Page 33 of These Family Ties


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“He was fine,” I spit. “What’s this about?”

Reaper lets go of me then and strides over to Mom, who doesn’t look like she’ll defend me at all. She must be mad that this is ruining her high.

“We can’t seem to get a hold of him for some reason. That’s all.” Mom is standing there in her black leggings and white tank top that looks like she pulled out from the bottom of her dirty clothes hamper. Reaper slinks around her, running a finger over her exposed neck and she tilts, giving him full access. She must have something in her system because her eyes close slightly at the contact.

“Well, if that’s all, I need to get ready for work.” I move to get past them and toward my room when he steps in my path.

“If you hear or see anything. Let me know, okay?” He pushes a crumpled piece of paper to my chest. I pull it back to read, the water from my skin bleeding the ink.

He gave me his phone number. What the fuck? Does he have wads of paper with his number stuffed in his pocket, readying to give them out like goddamn business cards?

Not wanting this interaction to last any longer, I give him a curt nod and hold up the piece of paper. “Yeah, sure.”

Once that uncomfortable situation is behind me, I close the door to my room and lean against it for a moment, catching my breath. Dad might have been able to dispose of a body, but what about the creeps that came looking for it. What’s he going to do about them?

I robotically dress, lost in thought, and almost miss the roar of an engine. I race to the window and peek out between the tattered blinds. A black Corvette kicks up dust and gravel. Thank goodness Reaper’s gone, but where the fuck is Daddy? Is he okay?

The time between my breaths gets shorter and shorter. I feel like a boulder is weighing my shoulders down, compressing me. A panic attack. I quickly sit on my bed and lower my head between my knees, waiting for the sensation to pass. When it does, my alarm chirps again, letting me know it’s time to leave for work.

I hope he’s okay.

Chapter Fourteen

Dominic

I spent all day riding around picking up stuff to furnish our new place. I’m not sure what Swayze’s standards are, but they’ve got to be better than the current situation we’re in. My blood boils at the reminder of that thin towel she was using the other night. Fucking Mer, letting those basic needs deplete to bare bones.

After picking up the papers from the courthouse, I swing by a used car’s sale lot and pay cash for a vehicle. The owner's an old friend of mine and he’s able to get it dropped off at the trailer. It was either that or I was going to have to walk back here later to pick it up.

When I pull up to the trailer, it’s late, but not that late. The sun is just setting over the horizon. I hate that I didn't get to see Swayze when she woke up or before she went to work, but I’ll get to pick her up soon with good and bad news. I’m hoping the good will outweigh the bad. All the shit we’ve been through and put up with will be behind us.

I step through the door and see Mer on the couch with her arms crossed over her chest. “You’ve been gone all day.” She gets up, striding to me and sticking her finger in my face. “You better not have used all the gas you put in there yesterday because I need to go out later.”

Swatting her hand away, I pull the rolled-up papers from my back pocket. “Don’t worry. We will be out of your hair soon enough.”

Her mouth forms an O like she’s shocked it’s come down to this, but after her admitting she’s an ass to my daughter, how the fuck can she be shocked? She recovers quickly, though with her mouth forming into a snarl. “What’re these?”

“Divorce papers, Mer. Don’t act like you didn’t see this coming.”

“You can’t do this. I know things. I could… I could tell Reaper on you. He could…” She sputters on, but she knows she has nothing on me. I never told her about my business for this reason. The only thing she knows is that I went to jail for holding drugs and firearms. That’s all. I only took the blame, but she didn’t know that. She can’t go over my head. I’m not some low man on the firing line anymore.

“He could do what, Mer? What do you want him to do to me? Hmmm?” A smirk plays on my lips. “Because you actually know nothing. I never gave you the ammunition for the gun you think you’re holding to my head.”

“What. I. This isn’t fair,” she sputters.

“What isn’t fair is how you’ve treated Swayze all these years. Fucking around with me is one thing. But fucking around with her? Her, I care about more than anything. So sign the fucking papers.”

She’s speechless for a moment. I’m not sure why she thinks she had any power to wield. If she would’ve just been the woman she pretended to be we wouldn’t be in the situation we’re in now. Her gaze locks on mine and there’s an agenda burning in them but I’m two steps ahead.

“I’m not signing these unless you pay me.” She throws them down, beaming at me like she’s got a leg to stand on.

“Right. I knew that was coming. You druggies run on two things: Your next high and how you can get the next.” I pull the wad of hundreds from my pocket, dangling it in her face. To her, that’s a lot. She’s never seen more than a few hundred at a time, but this is enough for her to choke on. She reaches for it, but her five foot two frame has nothing on my six foot three inches. “Sign. The. Papers. Mer.”

She huffs and whines, “I don’t have a pen.”

I roll my eyes, handing one to her. She’s predictable, that's for sure. She snatches it from my grasp, huffing as she does, and scribbles her name on the dotted lines. When she finishes, she shoves them into my chest. “Here. You happy now?”

“Yep.” I give her the cash and head for Swayze’s room to collect her belongings.

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