“No way in hell.” My arms strained from the pressure I put on them, bracing them flat on my desk. “I told you I wouldn’t do that. You get her working here, I’ll treat her with all the respect she deserves, but you want this. Not me.”
“Melissa wanted it.”
“God, I hate it when you use her against me.” I swiped a hand through my hair and then pushed it to the side, scowling at my dad.
Stubborn as a mule.
“If she said no, what good would it do?”
“You’re younger and handsome. Maybe she’d trust you more than a man who might remind her of her father.”
“So I pretend, what—to be her brother?” Because the very idea had my stomach rolling. When I looked at her photos there was nothing brotherly I felt about her.
Exactly why I was not the guy for this.
“No, not him. You know siblings can’t be replaced.”
I had never wanted to punch anyone more in that moment than I wanted to knock my dad out. It was such a visceral reaction, so overwhelming, so normal when it came to Melissa being brought up, I shoved away from my desk and went to the windows. The sun was shining on the water, there were dozens of pedestrians walking and biking across the river’s glass-bottom bridge. Many looked to be getting exercise. Most looked to be headed to work. A few medical professionals in scrubs walked along, sipping coffee, weary and haggard looking from the messy hair and dropped shoulders, as if just getting off the night shift.
“Hudson.”
I put my back to the window and crossed my arms. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”
He grinned at me from his spot in the chair, still sprawled like he didn’t have a damn thing to do that day. “Yep. Your mom used to tell me that all the time.”
“Liar. She called you a dick.”
“I was that too sometimes. Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
“Can’t you find something better to do, like hanging at the country club all day?”
“Course is closing soon for the winter.”
“Then go find a vacation home in Arizona for the winter.”
“Hate the dry heat.”
“Dad—” He was impossible.
“Go talk to her. If you can walk away from her then I won’t ask you again.”
He stood from the chair, pushing off both armrests and groaning as he did. Probably faking his knee and joint pain to get sympathy.
It worked. When it came to my dad or my family, I was the ultimate sucker. “One visit.”
“And you have to be nice.”
“Goddamn you.” I pushed off the windows to walk toward him.
He met me halfway and slapped his hand behind my neck, pulling our heads together. He was an inch shorter than me, thinner, but we still had the same facial features, the same eyes. Looking at my dad was seeing myself in thirty years.
“You’ll see. And I won’t even tell you I told you so.”
“Yes, you will.”
His lips twitched, fighting a grin. “Love you, Hudson, you’re the best damn son I’ve ever met.”
He let me go then, headed out of my office and closed the door on his way out.
He left me reeling.
Irritated. Emotional. Sad. Grateful.
Because I’d had him as a dad, and there were millions of people who couldn’t say that and be proud of it. Like her.
“Shit,” I grumbled and scrubbed my face with my palms.
I’d go see her.
I’d even try to be nice about it.
4
Lilly
I took all my classes for my second year at community college on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It gave me the weekends and a couple nights during the week to work at Judith’s and still find the time to study and remain caught up on sleep. It also meant I spent all day on campus surrounded mostly by recent high school graduates who reminded me of who I used to be and who I could have been.
It was a slow-drip kind of torture. The consistent reminder of who I’d never be again slapped me in the face every time I passed a gathering of friends.
Classes were long. Some more difficult than others. The days dragged on while I listened to eighteen and nineteen-year-old girls without seemingly any problems in the world giggle about boys in other classes, parties on the weekend, whining about parents they still lived with being overprotective and still requiring curfews.
It was difficult some days not to shake those girls. To tell them they should feel lucky they had parents who gave a shit about them and didn’t throw them to the wolves. They had moms who still cooked them dinners and made them their favorite desserts.
They didn’t have parents who moved after sending their daughter to prison and then didn’t bother sending a forwarding address so the mail was returned undeliverable.
Given the age gap and the complete differences in life, it wasn’t easy to make friends at school, not that I was really looking, but someone to eat lunch with occasionally wouldn’t have sucked. Word got out fast and spread even faster regarding my status on campus. It took one absent-minded professor to say my name during my Basic Finance class with a furrowed brow. He mumbled something about the prison program loud enough a couple of guys in the front row heard.
Everyone turned, spotted my cheeks burning and my quickly learned resting bitch face in place to give me away.
After that, I could hardly find anyone willing to do group projects with me. A few times I’d asked teachers if I could do them by myself. They’d agreed—possibly afraid to let me around the youth of America, than to attempt to get to know what happened.
I was an idiot. That’s what happened. I trusted those who should have been the most trustworthy and they screwed me over. Big time.
At least the school had a cafeteria though and seriously decent food. Although in honesty, food inside wasn’t all that horrific. Better than what I’d expected, but definitely not going to win any Michelin Stars. And while the cafeteria wasn’t going to win any awards either it was pretty damn tasty. Better seasoned. Juicier meat on my cheeseburger I was currently chewing on while groaning and griping over my accounting work.
This class was going to kill my GPA.
Not like it matters. What respectable company is going to hire an ex-con who can’t drive for three more years?
Movement across the table from me grabbed my attention right as a pale pink and black checked backpack slid onto the tabletop.
“Hey. Mind if I sit here?”
For a moment, I was stunned. No one had spoken to me on purpose in weeks. And certainly, no one ever sat with me. Still, I kept my head down on my computer. Minding my own business was always safer.
“Go for it.” I was occupying a table for eight. There was plenty of room.
“Um. My name’s Angie. You’re Lilly, right? I think we have accounting together?”
I eyed her through my lashes while she spoke and ran her hands together. She was effortlessly pretty with dark brown skin and large brown eyes. Her makeup looked like she was ready for a night out with friends, not school, and her braids hung well past her breasts.
I knew who she was. I made it a point to sit in the back row in all my classes. Habit formed from the last few years.
I knew she spoke quietly, if she spoke at all. She was pretty quiet unless she was with a group of four guys she sometimes hung around with and then she mostly stood back with a frustrated look on her face.