AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Wake up, son.”
I snarled, using my arm in a pathetic attempt to block the water being flung at my face. “What is wrong with you?” I sat upright on his sofa in the living room, swiping the beads of water from my eyes before shoving my hair away from my face.
“You came to me for help, and all you’ve done is work your way through every bottle of liquor in our small town.”
“If you can even call this a town,” I grumbled, knocking over the beer bottles on the coffee table while reaching for a bottle of water. “There’s like seventeen people and your dog living here. Eighteen if you count me.” Slight exaggeration. Probably even less than that.
Scrappy jumped up on the couch and curled up next to me. A golden retriever, of all dogs.
Given Dad’s beyond-extreme security measures, I’d have at least expected him to have a sidekick with a bit more bite.
“Traitor,” Dad said to Scrappy as he reached for bucket number two.
I set aside the bottle and held up my palms in surrender. “I’m awake. Sober.” Barely, but . . . “No more bathing needed.” My tense body relaxed when he returned the bucket to the floor.
He turned abruptly, disappearing from the living room, only to come back a minute later in cowboy boots, holding a wide-brimmed hat by the crown. “We’re going out.”
“You’re neither a westerner nor a cowboy.” I couldn’t help but give him a hard time, adding, “Just because you look and sound like Kevin Costner, doesn’t mean you’re suddenly John Dutton from that Yellowstone show. Since when do you wear a Stetson?”
Also, fuck that show, because Mya used to watch it. And anything that made me think of her made me want to drink, because it hurt too much to think about her after turning my back on her like I’d done.
“Since none of your damn business.”
Such a dad thing for him to say. Not that I’d know from firsthand experience. I was going on thirty-six, which meant he hadn’t been in the picture in almost twenty years. I was surprised I hadn’t called him by his first name, even in my head, since I’d arrived. Maybe subconsciously I missed going two decades without using the words dad, old man, father, pops, and all the others in between.
Turning back toward the door, my father whistled and Scrappy hopped off the couch and ran to his side. Barely turning back to me, he used his ridiculous hat and gestured for me to follow them.
I tried to stand, but my legs failed me. Dead weight. All of me. Haggard, beat down, and useless.
Dad’s boots clicked across the hardwood floors. He stretched out his arm, offering me his free hand. “Get up. No excuses.”
“Maybe one or two,” I scoffed. “Do I need to remind you what happened?” Not that I could handle verbalizing that ugly truth for a second time. Once was enough. For both our sakes, I kept my mouth shut and accepted his hand.
The last two weeks, the man had treated me like a burden, like I’d been the one who abandoned him. Not the other way around.
Maybe I’m the problem, though? My sour mood and grumpiness had even Scrappy cry-howling on occasion. Those were the only times I ever felt bad for being so fucked in the head in the presence of anyone, particularly an innocent animal.
“Where are we going?” I asked as Dad shoved one of his heavy winter coats my way. I pushed it right back. “No, thanks. My anger manages to heat me up just fine.” I was perfectly content losing all feeling in my body. Unfortunately, the numbness never impacted my mind. Nope, that kept working just fucking fine unless I drowned myself in alcohol to the point I’d pass out.
Although Dad had given me the second and only other bedroom aside from his, I never usually made it beyond the couch to sleep after one of my binge-drinking-away-life’s-problems sessions. I was becoming like my brother.
Hell, that was probably why Dad could barely stand the sight of me like this. I reminded him of his older son, of the child he lost.
“I’m not dealing with frostbite.” He forced the coat into my hands. “Now put it on. We’re taking the snowmobile to Emerald Lake.”
I wasn’t familiar with the lake, nor did I have any desire to take a ride with this man to have a look at it. Or ice fish. Or whatever the hell he had planned for me. But, not in the mood to get water dumped over my head again either, I relented and shrugged on the North Face jacket.
When Dad handed me gloves, I rolled my eyes, acting just like the kid I was back when Dad was still in the picture.
“Seeing as you slept in your boots, guess you’re good there.” Dad opened the door, and a heavy gust of wind provided my second wake-up call that morning.
Guess I wasn’t as numb as I thought, because I felt every biting sting of the cold air lash my face.
“Stay here,” he ordered Scrappy. He howled but followed his order and retreated to the other room. Probably to knock over one of my empty beer bottles in hopes of licking up a leftover drop.
“Is this ride to the lake really necessary? I’m still a wanted man.”
“Oh, about that.” He patted the wall by the door twice, then tossed a quick look at me over his shoulder. “Your name has been cleared. Surprised it took that long. Your girlfriend’s name, too.”
