Not scary in a fearful sense. Scary in a way he might have an ounce of his father in him.
When he saw Ruby again, he wanted to do it with a light heart, with his intentions clear.
To do that, he needed to confront Denver first.
Jax sat on a cold plastic chair, his gaze fixed on the metal door behind the perspex separating the prisoners from the public. He wanted to see his father's expression the moment he set sight on him for the first time in ten years, for no other reason than to see if Denver recognised the son he never contacted.
Apparently, Denver had been in constant contact with the media—but never him.
It irked as much as being here.
How many times had he faced jibes and taunts from so-called mates about his jailbird dad? How many job interviews had been politely terminated once they learned of his father's talent for embezzling? How many times had he stormed around his apartment, impotent with rage, that for every inroad he made in the corporate world he had his limited success ripped away by the simple fact he was Denver Maroney's son?
Countless, humiliating burrs that stuck, spurring him on to greater heights in Western Australia.
Now he’d returned to Melbourne to stay, if Ruby would have him. And that meant ensuring his dad's tarnished reputation couldn't touch him again.
The door opened and Jax’s fingers curled into fists as his father entered the room behind the perspex, shoulders back, head held high, gaze challenging and cocky. If it weren't for the shackles binding his wrists, Jax could've sworn his dad hadn't aged a day.
Denver sat opposite and picked up the phone they needed to communicate with. Jax did the same, waiting for a word, one word that his dad cared for anybody but himself.
An apology? The least Denver could do.
An explanation? Damn right.
"Well, well, the prodigal son returns."
Struck dumb with disbelief, Jax shook his head.
After all this time, his dad greeted him with a cliche?
"Took you long enough to visit." Denver smirked. "Or is this because I'm getting out soon and you want to get in good with the old man again?"
Jax couldn't think of one person in this world he totally despised but in that moment, he came close.
Acid churned in his gut and he waited for the cramping to subside before speaking.
"Why?"
One word asking a myriad questions.
Why did you steal that money?
Why did you use Jackie?
Why did you screw over your friends?
Why did you ignore your son who stood by you through everything: thetrial, the sentencing, the first day in jail?
So many questions, but Jax’s chances of answers ranked up there with getting an apology from his dad: a big fat zero.
Denver frowned, his smug smile gone. "Why what?"
Needing to make this one question count, Jax gripped the phone tight and leaned forward until his nose almost touched the perspex.
"Why did you burn the one person who remained by your side through everything?" His vocal cords seized with long-festering bitterness and he cleared his throat. "I stood by you, Dad, and once you were in here I ceased to exist for you."
He jabbed a finger in Denver’s direction, wishing he could thump the perspex with his fist. "I want to know why," he said into the phone. "It's the least you owe me."
