Page 54 of Bound by Destiny
There are people in and out all the time, and the commotion usually works for me while I study, but not today.
My dad is still as handsome as ever. Looking up to him growing up in the club, I always knew he had faults, but one thing he always did was love me. There was never a time in my life when I didn’t feel his love. I just wish my brother felt that.
“Just thinkin’.”
He reaches out, pulls my hand away from the coffee mug, and clasps it in his. “You love him, right?”
It feels strange telling my father this before I tell Jacks, but I refuse to lie to him. “Yeah.”
He squeezes my hand. “Then you be his rock. The one person he can turn to if this shit goes bad. You stand by him and be his goal.”
“You sound like he’s going to be in there a long time.” Fear grips me. Him locked up for any period of time is bad enough; the way my father’s talking, it’s not going to be good. I fight back the panic.
Dad sighs deep, stretching his neck to each side. It’s one thing I’ve learned over the years that he does when he’s going to tell his kids something he doesn’t want to, only making my panic stretch.
“Brunzie is workin’ on it. We have some things in the works and hopin’ it helps. Just have faith that all will end well. You a blubbering mess isn’t helpin’ him and you know that.”
Breathing out so deep my lips wiggle, I stare at the man in front of me. Strong. Determined. Confident. Always sure of himself. It reminds me a lot of Jacks. Holy hell, did I just compare my boyfriend to my dad?
Shaking it from my thoughts, I say, “I am. Just wish we had more to go by.”
“We’ll do the best we can.”
I nod as he starts to stand up, but I stop him. “How are you and Deke getting along?” He freezes, just as expected. Every time what happened between him and Deke is brought up, he gets this reaction. It’s the only time that I see him falter in any way. It eats at him, and I want him to talk about it so he can move past it.
“Better.” He pauses and rubs his fingers over his chin. “I’ll never get back that time without him, Emery. That hurts like hell, but we are rebuilding and I can’t ask for anything better.”
“Daddy.”
He gets up, and I follow as he wraps his arms around me. “Love you, Em. Don’t worry about me. I’ve got this.”
“Never thought you didn’t,” I mumble into his shirt as he kisses the top of my head.
“Gotta head out and get to your mom.” He pulls away after giving me another squeeze. Feeling loved in life has never been an issue for me. I don’t know any other way.
“Bye.”
He leaves, and it’s me and everyone busy doing their own thing. I know Deke is down in the basement cleaning out the crawl space because he made sure to show me the mouse he found. Asshole. But that’s part of being a prospect. I hope he gets his cut soon.
The afternoon drags on with nothing from anyone about Jacks. Even the phone clutched in my hand hasn’t rung, giving me any new information.
Sitting on Jacks’ bed, the music fills the room as I try to get my head on straight with my studies. I have a huge Western Civ test in two weeks that’s over half my grade, and I need to nail it to get a decent grade in the class.
It’s a lot of stress, and my focus is showing signs of it.
A knock comes to the door. Hitting the remote to the music, I hop off the bed and move to the door just as the knocking comes again. Opening it, Micah stands on the other side. I keep my arm on the door blocking his path. No way is he coming in this room with me. I’d never disrespect Jacks like that.
“What’s up?” I ask when he just stares at me without words. I have on shorts and one of Jacks’ t-shirts so it’s not like I’m naked or something, but you couldn’t tell by his looks.
“Can we talk?” He nods into the room.
Shaking my head no, I take a step out of the room, checking my pocket for the key and locking it. “Not in there. We can go to the basement.”
He follows me down the stairs into the room where he first showed me what was hiding underneath all the anger for the club. It feels like so long ago now, and I’m not sure why because before I clutched on to it so damn tight.
We take a seat on the long couch. The room is surprisingly empty, sans the beer cans and video game controllers littering in front of the television. “Are you going to talk?” The staring at me thing needs to stop. I’ve got way too much on my plate to be dealing with something I already put a squash on.
“Sorry to hear about Jacks.” I study him and look for any signs he’s being condescending toward me or Jacks, and it’s not there.
