Page 43 of Second Dance
I was Bella’s father. Not him. Tomorrow, I’d show her what I found. Then she’d understand she was already where she belonged.
With me. And Peter.
After a restless night of sleep, I woke determined to show Bella the truth. I had to nip this in the bud. Which meant I had to confront her about searching for him. She was already in the kitchen, eating a bowl of cereal, so I brought the laptop with me.
“I need to talk to you,” I said.
She looked up, eyes cold and with that sullen expression that made me want to ground her for life. “What? I’m leaving for the beach in a few minutes.”
“This won’t take long,” I said, keeping my tone even. “I know you’ve been searching for your biological father.”
“How do you know that? Oh my God, Peter told you, didn’t he?”
“It doesn’t matter how I know. And, honey. I understand why you’re curious about him and that you’re feeling abandoned by me right now but, before you go any further, you need to see the truth of who he really is.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What truth?”
I brought the laptop to her, pulling up Darren Slater’s mugshot and the police blotter beneath it: Public intoxication. Resisting arrest. Reno, Nevada.
For several pounding heartbeats, she just stared. Then her chin lifted. “So what? That doesn’t mean anything. People screw up. Maybe he was going through something.”
“No. This is a pattern. Your mom told me all about him.”
“You went digging for the worst things you could find so I’d hate him. That’s not fair. You’re such a manipulator.” Her voice sharpened. “You don’t know him. You just know what Mom told you about him.”
“I know enough to know I don’t want you anywhere near him.” My voice broke sharper than I intended. “This is not an argument, Bella. You will not contact him under any circumstances.”
Her eyes flashed. “You don’t get to decide that! You’re not even my real dad.”
The words cut through me. I had to lean against the island to keep from collapsing. “That’s not true. I’ve raised you. I loved you from the moment I met you. I’m your father.”
“You’re just some rich dude my mom married. She probably just agreed to go out with you because you had money and she knew she had to take care of us. Why else would she choose a total nerd?”
“I didn’t have money when we first met.” My chest hurt so much that I could barely speak. “Not much anyway.”
“Stop trying to control my life. I’m nearly grown. I should get to decide if I want to see my father.”
I exploded then, angrier than I’d been in ages and ages. “I am your father, little one. And you will show me respect. Up to your room. Now. A beach day is not happening.”
“No. I’m going to the beach with my friends.”
She leapt from the stool, but I caught her arm, keeping her from running with a gentle but firm grip. “You’re grounded, Bella. Now go up to your room.”
Before I knew what was happening, she yanked her arm away, then shoved my chest with both hands, causing me to stumble backward. Crying, her voice full of rage, she said, “I hate you. Do you hear me? I hate you.”
“I’m not the one you should hate. He’s the one who denied he was even your father.”
Every flush of color drained from her face. “You’re a liar. Mom and you kept me from him. This is all because of you.”
Sobbing, she rushed from the kitchen and ran back upstairs. And yet another slammed door rattled the house. The house I’d prayed would be a place of healing. Instead, it appeared to be the opposite.
As I stood there, reeling, feeling sick to my stomach, Sonya arrived. I must have really looked bad because she dropped her bag and came rushing over to me.
“Señor Alex, please come and sit. Are you ill? I’ve never seen you so pale.”
Like a docile lamb, I let her lead me over to the table, sinking into one of the chairs. I dropped my face into my hands.
“Is it Bella?” Sonya asked.
