.”

“I know who he was. She’ll want to know when I’m going to go through his apartment. I’ve paid rent on that place for over a year. She wants me to clean it out.”

“What are you hiding from, Gage?”

I look Pop full-on. He rarely says my name. When he does, I know it's serious.

I'm silent until we reach the office. I park next to Pop’s car and let my hands drop off the steering wheel. “I was a shitty brother. I never cared about spending time with him. I never felt good enough. Never felt like we had anything in common.”

Pop doesn’t say anything. Probably feels a little guilty. He and Mom kept their distance after the divorce and I preferred spending as much time with Pop as I could. Mom didn’t complain, especially after Max was born.

“It’s why I’m not going to make a play for Zarah Maddox. Max was her style. He had class. I’m a hood, a punk. You think she wants to date someone like me? She can have her pick of anyone in the world. And I mean literally, Pop.Anyone.I don’t want to clean out his apartment. It will just remind me of what a jackass I was.”

To my embarrassment, tears clog my throat. I never cried over Max’s death, blamed him, really, for getting shot in the first place.

“I’m sorry this is all I am,” Pop says and unbuckles his seatbelt. We both stare at the rundown strip mall that houses our office. “I’m sorry I’m not tuxedos and caviar like Rourke is. I’m sorry we don’t jet off on vacation.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I’m not asking you to be like that. I’m not asking for that lifestyle.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it.” Pop jumps out of the truck and I sit, fucking tears burning the backs of my eyes.

I made him feel bad for where he came from, and that hadn’t been my intention. I’m proud of our roots, and I’m proud of the work we do. I’m proud to be blue collar because God knows being rich isn’t a yardstick for integrity or human decency. Every day the DA’s office arrests another asshole.

I don’t want money. I don’t need it.

Zarah’s fucking with my head.

I’ll clean out Max’s apartment and put it all behind me. Letting it sit is a waste of money.

I debate going into the office and apologizing, but in the end, I leave it alone. He has his own regrets with the way he and Mom raised me. He doesn’t have to shoulder the blame they didn’t work out, but parents feel like that when they divorce. I know my parents love me, and that’s more than what some kids have.

Baby’s happy to see me, and I let her outside to sniff around. My cell dings and I yank off my gloves and pull it out of the back pocket of my jeans. It’s a text from an unknown number.

Hi.

I think the person has the wrong number and say so.You have the wrong number.

I shove it into my pocket, and Baby keeps sniffing. My phone chimes again.

Is this Gage?

Yeah. Who’s this?

Zarah.

I’m tempted to tell her I’m busy. I don’t want to talk to her, not after the conversation Pop and I just had, and nothing could make me more aware I don’t belong in Zarah’s world than watching Baby sniff around a dumpster in the industrial park.

Pursing my lips, I type,Are you OK?

I’m fine. Do you want to bring Baby to play outside? Does she get along with other dogs?

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