“Get. Out.”
Grant looks at me then. His eyes are red. Tired. “Jax—”
I don’t say anything as I stare at him. His shoulders are slumped. He shakes his head at me. “It’s not what you think––”
“Don’t tell my son lies!” my mom snaps, standing in front of me.
I watch over her shoulder as he nods and walks out the front door.
My mom walks to the front window and watches him get in his car. Then she wipes her face and straightens her shoulders.
“We’re following him,” she says.
“Mom—” I try to argue.
“Get in the car right fucking now, Jax.”
I sprint out to the car right after her. I climb into the passenger seat, and she gets behind the wheel.
And then she starts driving like a maniac.
We follow him.
“Mom, what are we doing?”
She doesn’t answer. She just keeps her eyes on Grant’s car three vehicles ahead.
“Mom?”
“He’s a liar.” Her voice is flat. Emotionless. “And I want to see it. I want to see her.” She turns to me. “He has a daughter, Jax.She’s your age, and not once did he mention her. You’ll never understand how it feels, Jax. He’s a fucking liar!”
We follow him for twenty minutes, through neighborhoods I don’t recognize and past strip malls and gas stations.
Then he pulls into a parking lot of a… bar? I think it’s a bar.
My mom parks across the street and turns off the headlights.
“Are we just going to sit here?” I ask.
“We’re just going to sit here,” she says flatly.
Grant gets out of his car and walks into the bar. My mom’s hands are white-knuckled on the steering wheel.
A minute passes. Two.
Then Grant walks back out.
But he’s not alone.
There’s a woman with him. She’s beautiful. Dark hair. Laughing at something he said.
My mom makes a sound. Something between a sob and a laugh. “There she is.”
“That’s her?”
“Ex-wife,” she corrects. Voice bitter. “Allegedly.”
They’re standing close. Grant keeps his distance from her, but I can tell they’re comfortable with each other.
