I inhale a deep breath even though the air that’s circling us is thick and strained. It pushes into my lungs and does nothing to scatter my nerves. My foot bounces underneath the table, my knee brushing the bottom of it with each lift and fall.
I glance over at Stewart. I’m not about to incriminate myself in front of him. Nor will I risk him eavesdropping and running with the information since he clearly can’t be trusted. “Mind bailing for a few minutes?”
He lifts his palms to me and glances around at everyone. “As long as everyone promises to keep their hands to themselves.” He rises from his seat when he seems confident that no blood will be spilled then slips out of the room.
“Mom was buying drugs from the Lincolns,” I concede, feeling as if there’s this negative energy hovering over my shoulder from my dumb ass choice to help her in all the wrong ways. “I don’t know the details behind the transactions, but she ended up not following through and owing them a bunch of money.”
Aunt Bess’s eyes cut to Finn and Clyde before sliding back to me. “You were paying for your mom’s drugs?” She balks at the idea. Like she has a hard time believing it’s true.
I scratch the back of my neck. “I mean, she already had them because of some deal she made with them, but then she did who the hell knows what with them. I guess in so many words, yeah, you could say that, depending on how you look at it.”
She blinks in quick succession, as if she’s having a hard time understanding what’s happening.
Join the club.
“When she didn’t have the money or she’d go back on her promises to them, they’d come knocking for what she didn’t have. What was I supposed to do? Let her fend for herself?” I ignore the fact the Lincolns are next to me. “They would’ve held true to their threats. I didn’t want that to happen.”
“How much money have you given them?” Aunt Bess asks as if the devil isn’t sitting at the table with us.
Clyde chuckles, and I only now realize how much of a good mood he’s in. All the times I’ve seen him with Finn, he was the complete opposite.
Sinister.
Mean.
Out for blood.
His cruel laugh slices through me.
“How much, Colson?” Aunt Bess prods.
“It was…it was a lot. At least ten grand.” I don’t tell her that amount only includes this last time.
“Why didn’t you come to me?”
I give her a look. Like,really?
There was no way I wanted deeper ties to the Lincolns. Or to get more people involved.
“It was easier to deal with it on my own than pull anyone else into her mess.”
Her gaze drops. Confusion coats her feminine features and then a wave of guilt hits me so hard, I would be down on my knees if I weren’t already sitting.
This could have been avoided. Mom’s dealings with the Lincolns. The fact that I’m Clyde’s son—Jesus, I still can’t believe it. And one he never wanted at that. For years, I wondered what it’d be like to have a dad. Hell, I even went as far as thinking that he could’ve been better than Mom. That a childhood with him wouldn’t have been as fucked up as life with her.
How wrong I was.
There’s no way in hell Finn had it better than me.
Sure, Clyde isn’t an addict, but he’s bad in every other possible way.
My chest seizes from the very real fact that my father—a deadbeat—is two seats away. After all this time, I finally know who he is. He’s no longer a figment of my imagination, but aliving, breathing human. And not at all the person I expected him to be.
ClydefuckingLincoln.
A man I despise.
One of two men I’ll never give the benefit of the doubt.
