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“At the time, though, I thought I was. I was thirty-one and a racecar driver, always on the road. I didn’t have much to offer her. Thompson took after our dad, running the business side of the company, and I knew that he would be able to provide for you. Not to mention they’d already had Tommy, and a brother seemed like a great thing for you to have, so I backed down. I left and let her do it her way,” he explains, eyes shining with regret.
“He found out around your first birthday. Tommy was racing around the yard in his little motorized car and accidentally ran you over,” he says, eyes far off in the memory. “You weren’t hurt, just scared. But I ran over to you and scooped you up, holding you to me and calming you down. Your mom ran over to make sure you were okay, and I think Tom saw the way the three of us looked standing there together. He tore off into the house, knocking things over as he went. I handed you over to your mom and went to confront him.”
“What happened?” I ask, having only ever heard parts of this story before.
“He asked if his suspicions were correct, and I told him they were. He obviously reacted the way any man would. We fought, and in the end, I agreed to back off. I didn’t want to rip his family apart, and I knew that what Lydia and I did was wrong. But God, the way I loved you,” he says, smiling through the pain.
“And still, you left me to be raised by a man who would never love me. Someone who left me out, mistreated me, and refused to treat me with any respect, ever,” I say, watching as the harsh truth hits him.
“Bodhi, I’m sorry,” he says.
He reaches for me, but I step back.
“No, you left and started your own family, and left me to fend for myself,” I yell.
“You had your mom,” he says.
“She never stood up for me! She just sat there silently, taking whatever shit he dealt,” I say, tears falling freely from my eyes again.
“I know—”
“And you did nothing! You watched me go through life as a shadow and never stepped in. I’ve been fucking struggling with shit since Tommy died, and not once did you say a damn thing,” I yell, and I’m positive that Madelyn can hear every word.
“If I had it all to do again—”
“Well, you don’t,” I sneer, backing away from him, ready to leave.
“Bodhi, let’s talk about this,” he calls after me.
“I have nothing else to say. You left me, and he doesn’t want me, so fuck you both,” I shout, and walk away.
Maybe I’m more like him than I ever knew.
Chapter 59
I didn’t sleep last night. Tossing and turning, letting Bodhi’s dad’s words eat away at me, even knowing they weren’t true. Hurt over the fact that he lied to me and only further put me at risk, especially after we’d just talked about all of this last week.
Now I have to worry about what Mateo might do when he gets out, and whether his ire will be aimed at me.
Sitting on the beach, watching the gray clouds roll in from the horizon, I decide to just focus on the race coming up. It’s worth enough to keep Mateo off my back for a decent amount of time and allow me to come up with a better plan.
I’ll drive out to Monterra tomorrow and get some practice. That way I’m familiar with the road when the day comes. I have to focus, now more than ever, and I tell myself that breaking up with Bodhi was the right thing to do, but my heart doesn’t seem to agree.
The wind picks up as a storm rolls in, picking up my hair and twisting it around my head.
Lightning strikes in the distance, the bolt reaching out its fingers to kiss the surface of the ocean before zipping back up toward the sky.
Like me and Bodhi.
He’s the ocean; all-consuming and deep, with a current strong enough to pull you under if you let it. I’m the lightning, crackling to life for only moments at a time, striking out at anything near me, and only long enough to make contact before I retreat back to where I came from.
“Hey,” a familiar voice calls from somewhere behind me.
Sander. He’s dressed in casual clothes, and hesitantly approaches.
“I was at my parent’s visiting and saw you out here from the back window. You okay?” he asks, eyes still weary after the other day. I don’t blame him either.
I shrug, not really sure what to say. There’s so much I can’t say to Sander.
