Cash
I stepped into the hallway to find my father staring at the bathroom door. He glanced my way and his face suddenly flashed bright red. “My office. Now,” he ordered, turning on his heel.
I frowned, following him inside and closing the door. “What goin’ on?”
“What thehelldid you do to Teagan?”
“What do you mean, what did I do to Teagan?”
“Don’t you fuckin’ play dumb with me, son.” He settled his fists on his desk. “You know exactly what I’m talkin’ about. That little girl came flying out of that bunk room in tears and you come out a few minutes later lookin’ like… well, lookin’ like you. What the fuck did you do to her?”
“Teagan was crying?”
“You need to worry less abouthertears and more aboutyourmouth telling me what the fuck’s goin’ on.”
I gripped the back of one of his chairs so hard, my knuckles whitened. “I’ve fucked everything up, Dad, that’s what I’ve done.”
“Take a seat, bud,” he said, and moved out from behind his desk, pulling a chair up so he was facing me. “What’s goin’ on?”
I sat down, settling my elbows on my knees and dropping my face in my hands. “I’m in love with her.”
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”
“That about sums it up.”
“And she doesn’t feel the same way?”
“No, she does,” I said. “But because I’m me, I keep fuckin’ things up between us.”
“When did all this start?”
“Officially, three months ago.”
“Fuck me, you’ve kept this under wraps for three months?”
I nodded. “Until Hatch figured it out last week. He wants me to talk to Mack.”
“How far has this gone, Cash?”
I stared at the floor.
“Cash?”
I sat up and met his eyes. “As far as it can go.”
“Jesus, fuck.” Dad shot out of his seat. “Mack is going to kill you. Did you think about that?”
“Yeah, Dad, I thought about that. I also thought about Chelsea and how it’s my fault she’s dead, and Eric and howI ruined his life, and I tried, Dad, I fuckin’ tried to keep my distance from Teagan, but she was havin’ none of it.”
“So, you’re blamin’ her?”
“No, that’s not what I mean.” I groaned. “Fuck!”
“Take a breath.”
I palmed my eye sockets and took a deep breath.
“First,” Dad said. “Chelsea wasn’t your fault.”
