“I have plans I can’t change,” I told him, anticipating the guilt trip that was about to be unloaded on me.
And not really caring.
Because I was happy.
It had been a long time since I had felt anything like contentment in my personal life. I had been convinced I didn’t deserve it. That it wasn’t fair for me to be happy when Dillon wasn’t alive. It felt like a betrayal.
I knew it was stupid to think that way. Dillon would never want me to self-flagellate to the point of martyrdom. But my parents had done a damn good job of reinforcing my misery.
My job and random hookups had been my only way out.
Now there was Hannah.
And things were suddenly very, very different.
She had bought us tickets to a musical. She called me every single day. She showed up at my apartment in the evening with takeout and a movie.
We had entered into an intimacy I hadn’t expected but found I was enjoying.
She’s almost too perfect.
The voice of uncertainty hadn’t gone away. In fact, it had grown louder the closer Hannah and I became.
Part of me thought I should be listening to my instincts. The voice was yelling at me for a reason. I had been trained to pay attention when it spoke.
But it was that voice that had insisted I follow a lead instead of keeping a promise to my dying brother.
It had been that voice that had left me alone and hardened for most of my adult life.
I hadn’t realized I had lost trust in the voice until it made me question Hannah.
She had come along at a time when I was just starting to become aware of how truly lonely I was.
I had tried to fill the void with Madison and it hadn’t been right.
Hannah was right.
Is she?
Yes,I convinced myself.
“Plans that are more important than seeing your mother? She just got out of the hospital! She’s in a very precarious state right now, Mason. You owe it to her to be here. When you moved away, you broke what was left of her.” Dad’s voice shook and I sighed.
“Dad, it’s my job. I can’t very well tell the agent in charge I can’t relocate because of my mother.”
“That job is why you weren’t there for Dillon either. Don’t you forget that,” my father snapped, attempting to plunge the knife in deep.
I should never have attempted to unburden myself of guilt by telling my father about my last conversation with Dillon before he died. Because he used it to hurt me whenever possible.
“I can’t come this weekend, Dad. I’m sorry,” I said, not rising to the bait, his barb deflecting, not hitting its intended mark. For once his words didn’t bruise.
I was flying high. Not just because of Hannah but because of work too.
Things were lining up so damn perfectly.
Two days ago I had gotten my first break in the Freedom Overdrive case.
I knew it was only a matter of time until I cracked it completely.
