Holy shit.
My blood runs cold at the sight of him. Both eyes are black and blue, one of them swollen shut. His neck has a red ring around it, like someone’s grip is still throttling him. His nose is slanted unnaturally. Hell, he looks worse than the new guy did after our match.
I clench and unclench my fists at my sides, working hard to keep a neutral façade even as my eyes burn seeing him like this.
He clears his throat, but it turns into a cough, and he winces. “Hunt. Can I ... can I come in?”
I grind my jaw but step aside to let him pass. The sofa bed creaks behind me as he sits. I draw a long, calming inhale, then shut the door and face him.
His hands are clasped, eyes on the floor.
“What are you still doing in Texas?” I mumble. “Figured you’d be thousands of miles away by now.”
“Yeah, well ... I, uh”—he pushes out a breath—“I couldn’t exactly afford a flight back, and I lost my car as collateral a while ago, so ...”
I lift an eyebrow, but really, I want to fucking scream. Or punch a hole through the wall. He’s been in Texas this whole time?
“What happened to your face?” I ask, wishing I didn’t care.
As bad as I’ve witnessed shit get with my dad, I’ve never seen him like this. He’s too smooth, too good of a bullshitter, to let things get so out of hand. At least, he used to be.
He shrugs but quickly grimaces as if even that small movement hurt. “I told you, I owe money.”
“You’ve owed before, and you’ve never wound up like this.”
“Just because I’ve never shown up looking like this doesn’t mean it hasn’t happened before.” He laughs—a dry, lifeless sound. “Although, I’ll admit owing someone in the escort business is a bit rougher than what I’m used to.”
I rake my fingers through my hair. “Why’d you come here, Conway?”
His eyes shoot to mine. “You can’t keep carrying on with thisConwaybusiness, Hunt.” Another wince twists his face, and he leans forward, clutching his side. “I’m still your father.”
My chest darkens as the bitterness spreads. I wish it didn’t come with a sting.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
His lips thin, but he drops it. With the silence simmering, he looks around, taking his time scanning my place. As if he’s a damn guest, welcome to stay as long as he wants.
He nods toward the side table by my door. “I’m assuming my parting gift came in handy. Are things serious with her? That pretty little blonde?”
An unexpected burst of fire rushes through my veins, boiling and explosive. No way in hell am I talking about Blue with him, letting him diminish what’s between us.
“Nah, I’ve been trying out some hookers. Thanks for the fatherly inspiration.”
He watches me carefully for a moment before shaking his head. “You don’t have it in you.”
“What kinda backward-ass comment is that?”
“I meant it as a compliment, son. I may have passed down some bad parts of me, but you’ve got the good in spades. Gotta give me a little credit for that.”
I grunt a harsh laugh. “Yeah, where the hell are my manners? I should be thanking you.” My jaw tightens while I fight the wave of emotions beating on my chest. “Nothing like checking the mirror every morning, wondering when it’s gonna be someone else looking back at me. Spending every single day doing whatever it takes to avoid turning into you or Pop.”
“Listen to me, Hunt.” He starts to stand but halts, grimacing. “I know how bad I’ve messed up, all right? I’m not blind to the damage I’ve done, showing you patterns and habits no boy should grow up seeing. Probably confusing the heck out of you. And your mom, the way I treated her—”
“Don’t.” Flames lick at my throat, a spasm running through my fist because it’s clenched so tight. “Don’t talk about her.”
He drops his gaze, wiping his palms on his slacks. “Fair enough.”
“We done with the reunion? Or are you trying the therapy angle now?” I grit as I stalk to the kitchen, filling up a glass from the tap just so I don’t have to look at him another second.
