And mine was born.
Today would’ve been Jack’s fifteenth birthday. It’s also the one day a year my father goes off the grid, a day when he struggles to find the courage to end his life and be reunited with his son.
It doesn’t matter I’m still here.
And I suppose it shouldn’t.
Because I let him die.
I’m the reason my dad didn’t get to watch his little boy grow into a man.
I’m also to blame for why my mom will never dance with her son.
It’s my fault I’ll never hear him call me Lala again.
I usually let my father have the day as I wait in agony for the moment one of his brothers comes knocking on my door to tell me that it’s over. Jack Parrish the toughest man I’ll ever know, has finally succumbed to his maker and is now at peace.
Not today.
Today I foolishly want to be enough. I wanted what I suppose any surviving child would want, and that was for him to look at me and realize I am still here and that I have been here for the last thirteen years wishing to be enough for him. Just once I wanted him to see me, just me.
You’re selfish.
You’re foolish.
He’ll never see you.
All he sees when he looks at you is the boy he lost and the girl he was left with.
I lifted my eyes to the rear-view mirror and stared at the dark eyes reflected at me. I had my father’s eyes, identical in color and when you looked closely the pain in his eyes was mirrored in mine.
I tore my gaze away, glancing out the window and stared at the Dog Pound, the Satan’s Knights clubhouse, the place where my father spent most of his days and nights. I slid out of the car, slamming the door behind me and beeping the alarm as I started for the compound. The parking lot was mostly empty, and I didn’t see my dad’s bike but my eyes zeroed in on the Harley parked in front of the clubhouse.
The bike was as badass as its owner and just as beautiful too.
Blackie, the tortured soul with a patch declaring him the vice president of the Satan’s Knights.
My father’s right hand and his best friend.
His brother.
Blackie.
He’d make me feel better.
He always did.
Always.
I ripped the line of coke like a motherfucking champ, desperate to reverse the effects of the heroin. If there was any justice to be had, I’d suffer a fucking a heart attack as a result of mixing the uppers and downers but I wasn’t that lucky. There was a higher power that had my destiny all mapped out, he’d let me beat all the odds, keep me breathing just to torture me more.
I pushed the remaining coke with a credit card, forming another line before I bent my head, pressing my index finger to the nostril I used to rip the first line and snorted the second.
I lifted my head, stumbled back as the door opened and I turned my head, lifting my hands to push the hair away from my eyes as they locked with Lacey’s.
Shit.
I didn’t need this now, another fucking temptation I wasn’t strong enough to beat. I shook my head, wishing she’d disappear, but she was there, staring at me with innocence radiating from her dark eyes. She looked at me like I was some goddamn mythical warrior.
“Your old man ain’t here, go home,” I clipped, peeling my eyes off of her as I walked around the bar, sniffling from the coke and itching for a drink. I pulled a bottle of whiskey from the shelf before reaching for a glass and filling it with the amber liquid. I placed the bottle on top of the bar and lifted the glass to my lips, knocking back the liquid in three gulps.
I set the empty glass down and she was in front of me, her eyes bored into mine and as much as I wanted to look away I couldn’t.
“Lace, I’m not in the mood, so why don’t you go on and tell me what you need that way you can get the fuck out of here,” I slurred, watching as her eyes widened at the tone I took with her.
Fuck.
I ran my fingers roughly through my hair, teetering on the edge of insanity, hating the way she was looking at me.
Quit looking at me like I’m something when I’m nothing.
“What’s the matter, Lace? You didn’t know your favorite Knight got down like this?” I sneered.
“Oh, I knew,” she quickly said, pulling out one of the stools before she took a seat.
Great, she was sticking around.
“I never saw it firsthand before is all,” she added, softly as her teeth dug into her bottom lip and continued staring at me.
I leaned over the bar, so she could get a better look at me and see how truly fucked I was. I wanted to scare her, to make her run the fuck away from me before I lost the little control I was hanging onto.
“Get out of here Lace, run the fuck away and don’t turn back,” I warned her, leaning back and refilled my glass.