Page 203 of Split You Open

Dad’s frown disappears as he glares at me.

“You won’t” he snaps. He starts to say more but his eyes flick down to the bowl in my hands. “Eat, Blair Bear. You need those pills—you’re trembling like a leaf.”

“I’m alright,” I disagree but attempt to take a small bite.

My stomach grumbles loudly with delight.

Oh yeah, I’ll be able to eat this just fine. Dad waits until I’ve taken several bites before he continues to speak.

“Seeing you this hurt makes me so fucking sick,” he admits. “As you grew up, I prepared you for my world—for you to follow in my footsteps but thank god you didn’t. Keeping you hidden from the world had been hard, but now, I think, it would’ve been harder knowing you were out there taking jobs where I wouldn’t be close enough to step in to help if you needed it.”

I don’t know what to say to this so instead of speaking, I take another few bits of oatmeal. Silence stretches as I eat. It’s not uncomfortable—in fact, it’s very normal for the two of us. I relax a bit as he turns and stares around the room.

I’m about halfway through the oatmeal when my stomach starts to protest.

“Here, do you want it?” I offer.

Dad looks down at the bowl in my hand and frowns. “You should finish it. There wasn’t much in there to begin with.”

Wow. He must still be pretty shaken if he’s pushing this. While this concern might be normal coming from literally anyone other than him, it’s worrisome that Dad’s feeling this worked up.

“Hey,” I say quietly. Dad’s gaze lifts to meet mine. “I’m okay, Dad. Really.”

“I’m… not.”

I blink in surprise at his confession, made stiffly. It breaks my heart.

“I couldn’t save you this time,” he continues, quietly. “Dixie’s grudge was against me, not you, and I should’ve expected that one day he’d try to get back at me. But so much time had passed… I thought—well, it doesn’t matter. I let a threat loom over our heads and got careless. I’m the reason you’re hurt.”

He reaches out to take the bowl and places it on the nightstand.

I’m grateful because my hands are trembling hard now. Mostly from pain but partially due to the fact that he’s being so sweet to me. This isn’t the Dad I grew up with.

He’s better than that man.

“I don’t like the idea of you lowering your guard around anyone,” he continues. “But if you are going to lower it, the men that live under this roof are the best ones to do it around. They really do care for you.”

I smile. “I know.”

“I’m going to stick around until you’re better,” he adds, surprising me. “I might’ve been a bit hard on you growing up but I’d like to try to make it up to you now, if you don’t mind. If you need anything, I… I want to be the one you ask it of, alright?”

I’ve never seen him look so uncomfortable.

Or heard such emotion in his voice.

Looks like Dad’s a new man—it just took nearly dying for him to pivot.

“I’d like that a lot,” I admit. Hedging my luck to see how far this sudden fatherly affection goes, I ask, “Actually, there is something I need help with. Do you mind looking into it?”

Dad nods instantly. “Whatever you want, Blair.”

I hesitate for a second, not sure if he’ll be open to it, but there’s something I need to fix, and this is the only way I can think of right now. When I ask Dad my question, he considers it carefully.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“The others will help,” I tell him.

I can see that the idea of asking my guys for assistance on this task might be where he draws the line. His nostrils flare in disgust and his jaw ticks. After a second, he gives me a subtle nod.