“He’s got a mouth on him,” Jack set the shot glass aside and picked up his beer instead, taking a quick swig.
“He has.”
An ice pack appeared on the table in front of him and Jack glanced up to see Harry walking back towards the bar.
“Thanks,” he called after him, picking it up and easing it onto his knuckles with a wince. “What was he talking about out there – something about me being sorry, like you were?”
“That’s part of his charm,” Callum said sarcastically, before taking a mouthful of beer and setting the bottle down on the table again. “If being a dickhead was an Olympic sport, he’d be a gold medalist, several times over. He said something about Ally a while ago and I pretty much reacted the same way you just did. He pressed charges, I ended up in court. I’m on probation and he knows it. It was worth it, though.”
“Probation?”
“Good behaviour bond. And some anger management bullshit.”
Jack couldn’t help but smile. “Wow.”
“Yeah,” Callum took a hurried swallow from his beer bottle. “So enough about that. I thought you’d be long gone by now. Why are you still here?”
The smile faded. “I heard what you said the other night, and I get it. I messed up and there’s no changing that. But I meant what I said – I’m not going anywhere. And if that means you want to take a swing at me again, fine. Go for it, I deserve it, and a hell of a lot more besides. Shit, if it’ll make you feel better, beat me to a pulp. I won’t stop you.” Callum raised his eyebrows, opening his mouth to interrupt. Jack beat him to it. “But we’re still gonna have to talk about this when you’re done.”
Callum surveyed him from across the table, taking his time. “What the hell happened to you? Where’d you go?”
He was prepared for animosity, reflexive anger, wisecracks and whole lot more besides. He wasn’t expecting sincerity.
“What do you mean?” he asked, buying time to think.
“I mean, where have you been all this time? And that – outside, with Andy – where the hell did that come from? What happened to you?”
“Didn’t Dad tell you?”
“I stopped asking. He acted like you were in Witness Protection.”
In spite of himself, Jack smiled; a sad smile that tore at his heart. Would it always feel like this when someone mentioned his father? Like a little piece of his heart was being ripped out?
He chose to ignore the last part of Callum’s question, and instead concentrated on the first part.
“All over,” he said, discarding the ice pack. “I moved around, went where the work was.”
He could feel the questions building as he clamped his teeth tightly together, hoping that would be enough. He knew it wasn’t, he knew he owed him more. But it felt like it was too soon to be talking about any of this. He didn’t need Callum judging him any more than he already was, especially when the full story was nothing to be proud of.
Callum’s eyes narrowed. “Okay. Well, if those questions are too hard, let’s start with something easy. What are you doing here, tonight? Looking for me or just felt like getting out and about for old times’ sake?”
“I’ve been talking to Ally.”
He steeled himself, but Callum’s expression remained neutral. “Really.”
“Will you just hear me out?”
Callum’s response was to take a swig of beer. Jack took this as a sign of acquiescence so he barreled ahead before he lost his nerve completely.
“Something Ally said to me tonight really struck a chord. She said the only thing we can control is the present and the future. She’s right – the past is past, nothing I can do will change what I did. And I guess that’s why I’m here. I want to be there for her, from now on. I missed my chance with Dad and that’s something I’m gonna have to live with, but I don’t want to make the same mistake with Ally, or with you. I don’t want you to forgive me, because I don’t deserve it. I don’t even deserve to ask for it, so I’m not going to. I just want you to let me be there for her. That’s it, that’s all I’m asking for. Don’t fight me on this, please? I want to make a difference, here and now and as long as she’ll let me.”
His breath caught in his throat, his heart racing a million miles an hour.
Callum stared at him calmly over the table.
“Well?” Jack urged, desperate to know where he stood.
“You want to make a difference?”
Jack nodded, a sense of dread crawling up his spine.
“You could’ve made a difference if you’d been there when she woke up, after the accident,” Callum said evenly. “Maybe if you’d been the one to tell her that the reason she couldn’t feel her legs wasn’t because of the medication, but because her back was broken, that would’ve made a difference. You could’ve been there with her when she was in rehab for all those weeks, when she just wanted to give up – you could’ve made a difference then. You know what? I can think of at least a hundred separate occasions over the past four years when you could’ve made a difference, Jack, but where were you then? Because you sure as hell weren’t here.”