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I think I owe you both an apology.
“You can save it,” Nix said. “We have nothing to say to each other.”
“Nix, I—”
“No, B. I wasn’t good enough for you then. I’m not going to lie here and have him tell me that because my old man is a piece of shit it changes anything. I’m not—”
“I didn’t know,” Michael said, clearing his throat. “I-I thought…”
“You thought what, Dad?” I pushed, anger curling my stomach.
So much pain and hurt and desperation. He’d broken me, broken me in ways I never thought possible.
“I thought I was protecting you. Life in that place is unforgiving, Harleigh. Look at what it did to your mother. Look—”
“You. You did that to her.”
“Yes, well. It seems like I have more than one mistake to atone for. But Sabrina felt—”
“Sabrina,” I spat. “Of course this would be about her. About what she wanted. About what suited her perfect little life.”
“B,” Nix whispered, clutching my hand to his chest. Our eyes met and he smiled. Even through the agony he smiled for me. “You don’t owe him anything. Least of all your tears.”
“How long?” Michael’s voice cut through the tension. “How long has this been going on?”
“Excuse me?”
His heavy gaze settled on Nix. “How long has your father been hurting you?”
“My entire life.”
His words, his honesty, broke me.
Michael was right. Life in The Row was unforgiving for so many. It was hard and brutal and filled with never-ending agony and pain. But there were glimmers of hope. Friendships that were forged out of pain and strife and survival. Bonds that could never be broken.
The Row had its problems, sure. But it wasn’t all bad.
“I see.” My father’s jaw clenched. “And the woman? Your stepmom?”
“The same.” Nix said, and I wondered if he knew how brave he was to admit that. How strong.
“Have you ever reported it to the authorities?”
“You’re an intelligent man, Mr. Rowe. I’m sure you know that the authorities have no interest in what goes on in a place like The Row.”
Michael’s jaw clenched again. “I need to make a few phone calls.” He stood abruptly. “I take it you don’t intend on returning to your trailer while your father is on the loose?”
“I wouldn’t go back there if you paid me.”
“Very well. Get some rest and we’ll talk tomorrow.” Michael’s eyes lingered on me, guilt and apology swirling there. “If you need anything—”
“I don’t.” Not from you. I bit back the retort. It had been a long night and all I wanted was to hold Nix and get some rest.
“I’m going to take Max and Celeste home, but I’m sure they’ll want to stop by tomorrow.”
“We’d like that,” I said, and it was the truth.
“Very well. I’ll tell the nurse you’ll need a foldout bed brought in.” With that he left.
