Page 28 of The Moments You Were Mine
Dad’s face all but bled compassion. I couldn’t take it. I got up and paced the room.
“What the hell do I know about taking care of a kid? He left me in charge of everything. That goddamn fortune he inherited from his parents is in some sort of trust for Theo, but I’m in charge of it too. I know as much about managing money as I do raising a kid!” I shoved my fist into the wall, leaving a hole I’d have to replaster, but it had felt good. I needed more of that release. I needed hours at a punching bag. I needed a workout that would run my body to the ground until I couldn’t think. “I didn’t want this kind of life. Kids. Responsibilities waiting at home for me. He knew it. So what the fuck was he thinking?”
“He was thinking you were the most honorable person in his life, and he was right.”
Tears pricked. I shut my eyes, trying to hold them back.
“If Althea was alive and Will was dead, he would’ve needed someone who’d look after his son and the money. Someone who’d fight her tooth and nail to make sure she didn’t get her hands on it and dish it out like candy to her drug-dealing family. He needed a person who knew how to protect and serve. And that’s you, Park. Hate it. Rail against it. But he knew exactly what he was doing.”
My chest was so tight I thought it might explode.
Dad stood up. “So, let’s go.”
“What?” I managed to grunt out.
“Let’s go get my grandson. You want him spending even one more night in some shelter? Some place where he’s one of a hundred? Or do you want to make sure he’s getting the love and attention he deserves? That he hears from you, someone who cares about him, that his daddy isn’t coming home any more than his mama.”
The tears broke, streaming down my cheeks. I waved my hands. A helpless gesture. “I don’t know what to do, Dad. I don’t know what to say to him. How can I make any of this right?”
“You can’t make it right. You can’t fix it. But you can help him get by each day. And I think he’ll help you do the same.”
I shook my head. I’d failed at so little in my life. I thought failure wasn’t an option. I worked until every stop on my journey was a success. I’d only ever failed one person. But this…raising someone else’s kid…
Dad grabbed my shoulder and shoved me toward the door. “Let’s go, Squid. Get your shit together. Buck up. Pick up the damn boat, get your feet under you, and walk to shore.”
The scathing taunt we tossed at newbies did exactly what Dad had intended—it grounded me. It brought me back to my new mission. So, I grabbed my keys and the letter from Will with his attorney’s contact information, shoved my phone into my pocket, and followed my dad outside.
This was my new assignment. An assignment that had a start and an end date. Dad was right. I’d figure it out, just as I had all the other challenges tossed my way. I was the problem solver on the team. I was the one who saw all the angles, all the potential traps and triggers, and led us around them. I’d do the same here. I’d take a step back, remove myself from the emotions threatening to drown me, and put a plan in place to keep both Theo and me afloat.
Chapter Nine
Fallon
THE SMALLEST MAN WHO EVER LIVED
Performed by Taylor Swift
SEVEN YEARS AGO
HER: My sister is the cutest baby in the world. I’ve decided I want one. A baby. Not now, of course, but in some far-off future. I have to find a guy to put a ring on my finger first. Not because of tradition or anything, but so my kid never has to wonder if I wanted them or if I gave up my dreams because I got pregnant. I want my baby to know only the pure love my siblings have.
HIM: Whether someone has a ring on their finger or not, having kids changes people. Like it or not, love always comes with obligations you can’t ignore. It’s one of the many reasons I don’t want a serious relationship.
PRESENT DAY
I woke to hushed voices, andfor a disorienting moment, I didn’t know where I was. But once I registered the unforgiving steel below my arms and the hard plastic pressing into my back, it all came back to me.
Graduation.
The detectives.
Being holed up in an interrogation room at the police station.
Panic jerked me upright. How had I fallen asleep? My palms turned sweaty, just as they had multiple times since the officers had arrived at the apartment last night. I glanced around the coldspace. Not much had changed since I’d been brought in—a camera still whirred in the corner, and mirrored glass faced me—but now, the door stood propped open. The detectives were right outside the cement-block room, discussing something in quiet, heated voices.
I looked at the seat beside me, surprised and nervous to find it empty.
I wasn’t sure if it had been shock or panic that had kept my mouth closed when the detectives had first thrown ugly accusations at me. I’d been stunned to find out Dr. Walters had called them about missing drugs—even more stunned to know drugs had disappeared from the clinic more than once this year.
