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I’ve thought of this moment a million times, dreamed of it even, but never one of those times was he laying down. He was always standing, towering over me. Even though I’m a grown man now, I always imagined him larger than life.

Now that I’m here, all I can do is stare at his sleeping body, not even sure if he can hear me. Maybe deep in his subconscious? My heart pounds faster and faster, the steady whoosh ringing in my ears.

Standing at the foot of his bed, I struggle to find the words—words that have lived on the tip of my tongue for years. My adrenaline spikes, and it’s like my body is in fight or flight mode. I can do this.

Taking a minute, I stand frozen in the eerie silence and get my breathing under control. Tugging at my hair, I focus my thoughts on the fact that I’m a grown man. I don’t need his approval, or his charity. Not that a sleeping man can give any of those things. Bravery floods my veins and my heartrate evens out when I think about what I really want from him the most: answers.

This should be easy, but I expected to confront him man to man. Not like this. Seeing him laying lifelessly there on pale grey sheets, I grow angry at the fact that I can’t even take out my anger on him. I want to, but it wouldn’t be fair because this broken, aging man can’t talk back. He can’t answer the questions I was going to demand answers to. It’s hard to believe he’s the same man I hated all these years, feared even.

A ragged breath escapes my lips as I step closer, studying his sleeping face. Weathered skin that looks unnaturally pale, a square jaw covered dark stubble, black hair combed away from a relaxed brow above closed lids covering his icy blue eyes—eyes I see every time I look in the mirror.

The man who came for revenge doesn’t know what to say, so the boy who never had a dad speaks up instead. “Hello, father.”

“It’s me, Cohen. Cohen James Black. Your namesake. Your blood. Your son,” I spit out in a mocking tone. Not that any of that probably means anything to him.

“Your bastard son,” I add in a harsh whisper. A word I was often called. A word that made me cry before I even fully understood what it meant. A word that followed me around like a shadow. A dark cloud that showed everyone I belonged to no one.

I don’t dare say this out loud to expose that wound, that weakness. So I tell him the things I can in an attempt to let go of some of this weight.

“You don’t know me, but I’m certain you know of me. I’m certain that’s the reason you paid my mum to disappear. It’s nice to officially meet you.” Finally.

I turn my back and pace the room, coming to stop at the large wall of windows. Where do I begin?

“I’m twenty-four. I run a tech based company. I’m also involved in the shipping industry, mostly on the technical side. I’m working on a new charting software that will improve safety location services for fishermen. That’s who I’ve become with no help from you. Nearly two and half decades without a single word. No tossing the ball, no sailing lessons, nothing. Did you know about me? Did you choose a new family? A new wife? New children? A house full of them, who didn’t even share your blood?” Turning away from the windows, I walk back to his bedside.

Only the gentle beep of his machines provide a reply, but I find it gets easier as I talk.

“While I was being moved around, bounced from place to face faster than a ball in a game, you were moving on. You broke my mother. Stole one son, abandoned another, and set her aside like yesterday’s rubbish.” My chest aches as words I’ve harbored for so long, but never spoke out loud fall from my lips.

“She never got over you, by the way. But she tried to replace you. Oh, how she tried, and I was just the baggage she dragged along. A new man, a new town, a new name. They never measured up to you, her ‘dark and dangerous pirate.’ But she’s all I had. Or so I thought. All I knew. So I loved her just the same. I love her still, knowing who and what she was. But you, I know nothing about. You were nothing more than a bedtime story she would tell me when she was drunk and feeling nostalgic. Sometimes you were the villain and sometimes the hero, so I grew up believing in both. The older I got, the more you became the villain in my version.”

Tears burn my eyes, but I will them not to fall. I hate him for how he treated my mother, almost as much as I hate him for never trying to find me. I hate him for not caring that I was a scrappy little dark-haired runt who couldn’t defend himself from the fists of bullies in the school yard or the bullies mum brought home. I hate that his Black temper runs through my veins, because my mouth is often what brought on those beatings.

The beeping increases, as does my heartbeat, and the room doesn’t feel so quiet anymore. And amidst the storm raging inside, I hear her voice, encouraging me, fueling the rage. I see her weeping in bed, unable to get up. I see her painting her face, desperate to find me a daddy. I hear her arguing with someone on the phone. I smell the alcohol on her breath as she chases his ghost away.

Don’t let him off so easy, son. Make him pay for what he did to me. To you. To us.

I look at this man, a man I sought revenge after. His games and infidelities cost people their lives. I’m conflicted by what I’ve heard and what I know…what I may never know.

“You ruined her life, betrayed her, abandoned me, and abused your powers. You played God. Everything you touch crumbles, including those you pretend to love.” And still, he just lays there, not moving. Just the steady rise and fall of his massive chest

My balled-up fists relax at my sides as the anger starts to fade, but doesn’t go away completely. I’m exhausted from saying everything I’ve been carrying around for so long.

My mobile beeps with an incoming message. Shit! Willow’s here. I need to slip out. And quickly. She’s surely on his approved guest list. Looking around, I realize I’m stuck. Going back the way I came is the only way out.

Taking one last look at James, I find myself patting his hand with my own. It’s warmer than I expect, reminding me he’s still very alive.

I wanted to make him pay for what he did to my mother. To grow up, take it all away from him, and look him in the eye while doing it. But someone beat me to it. And not only has the company been taken over, but he’s not even awake to hear what I’m saying. Will there ever be a time for atonement?

“I’ll be back,” I tell him. “We’re not finished.” Not even close.

Slipping out of his room, I shut the door behind me and quickly make my way back down the corridor when someone rounds the corner and slams right into me. Willow.

“Excuse me. I’m so sorry,” she mutters, nearly losing her balance.

“It’s okay.” I quickly reach out to steady her. “There we go.”

When I release her and step back, her eyes widen in recognition.

“CJ?” she questions, and I freeze, watching her. Think fast!

“I’m sorry, do we know each other?” I do my best to appear confused and pretend I don’t remember her, even though it was just a couple weeks ago.

“We bumped into each other a bit ago, at a pub? I recognized you, but honestly, I remembered your name because my son thought you were a pirate. He thought CJ stood for Captain Jack,” she confesses. Not entirely wrong, mate.

“Oh, that’s right. Sorry about that. And as far as my name...nope, nothing nearly that cool. I do work in the shipping industry, but I’m no pirate,” I chuckle, genuinely amused at her son’s description of me.

“Well, crazy seeing you here. I’ll let you get back to…” she hesitates, so I pick up where she leaves off.

“Oh, yeah. My…uh, grandmother. I’m visiting my grandmother.” I nod toward suite 36. “But I’m just headed out if you’d like to grab that drink?” I throw her a charming smile, hoping to catch her off guard.

“Sorry, I can’t. I’m actually just getting here,” she politely declines. “Thanks, though. It’s very kind of you.”

I nod before turning to walk away, calling after her quietly, “I guess your someone showed up?”

“He did.” She turns, but I hear the smile in her voice. Lucky for him.

Needing a drink, I decide to head back to that little pub. I try to tell myself it has nothing to do with how close it is to Scarlett’s office, but as long as I’m in the area…