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She lowered the phone to her ear and cleared her throat. “Uh…hello?”
The line was quiet, but only for a brief second.
“Old man is with a whore. Goddamn bastard got us all worried, and he’s banging some broad. I’m done, Cade, it’s fucking over with him.” He must have been talking to someone else. The voice, though completely clear, sounded far away as if he dropped it. This wasn’t good.
Aside from the obvious, the mystery son being livid. If he thought his father was with someone, he wouldn’t come retrieve him. Shit!
“Hello?” she blurted, trying to get someone back on the phone. His son was obviously upset. She only hoped there was someone more rational with him so she could get this straightened out. She could ignore the whore comment, which was ridiculous as she looked down her body and then back to the old man’s. He’s old enough to be my father.
“Hello, is anyone there?”
“Put my dad on the phone,” the strong gravelly voice on the other end demanded. He was not the same man who originally answered, though he did sound very similar. His tone was equally angry.
“Okay, hold on.”
She extended the phone to the old man, but he turned around, giving her his back.
Marissa widened her eyes and choked on her breath. What? He was blatantly refusing to take the phone. This is just great. She had a seventy-year-old man acting like a seven-year-old, and now she was left to deal with his son, who didn’t seem any more mature. She sighed.
This good Samaritan bullshit is overrated.
“Pop!” The man shouted before she could speak.
“He’s refusing to take the phone,” Marissa said, growing increasingly irritated at this man’s tone. Surely, he knew of his father’s condition.
“Well, make him take the damn phone.” His tone was streaming with aggravation.
Marissa’s face heated, and her hand gripped the phone. This guy was an asshole. How was she supposed to make him take the phone? He obviously had no compassion for his own father. Peering over at the old man, he was eerily still; his head hung low with his back slouched over. He was a grown man, defeated.
Being a nomad gypsy had its perks, and this was one of them. Cutting herself off from human contact, as much as society would allow, enabled her not to have to deal with people. Or assholes. Her fury built inside her as her hand began to shake, and her chest burned. Where was his son’s concern for his dad? If she had a dad who was sick, she’d never leave his side. This poor man was sick, scared, and alone in a friggin’ rest area, and his son was mad at him? She clenched her jaw and gritted her teeth, blurting out the truth.
“You aren’t very good at this son stuff, are you?”
“What did you just say to me?” There was a strain in his feral tone.
She sighed. “I said, you aren’t very good…”
“I fucking heard you…”
Marissa crossed her arm over her stomach and rolled her eyes. “Then why did you ask me again?”
She could almost feel his anger radiate through the phone. “Shut your mouth and put my dad on the fucking phone.”
His last words were on the edge of incoherent from his shout. She glanced up at the old man and forced a smile. Fighting with his son was not going to help him. She drew in a breath.
“I’m gonna have to ask you refrain from yelling at me. It’s rude, and actually makes you come across as a gigantic asshole.”
A devious, humorless laugh echoed on the line. “Bitch, I don’t know who you think you are or who you’re talking to, but you’d be smart to shut your mouth and put my goddamn father on the phone. Now!”
Bitch? She choked out a grunt. This was unbelievable. It wasn’t the first time she’d been called one. However, it wasn’t warranted. Nomad gypsy life was so much better.
“What’d he say?”
She glanced up at the old man, who stared back at her with a scowl. Upsetting him more would do nobody any good, including herself. She forced a smile and held up a finger. Marissa stepped away so she wasn’t in hearing distance and spun around, giving him her back. She didn’t want to embarrass him by what she was about to say to his son.
It had been forever since she’d felt a burning fury, but she was pissed. Marissa grasped the phone tightly and lowered her voice. “I know exactly who I am and where I am. Your dad, well, he’s a different story. I can share it with you, but I’m gonna have to ask you to shut your mouth.” She spoke again when she heard him mutter something. “I’m the woman who has been standing in a deserted rest area parking lot with your father, who is obviously disoriented and has no clue where he is. Aside from being upset and scared, he’s also urinated in his pants.” Saying it out loud gave sympathy to what the poor man was dealing with, and she sighed. “Look, I’m trying to help him. I offered him a ride, but he doesn’t seem to know where he is or how he got here. He gave me his phone and said to call his boys. So, that’s what I did.”
The silence was deafening, and she feared he had hung up. Her next call would be to the police. Surely, they could help him.
