Page 77 of Tight End

Part of me wished he didn’t.

The other part of me is grateful he did.

Because what the hell can I really offer the guy?

I narrow my eyes as a familiar figure walks toward the glass door. James’s dad. Anger immediately replaces all of the other emotions I’ve been battling. His head is down and he’s peering at his phone. It’s rare that he comes inside to getJames. He usually just loiters outside, like he can’t be bothered to talk to the people spending time with his kid.

I shoot up out of the chair and stalk toward the door, furious at how he’s abandoned his kid.

Allie would say I’m projecting and she may be right.

This dipshit has the chance to make things better between him and his son. Maybe he’s not interested, maybe he’s just too heartbroken to get past the trauma.

But either way, he needs to know the damage he’s doing and that the effects will be the forever kind if he doesn’t fix shit now, when he has the chance.

When his son needs him the most.

I shove the glass door open and walk out onto the sidewalk. “You’re James’s dad, yeah?”

He looks up, surprised. Then recognition flickers in his eyes. “Uh, yeah. And you’re?—”

I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter who I am. I came out to let you know that I’ve worked with him every day, teaching him guitar because that’s what gets him excited. What makes him happy.” I clench my fists. “What makes him feel closer to his mom.”

The guy’s face drains of all color. Then, after a few seconds, his eyes darken and his lips twist like he wants to punch me.

Get in fucking line, dick.

“I didn’t know that. I didn’t bring him here to work on music shit. I did it so he could learn how to play a sport. How he can find a way to connect with kids his own age and not hole himself up in his room every day and night. He needs friends. A life.”

“No.” I’m practically seething now, heat rising in my chest like a spurt of magma ready to spew from my lips. “He needs his father. He told me about losing his mom, how you’vewritten him off and shut him out. He’s hurting, too. And as his dad, it’s your job to help him pick up the pieces.”

The guy bristles and pulls himself up to his full height, puffing out his chest. “I don’t care that you’re a famous rock star. Don’t you dare tell me how to handle my family matters. You don’t know what we’ve been through.”

I nod. “You’re right. I don’t. My mom died when I was born, so I never knew her. Can’t imagine how much pain James is in, dealing with that loss. But I know how it feels to be cut out by your dad, the one who’s supposed to take care of you no matter what. It fucking sucks. And it makes you question your worth because if your father doesn’t want to be bothered with you, why would anyone else?”

The guy’s jaw drops. He doesn’t speak, just stares at me.

“James is a great kid. He’s a talented kid. And if you spent some time with him, you’d see it, too. Ask yourself this question. How would your wife feel if she knew how much James was hurting and that you weren’t doing your job as his dad to help?”

A long pause follows. “I…I…it’s too much,” he finally says, his voice cracking. “If I stay away, I can hold it together. I can’t be his rock. Every time I hear him play her guitar, I near crumble. I know I’m letting him down. Her, too. But I just don’t know how to handle it. She was…everything.”

“You still have a hell of a lot. Help each other. Give him the support he needs. Let him do that for you.” I step back, the cool afternoon breeze prickling my skin. “He’s in one of the gyms right now running football plays. You should go in there and watch. I bet he’d like it.”

The guy slowly nods and looks past me into the building. He bites down on his lower lip, takes a deep breath, and his lips slowly lift.

“Thanks.”

Then he disappears inside.

I square my shoulders and head for my rental.

Looks like I can be a do-gooder, too.

I lean forward onto the steering wheel, a deep sigh shuddering my chest.

I bet Sam would be proud.

“We’re hereto talk about the future of Sin City.” Anthony Reece, one of the executives at the label, glowers at me. “You’ve put the band, as well as the label, in a very poor light as a result of your recent actions.”

---