Page 61 of The Jester and His Outlaw: Part 2

My stomach twists at the memory of my past, of the isolated life I survived with my parents, and I grip my latte tighter. I won’t let my mind go there. Not right now. At least I survived, unlike his niece.

“Why didn’t you get her away from them?” It’s unnerving to see someone like Mr. Tucker, a man who is typically so unflappable, flinch at my tone. I didn’t mean for it to be harsh, however, no matter how you say something like that, it’s going to seem jarring.

“Him. Away from him. My sister would never put a hand on a child,” he growls, bristling.

“Right, I’m sorry.” I sip my latte to have anything to do to help deal with this uncomfortable conversation. I want to blurt out all of my questions and end it, but he needs the time to get it all out.

“I tried. I called the police, child services, everyone I could think of to get them to run checks on them. Whenever they completed a visit, they deemed them fine. I’m not sure if you’re aware of the system, but they tell the families they are coming. It’s never a surprise visit. So they clean up, hide bruises, come up with excuses and explanations. It’s difficult to prove. I could have taken my sister and my niece, but I didn’t need charges of kidnapping. I made my presence known, offered to take my niece if she didn’t want to get out, but Jennifer wasn’t having it. Said she was content with him. She was eight months pregnant.”

Reliving all this must exhaust him, because he backs himself up and pulls out a chair from the dining table. He sits, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee. Blue and white socks peek out from the bottom of his trousers.

How the hell is he already so put together this early in the morning? I’ve known the man to keep some crazy hours, but this is a little much.

“Someone found Emma dead two days later. Jennifer was dying in the hospital. That scum husband of hers disappeared. I still don’t know where he is. If I ever find him…” I flinch at the word scum, gritting my teeth. I doubt he knows what Jonas put on my locker and if I asked him, he would remind me I’m not scum, that I’m good enough to date a Miller. One good thing about Mr. Tucker, he has never truly judged my background or where I live. I never got that vibe from him, even if I couldn’t ever figure out why he would want to take me from Gramma.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Tucker. But I still don’t get why you fought so hard to keep me from Gramma, to get me to come live with you. You felt I was the kid you couldn’t save?”

The sigh he lets out is heavy and, for the first time, Mr. Tucker looks vulnerable, remorse flashing in his eyes. The billionaire tech mogul let his guard down. “I’m sorry, Riggs. I know you think I tried to take you from your grandmother, but I only wanted better for you. You would have always known her, because I would have made sure.”

I believe him when he says that. It sure didn’t feel like that when Gramma would come home mad as fire about what she went through each day. She fought hard as hell to keep me and won. I wouldn’t change a thing about my time with her other than begging for more of it.

“Why didn’t you ever just tell me where you were coming from?”

“Would it have changed your mind?” I shake my head, knowing damn well it wouldn’t have. I probably would have thought he was just feeding me some bullshit to get me to come live with him so he could ease his guilt.

“No, not likely,” I admit.

“Therefore, I didn’t tell you.”

“So, what, having me here would make up for not being able to save your niece, your sister, or the baby?”

“That’s exactly what I thought,” he says without hesitation and it shocks me. “And I’m sorry I put that pressure on you. I’m sorry I made it hard for you and your grandmother. That was never my intention. I just wanted… I just wanted to help. That’s all.” There is more to that statement, more revelations swirling in his eyes, but I don’t push. If he wants to tell me, he will.

But I also feel some of the bitterness I’ve harbored for him falling away, dripping on the floor and flowing down a drain. He was just a good man trying to help, even if he didn’t go about it in the right way. These are parts of him I’ve never known, never wanted to, and always refused to let myself see. He didn’t deserve for me to see him like this after pushing so hard to have Gramma deemed unfit.

But, second chances are a thing. I’ve had plenty, so it’s time to give him his. I could use more help in my life and he’s been offering for a long time.

“Thank you for telling me this and for apologizing.” His head dips in a nod of acknowledgment and I’m guessing he’s about to lock himself back up. “What ever happened to the baby?”

This makes him pale, and he shifts in his seat before he realizes he’s doing it. He bottles his emotions back up. “The hospital did everything they could, but he eventually succumbed to the stress of his situation. He died a week after my sister. I couldn’t save any of them.”

Jesus, this is a grim story. This is heavy shit. It’s not because of me, but tension is radiating throughout the room.

Jensen silently enters and drops a hand to his dad’s shoulder. They’ve always had a volatile relationship, but it’s clear Jensen had no clue about any of this and is seeing his dad in a different light.

“So what happens now?” I can’t help but feel like I missed out on something that could have been great. I’m not wanting to change anything, but maybe it won’t be so bad not to hate Mr. Tucker. The man actually has a heart.

He stays silent, seriously considering how he plans to answer my question.

“Well, it might be too much to ask of you, but I’d like to get to know you better. That’s all I really have ever wanted. Other than that, nothing has to change unless you want it to. You have school and work. I hear Jensen is hiring you to do some design work. You’re welcome to move in here if you’d like or take one of my apartments—”

“I won’t live off you for free,” I cut him off. His explanation is nice and eye opening, but I’m still me and not interested in mooching off other people. We have a long way to go before I‘ll ever trust him fully. My brain still remembers the fear of being ripped away from Gramma. Knowing the way she felt, thinking she was going to lose me because she wasn’t good enough or didn’t have the money, ruins me every time it triggers the memories.

“I would expect nothing less of you, Riggs. Your hard work and dedication are something I admire. You’re going to do well as a designer. But please, let me help provide for you. I tried sending your grandmother money over the years to help. She wouldn’t take it. Kept sending my checks back. So I set up an account for you. Plus, you have a trust coming from my parents that you cannot access until you turn twenty-five. They were extremely supportive of you coming to live with us. Wanted you as one of their own.”

“I don’t need their money or yours,” I counter immediately, because I don’t. I don’t want their money and I understand why Gramma didn’t take his, though a small part of me wishes she did so she could have more. He likely gave us an assload, way more than we needed, but it wouldn’t have hurt to use just a little of it to better her life. I respect her decisions. Like I said before, I’m better off for it.

It’s a lesson in self-worth that Gramma left me with. I’m thankful for that.

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