Page 111 of Forbidden
I was still concerned about where his vest was. I couldn’t think of one reason why he wouldn’t be wearing it. I followed him to his study. It was when he turned the study light on that I actually took a better look at Dad.
He looked sick. Dad was never sick. His face was pale and his eyes dark. He looked like he belonged in Emergency. How had I not noticed how sick he looked before now? I guess I had been too frightened to look in his direction and when I did get a chance it was in the lounge and it was dark.
“I tried to get these to you nearly every day, but your mum had a radar on me.” Dad pulled something out of his draw, looking back at me. “You okay, Hannah?”
I guessed I was staring with wide eyes at him, but I felt like for once someone should be asking him that question.
“Dad, you look…”How did I word this nicely?
“Like shit.” He finished my sentence for me.
“Pretty much, yeah.” I watched him walk to his liquor cabinet. I couldn’t understand how no one had noticed Dad was sick. “Is it the club?” I took a stab in the dark, because surely he wasn’t like this all because of me.
He could take the weight of being the figurehead of an outlaw motorcycle club. He took everything that came with that in his stride. So I desperately hoped I hadn’t been the one to do this to him.
He remained quiet and I knew then what the answer was. It was me. I had caused this.
He turned around, walking toward me with a shot and pills. How the hell did I say sorry for this? God, look at what I had put him through.
I took the shot and the pills and as soon as the bite of the vodka was gone, my main focus went back onto him.
“You haven’t been sleeping, have you?” I could tell by the darkness that surrounded his eyes and the whiteness to his normally tanned skin.
He just shrugged. Was it possible to break Dad? Because I think I had broken him. God, why didn’t I stop for a second and think of what my actions could do to him! God, I was so selfish. I was so fucking selfish!
I wished Mum would walk in right now, because she always knew what to say when it came to Dad.
What he said to Cyrus rang through my head. He said he hadn’t slept; he had waited in the lounge in case I went to leave. He hadn’t been serious when he’d said that, had he? Had he really stayed up every night? Reality was a cold and harsh slap across my face.
“You’ve stayed up every night since it happened, haven’t you?” I couldn’t believe it. “How the hell is that even physically possible?”
Our bodies needed sleep. Sleep was when our bodies healed. Sleep was highly important for our brain to function.
“It’s called drugs, Hannah.” He threw down his whiskey and answered my question.
“You don’t do drugs.” It was the one thing he was always firm on. “You said as soon as you had us, you stopped.” Well, at the very least he’d stopped the hard drugs.
He just shrugged his shoulders. “Drugs are a weak man’s excuse. Still, if it meant I stayed awake and didn’t miss you leaving, then I was going to do it.”
My mood switched automatically. “How long have you been using?” I dropped to the ground in front of his armchair, pushing up the sleeves of his long black t-shirt, looking for tracks. One arm was clean and then I was furious when I saw his other.
“I thought Mum was looking after your bullet wound?” I looked at the untreated wound and it was really badly infected. “Shit, Dad, this must hurt.” I gingerly touched around it; it was basically oozing.
My eyes were pulled from his wound as he gently lifted my head and turned it to the side. I remained silent as I let him look at the damage. It had healed a bit—okay, maybe it did look worse than when he last saw it cause it was bruising badly.
I stayed still for a few moments and then slowly turned my head to look him in the eye.
“It’s not that bad,” I started. Again, I couldn’t help but think, maybe I had broken Dad? “It was my fault, Dad, not yours.” He had to know that. “I caused this broken jaw, not you, and look at what else I caused.” I looked at his infected wound. “I’ve caused you so much pain, Dad.”
I wished I could go back and do it all differently. I wished I had just gone back to the table and eaten a bloody steak to shut them up. Instead, I was a stubborn teenager and look at all the damage I had caused.
“You haven’t been injecting, so I’m assuming you’ve been snorting it.” I went back to dealing with his sudden drug habit. “Does Mum know?”
“As far as she knows, I’ve been sleeping on the couch.”
My eyes narrowed on him. So he had been lying to Mum. “And who does she think is cleaning your wound?” He couldn’t use his normal excuse of blowing her off, which was by saying I was taking care of it.
“Said I was taking care of it.”
