Page 38 of Finding Home with You

Of course it’s not. It’s a fucking private room and I have one hour in a room with my father; a man I haven’t seen in over ten years.

“You are allowed one hug and one closed-mouth kiss neither lasting more than two seconds,” the guard states, reminding me of the rules and I want to tell him that won’t be an issue.

The guard explains the procedures for ending the visitation should I want to before the hour is up and then he leaves the room.

My stomach churns as I pull the chair out from under the table and sit down, but I stand up immediately. I pace the room, my hands shaking as I wait for my father to come through the door.

It feels like forever and my fingers begin to tingle, so I shake my hands trying to rid myself of this feeling. The sound of locks being turned, and doors closing cuts through the echoing silence of the cinderblock walls, and within seconds my father appears in the room.

He stops on just the other side of the door as the guard removes the cuffs and chains that are around his waist, wrists and ankles.

We’re left staring at each other; the only sound filling the room is that of jingling keys and rustling chains.

He’s wearing an orange shirt and pants, and pair of white slip-on shoes. He looks tired and old, and his face is weathered, his hair almost all gray. He looks nothing like I remember, now he wears the face of a man who has seen more in his sixty years than most. He looks far older than he is, and I guess living the life he did has that effect on you.

After the guard leaves, my father motions toward the table that occupies the center of the room and we both sit.

The silence nearly kills me, but the sound of the metal chairs scraping the ground is what is practically my undoing.

“Erin,” my father says in the way of a greeting but it’s cold as I expected. “Didn’t expect to see you here, but obviously you need something from me or why else would you be here?”

I guess we’re just going to dive right in to the deep end, and I might as well go along with it. I don’t want to be here and the sooner it’s over the better.

“I need this to be over,” I say gesturing between him and me. “I left because I couldn’t be a part of your world and this nightmare is still following me.”

He nods but doesn’t respond immediately as if he’s thinking of what to say and then he responds harshly with, “It is over. Why do think I’m here?”

He’s being vague and he knows it. There’s more to all of this than he’s prepared to tell me and it pisses me off.

“Don’t you get it?” I practically scream and I quell the urge to shout in his face. “You’ve made me afraid of my past, afraid of my future. I’m nervous every fucking day of my life. I have someone who loves me and I can’t fucking love them back because…”

I swallow hard, choking back the tears because I will not cry in front of him.

“And it’s not over, goddamn it!” I add, now my voice rising to a yell. “I’m being followed, someone knows where I am and it’s going to ruin my life. This is on you!”

My father chuckles a little and runs a hand through his hair.

“On me?” he questions. “I’m out, Erin and I have been for years, but you wouldn’t know that because you left just like your mother.” He shrugs his shoulders and laughs again. He seems to be enjoying watching me try to piece it all together. “I let you go. If I wanted to find you I could’ve done it in a heartbeat and you know that. It’s not me you have to worry about,” he says calmly, but the way he says it makes my heart race.

“Anthony?” I ask, and a shudder rushes over me as I say his name, but my father shrugs his shoulders in response. I hate this game he’s playing. He’s fucking with me. “Why does your loyalty lie with him?” I ask, angry that my father won’t just tell me what the fuck is going on. But he owes me nothing and I know it.

“Why does your loyalty lie with that detective?” he quips back.

My mouth drops open and I nearly gasp for air. How the fuck does he know about Ryan?

And there it is again; that condescending laugh, because he knows he’s winning and I’m falling apart.

“Your boyfriend didn’t tell you he came to see me, huh?”

That’s all I need to hear before I’m buzzing the guard so I can end this fucking nightmare, but my father keeps talking.

“It’s not me you have to worry about, Erin and I told your boyfriend the same thing. You have no idea what you’re dealing with,” he says with a smirk on his face.

“Fuck you,” I spit out as the guard opens the door and I disappear behind it.

Chapter Fifteen

Ryan

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