Page 7 of Tempt Me (Dark Odyssey 4)

I’m not leaving this time. He’s begging me to go, but he needs me. What I need to do is get him off the drugs and take care of him the way he took care of me when I needed him.

“Dad, please. Listen, let’s go back to the clinic. Dr. Cooper said we can come anytime you need him. Let’s just go.” It’s eight now. After his last stint in rehab, the doctors were certain Dad would be back.

I tried to be positive, but I knew they were right. That was close to eight months ago. He looked like he was doing okay, but there were signs that he wasn’t.

“Come, Dad, let’s go. You and me. We can do this. We can, right?”

“No, Ava, I can’t go to the clinic. He’ll kill me. You too if he finds you, and I can’t let that happen.” His voice shakes, and tears roll down his cheeks.

My heart stills and fright sweeps through me. I don’t know what he’s talking about. Orwhohe’s talking about. I wish I could blame the drugs and believe he’s talking like that because he’s high. The terrified look in his eyes tells me different though, as well as the cold pulsing knot that’s formed in my stomach.

He’s serious.

What has he gotten himself into this time?

“What’s going on, Dad? Who are you talking about?”

He shakes his head and moves away from me, back to packing his duffel bag on the table.

I reach for his arm and wince when I feel how frail he is. This is a man who was built of solid muscle at one point. Tall like a giant and as strong as an ox. That’s what Mom used to say.

He looks to me and shakes his head. “Please, Ava, leave me before it’s too late. Go now.”

“What have you done? Why would someone want to kill you?” My voice shakes, and tears sting the backs of my eyes. “What did you do?”

“Something terrible. Terrible things that I can’t get out of. I did bad things. Gambling and shit… I borrowed some money. I can’t pay it back. I …can’t pay it back, Ava. It’s too much,” he sputters, tripping over his words as he tries to get them out. “It’s only a matter of time before he finds me. I can’t keep running. I’m too tired and too weak. Too drained.” He chokes back a cry and starts panting.

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. My mind races along a thousand miles per hour thinking of what to do.

He saidpay back. If this is about money, I’ll pay it back.

I don’t have much. I’m still paying back the last loan he got, and that drained me.

“I’ll pay it back, Dad,” I offer.

“You can’t… sweet girl. Not this time.”

“How much is it?”

He starts crying harder and is shaking. I know then that it’s more than the ten grand he got last time to pay his rent arrears. He borrowed that from some bookies, and I paid to keep us out of trouble. Who does he owe this time?

I feel worse when he brings his hand to his head and breaks down.

How did I not see this coming? I visit him three times a week. It was just that he seemed to be doing okay. He works as an accountant and is always busy. I thought that meant he was busy at work.

I would be an idiot if I didn’t know it was the anniversary of Sasha’s death that triggered him.

It’s been six years now, but the pain is the same. We went to the cemetery, and I remember he looked from me to the grave and said, “I wish I could have saved him.”

I couldn’t have felt worse because he was so busy saving me, he didn’t see that his own son was in trouble.

The last two months, things were neither here nor there. I sensed Dad was going through his own trouble and I didn’t listen to those gut instincts.

I’m too late again.

God… I can’t do this. I can’t walk down memory lane and the path of guilt. Not tonight. First things first. I need to get him back to the rehab center, then we’ll talk about the money later. I’ll ask Freddie for an advance or get a loan. I’ll do something.

“Dad, let’s go to the clinic and sort this out tomorrow.”

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