Page 23 of Selfie
“There’s one more thing I need to talk to you about.” The way he says it makes my stomach drop. His tone is completely devoid of humor.
“What?”
“First, I need you to promise me you’ll stay calm.” After taking a seat across the table, he gestures to the seat I just got up from.
I hold a poker face, pretending I’m unconcerned, but wild scenarios run through my mind. Is Mom okay? I talked to her last week, and she sounded in great spirits. Is Dad sick? He looks strong as ever—actually a little thicker around the midsection since he settled down with Julia.
“Say what you need to. I’m calm,” I say as I slump back into the seat.
He folds his hands together and purposely stares at the table, not meeting my eyes. “ADA Trent Murphy and I golfed this past weekend. As a courtesy, he wanted me to let you know that Peter was released early from prison.”
Shocked silence is all I can manage for what seems like eternity.
“Nate,” Dad says sternly, his voice pulling me back to reality.
My mouth is so dry I can barely get the words out. “That’s…what…six years early? He only served half his sentence. How did this happen?”
“On paper? Counseling, therapy, good behavior. In actuality, crowding issues.”
My stomach lurches as reality continues to set in. How many more ways can I fail Elise? I wasn’t there when she died. She held out as long as she could in the hospital, waiting for me, but I couldn’t make it because I was stuck on the wrong coast. By the time I got home, Claire and all her belongings were swiftly removed from my home.Her home.She’s not my daughter by blood, but I was more of a father to her than piece-of-shit Peter will ever be capable of.
“Somebody needs to warn Ruby?—”
“Enough,” Dad warns. “If you go near that family again, they will be granted the restraining order they so desperately want.”
“Thenyouwarn her. The first thing Peter will do is try to get in touch with Claire, which is not happening.” My jaw clenches even picturing those two in the same room. It took Elise strength she didn’t know she had to leave with Claire and press charges against the man who tormented her for so long. He doesn’t deserve a relationship with his daughter.
Dad folds his hands together tightly. Suddenly, his eyes are pleading. “I haven’t told you the worst part.”
I lift my head, meeting his stare with daggers in my eyes. “What could possibly be worse?”
“Peter had a better chance at early release if he had a stable home to return to. He’s living with Ruby and Claire now.”
“No. Absolutely not?—”
“Nathan, it’s not your choice.”
“What the fuck, Dad?” I bellow. “I told you all the stories. The living nightmare Elise escaped from. Peter’s deranged and violent. He only takes breaks from snorting lines to prep a goddamn needle. He’s not allowed near Claire. Not in this lifetime or the next.I will not allow it.”
Dad’s patient as my breathing goes from the loud, growly grunts of a pissed-off bull, to a slow, calm cadence. I’m thirty-three and he’s still parenting me by waiting until my tantrum is over to speak.
“It breaks my heart to say this, but she’s not your child. This isn’t up to you. It’s Ruby’s job to protect her grandchild.”
I hate this feeling. Overwhelming dread at the imminent doom I can’t do anything to stop. “If I killed him, she’d be safe. Elise could rest in her grave knowing her daughter won’t be harmed.”
“Perhaps.” Dad ducks his head in a weak nod. “But what would Elise think about you locked away for a life sentence, even lonelier than you are now? Do you honestly think that’s what she’d want for the man she loved so much?”
“That was slimy.” My words barely come through my gritted teeth. “Don’t use my tragedy against me.”
“I’m for you, Nate. Not against you.Youare not to involve yourself in this. You have a huge project to focus on. We can place a PI on it to give us peace of mind. If we see anything other than perfect behavior out of Peter, I’ll personally ensure the LVMPD throws him right back into the garbage can he crawled out of. Can you trust me?”
I go silent again, listening to the loud ticks of the wall-mounted clock. I didn’t notice it before. Now, the rhythmictick,tockis deafening. A new realization hits me, and I toss Dad an icy stare. “You’ve known for a while, haven’t you?”
“Hm?”
“The property, this father-son project… You just wanted me distracted.”
He goes stoic. His lack of response isn’t an admission or denial. “I love you, Nate. I’m here if you need me.” With that, he rises. Dad makes a point to pat my shoulder before striding out of the meeting room.
