Page 154 of Headstrong Like Us
I turn to Ryke. “Help what?” I ask again.
Ryke winces. “Look, Mof. You drank for the first time, and that has to be a big fucking deal for you.”
That.
Fuck.
My shoulders strain, muscles tight. So I told all my family what happened at the bachelor party, or at least, I told Janie. She took it hard and blamed herself for supplying the drinks, but I explained that it’s no one’s fault.
Let’s just chalk it up to the Hale Curse and move forward.
We hugged, and I asked her to spread the news through the family gossip network. She said she had me covered. It worked like a charm.
Didn’t have to confront anyone about it. Thought I could skid on by.
Now here I am.
“No,” I say to them and then grimace. “I mean, yeah, it is a big fucking deal. Butno, I don’t need to talk to a therapist.” I dunk a teabag in a mug, hoping everyone will let this conversation die.
My dad frowns. “There’s nothing wrong with talking it out with someone—”
“I got that,” I say into a nod. “I just don’t need professional assistance on this. I have Farrow, you know.”
My dad pauses, and I think he might tell me Farrow’s not good enough. But then he says, “I’m happy you have him.”
That drives through me, not in a great way. I hear my dad’s voice, saying that since I have Farrow I don’t need him. Giving himself an out to drink.
I want to help him.
I just don’t know how anymore.
34
FARROW KEENE
Radio clippedto my slacks and wire rounding up my neck, comms chatter fills my ears even though I’m technically off-duty. Did I mention how much I love Kitsuwon Securities?
Back at Triple Shield, the Alpha lead would’ve taken my radio upon departure. Now I don’t have to guess what the hell is happening in security or grovel to Thatcher for details.
As of now, the families are eating breakfast, so there’s not a lot of movement outside unsecure locations.
After clothing Ripley in shorts and a graphic tee of a surfing dog and embroidered lettering that readsbeach boy(he looks cool as shit), I balance my baby on my hip.
Maximoff is already in the main villa’s courtyard.
I’m getting a later start than Maximoff since I ran into my stepmom this morning. I was stuck in a thirty-minute one-sided chat, where she professed how much my old man wishes he could be here.
It is what it is.
Which is nothing.
I slow down for a second and watch Ripley inspect his hands, smacking his palms playfully together. Hands that I’m sure my dad would see and think,they’re meant to heal people one day.
Shit, I don’t want to be like him. I can’t be like him when it comes to my son. My father has taught me a lot in my life, I’ll give him that.
He’s taught me about medicine. About how best to care for people.
But his greatest lesson was one he never saw coming.
