He expected Denver to walk away. His dad was good at that.
Instead, the arrogance in his father’s eyes dimmed, replaced by glassy resignation. Only then did Jax notice the changes time had wrought: the wrinkles creasing his dad’s neck, the lines fanning out from his mouth and eyes, and what looked like a permanent groove between his brows. Denver had done more frowning than smiling in jail.
To his dad's credit he didn't walk away. Or look away. He eyeballed Jaxwith a perturbing mix of affection and regret.
Static crackled down the phone, the silence unnerving. Jax had been a fool to come here. If his father hadn't contacted him in ten years, no way in hell he'd get answers now.
He moved to hang up the phone when Denver's lips finally moved.
"You were going places, and the only place I was going was here. I didn't want you tainted by what I'd done."
Jax released the breath he'd been holding. "That's bullshit. If you'd really felt like that, you wouldn't have done half the things you did anyway."
Jax shook his head, ten years' worth of resentment threatening to spew forth. "You used Mum just like you used your friends, and you sure as hell didn't give a shit about me. You did what you wanted to do and screw everyone else."
Denver didn't look away and a small part of Jax admired him for it.
"That's the thing about jail. Not much on offer in the way of recreation, gives a man a lot of time to think." Denver rubbed his chin. "I've been doing a lot of thinking over the years, Son, and there's nothing I can say or do to change the past. I did bad things. I hurt a lot of people, including the ones I loved. Am I sorry? Hell, yeah. Do I have regrets? I live with them every day. Do I wish my life was different? You bet."
Denver paused. "I wanted to reach out to you every day for the last ten years but I couldn't. It wouldn't be fair. Not after all you'd done for me."
Jax couldn't speak if he wanted to. Words clogged his throat: words of recrimination, words of disbelief.
His dad had always been a master at spinning a yarn; that much hadn't changed.
"The first six months in here were dire. I'm ashamed to say I didn't think life was worth living and I tried to make that happen. I failed, just like I'd failed at everything my whole life.”Denver shook his head. “Then your mother came to visit, said you'd inherited the mine, how my incarceration had affected your business opportunities in Melbourne and I made my decision."
He made a slicing action across his neck. "To sever all ties with you, for your own good. I'd dragged you down enough. You didn't need me and I didn't need you."
Denver clamped his lips shut as if he'd said too much before shaking his head.
"Dad—"
"But I lied about that too. Because I needed you. I've always needed you, Son. You're the one good thing in my life."
Jax ignored the surge of hope slashing through the years of built-up antipathy. Denver had always been glib, his gift of the gab legendary. This had to be a spin, more of the same.
"What about Mum?"
Regret shadowed Denver's eyes. "I told her to run and never look back. I'd wrecked her life enough. She deserved better than me."
Stunned at Denver's revelations, he stared at his dad demonstrating true emotion, something he didn't think him capable of.
If the old man could do it, why couldn't he? He'd spent too many years suppressing emotion, feeding his bitterness when in reality he'd been imprisoned by his own demons just like his dad.
His love for Ruby was real, an emotion that ran deep and pure and true.
Ironic, he'd been afraid of being like his dad, an emotional cripple devoid of truly connecting with anyone bar his narcissistic self. But hearing his dad's confession, realising Denver cared—enough to sacrifice contact that would'vesustained him through the term of his incarceration-showed him the Maroney men were capable of feeling after all.
"Why did you come here, Jax?"
He pondered his answer carefully, not quite ready to forgive the sins of the past just yet.
"Ten years is a long time, Dad. Times change. Hopefully people can too."
Wise to his implication, Denver nodded. "I have no idea when the appeal is or the probable outcome, but know this. When I get out, I'm starting afresh, and hoping to make amends."
A start. As long as Denver's fresh start didn't include dragging his name through hell again. Last thing Jax needed when he was finally on top was his dad's reputation ruining all he'd achieved.
