Page 65 of Irrevocably

I stay there a moment or two, trying to gather my courage for this conversation, because it’s not one I ever wanted to have. But I have to do this. I have to know if my father has been corrupt all this time, turning a blind eye to the MC’s gun-running operation and likely letting them get away with literal murder.

I have to know if my father has secrets as dark as mine.

Finally, I move, making myself walk to the living room doorway. Dad is sitting in his chair, watching a movie on TV.

“Hey,” I say.

He glances at me and nods, then looks away. “You’re up late.”

“So are you.”

He shrugs. “There was a movie I wanted to watch.”

No, there wasn’t. He’s here because he can’t sleep, and we both know it.

I come into the room and sit down on the couch, wondering how I’m going to approach this conversation. “I was out with Wolf. He was giving me a ride on his Harley.”

Dad picks up the remote and turns the TV off, then he pushes himself out of his lounger. “Too cold for riding around on motorcycles,” he says brusquely. “I’m going to bed.”

“Dad,” I say quickly, before I lose my nerve. “I need to talk to you.”

He’s nearly at the doorway, and I wonder if he’ll just walk straight out, but I’m surprised when he doesn’t. He stops and glances at me. His eyes are a faded blue, like old denim, and I note the salt-and-pepper grey flecks in his hair and in his five o’clock shadow. He looks older than he is, and tired, defeated almost.

My heart twists. I’ve let it go on too long, this distance between us. I should have said something sooner, asked him where my old dad went, and why he doesn’t talk to me anymore, why he never says he loves me. But I’ve been too afraid of the answer. Too afraid to even broach the topic.

I still don’t want to, but there’s a part of me that believes that this is my fault. And that I have to fix it somehow.

“What is it?” he asks.

I decide to get straight to the point. “We need to talk about the Hellhounds.”

He goes very still, his expression far too determinedly neutral.

My gut hollows as the truth settles inside me, the faint hope I didn’t know was there dying. What Lucien said about him is true, isn’t it? He knows about the Hellhounds’ operation.

“That’s police business, Addie,” he says. “Not yours.”

I ignore this. “I heard a rumour about the club. That there’s a gun-running thing that operates out of the port, and that the police turn a blind eye.”

Dad’s expression changes, focuses somehow, and all of a sudden, I know I’m getting Police Chief Starling, not my father. “And where did you hear this rumour?”

I give him the same lie I gave Wolf. “It was in an online chat group. Someone said they had proof.”

“I wouldn’t listen to anything anyone said on the internet,” Dad says, a dismissive note in his voice.

“No, I know. But … I’m worried about Wolf.” I give him a concerned look. “I don’t want him to go to jail.”

Dad’s face is expressionless. “Don’t you worry about him. He’s fine.”

“And I worry about you, too,” I go on. “I don’t like people saying that you’re being paid to let it happen.”

“People say a lot of things,” he says. “Ignore them.”

“Dad,” I say softly. “I know it’s true. I know they’re running guns and that you let them get away with it. Is that why you don’t talk to me anymore? Why you don’t sleep? Why you don’t look at me?” My throat closes and tears prickle behind my eyes before I can stop them. “Are you ashamed? Is that why?”

Dad is still, then he looks toward the fireplace, at the photo on the mantelpiece. Him and Mom on their wedding day. They’re so young in that picture, only a little older than I am right now. Mom glows in her lacy white gown, while Dad is handsome and beaming at his new wife.

“I loved your mom,” he says after a moment. “God, I loved her so much.”