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“Drop me off at Kaden’s. I need to talk to him.”
“You’re coming back to the house. We need to go over a game plan for tomorrow. I’ve called for a press conference first thing in the morning. Besides, Ned and Roni are waiting for us. Your brother will be there too.”
I’m tempted to ask if Monica’s parents are half as worried as my father is not, but I bite my tongue.
“I’m not going to ask you again, Cash. Where were you?”
“Clearing my head.”
“Why did you need to clear your head?”
I meet his gaze head on. “I was planning to file for divorce.” My admission brings on stony silence, but the storm gathering on his face stiffens my spine, and I wait for the eruption.
“Are you out of your mind?”
“I don’t expect you to understand.” Not after his uncaring reaction the night of my birthday dinner when I dropped the bomb of Monica’s affair.
“Are you screwing another woman?”
My silence is all the answer he needs.
“Damn it, Cash! How could you be so stupid? Or do I need to remind you of the infidelity clause? You know what’s at stake!”
“A woman is dead and my wife is missing! I think the stakes are already fucked.”
“Exactly. We have enough to deal with without adding your whore to the mix.”
An intense desire to plant my fist in his face heats my blood. Instead, I press the button that lowers the partition. “Pull over. I’m getting out.”
“Are you sure, sir?”
My father shoots out a hand. “Don’t you dare stop this car,” he shouts at the driver.
“Stop the fucking car!” I’m already grabbing the handle.
The sedan slows in front of a gas station, and I push the door open before the driver has a chance to come to a full stop. My dad exits the car, followed by Blackwell, and they come after me, both shouting my name at the same time.
“Leave me the fuck alone.” I toss a glare over my shoulder, but their footsteps increase. Seconds later, a hand grabs me by the arm.
“Get back in the car, son.” My father’s tone is calm and even. He’s reined in his temper in order to gain control of me. It’s his number one tactic, and even knowing this, I falter.
“My personal life is off-limits,” I say, turning to face him and Blackwell. The car’s reverse lights are on, wheels rolling to eat up the short distance.
“So you’re willing to risk everything over a piece of tail?”
“I mean it. Off-limits.”
My father is about to say more when Blackwell interjects. “Going to war with each other won’t solve anything.” He stands tall at my dad’s side, and I find his impeccable suit annoying as hell. He’s as put together as if he just dressed for the day. I can’t say the same for my father. Lines of stress sharpen the angles of his face, and his lids droop over tired eyes.
He relaxes, apparently convinced I’m not going to take off again. “Blackwell’s right. We’ll work this out at home.” He glances around our deserted surroundings, save for a guy in a red truck pumping gas, and a woman in scrubs entering the store adjacent to the gas station. “This isn’t the place to have this conversation.”
I’m tempted to start off down the street anyway, but my father and his vulture of an attorney aren’t about to give me breathing room. With a sigh, I let them usher me back to the idling car.
