Dad looked up at me, watching me close and I wondered if he thought I blamed him for the shit we’d all been thrown into. “Koa tell you about his fight?” Kona nodded, looking worse than he had just minutes before. “That’s not on you.”
“Isn’t it?” He threw the towel to the floor. “My kid catches shit from some punk telling him his father can’t keep it in his pants and he sticks up for me? Knocks out some kid’s tooth? And that's not on me somehow? He hunched over on the bench, and let his hands hang loose between his knees, eyes on the wooden floor. “It’s my ex…Simone…though I have zero ideas why she’s trying to lay her kid on me.” He looked up, stretching his shoulders before he leaned forward, keeping his gaze on my face. “The other one…I just, I got no clue. She’s has to be some groupie, right? Though, shit, I’ve been out of the league thirteen damn years. Why the hell is this shit happening now?”
I’d debated telling him anything. It was a decision that up until that moment I thought maybe I should rethink. At his core, my father was aggressive. It was his nature to defend. It’s what made him a great lineman and better father. I knew telling him about Cass, about my suspicions, would trigger some huge alpha asshole in Kona that I could not contain. But I’d never seen my father this torn, looking this damn helpless. It scared the hell out of me.
“Dad…”
“I guess it doesn’t matter, right?” He worked that towel over his face, scrubbing his hair dry. “Aly’s got her man working on some things.”
“What?”
“She didn’t tell you?” I shook my head, a little blown away that she’d reach out to Dad despite how cold he’d been to her, despite how tightly she held onto whatever grudge she had against him. “She called me last night. Told me that she had Ethan looking into Simone and the other girl.” The muscles around Kona’s mouth hardened when I remained silent. “Why wouldn’t she tell you?”
“Why would she?”
“Keiki kane no matter what’s happened between you, she’s still family. How long have you known her? Has she kept anything from you?”
“I used to think she didn’t ever, but now…”
Dad didn’t seem to like my hesitation or the way I’d stared across the gym debating doing a little pounding on that bag myself. Kona nudged me, moving his chin at me. “What happened?”
Burdening my father with something from the past was pointless. It would only add to his guilt if he thought something he’d done to her had made her angry, had kept Aly angry. Besides, I didn’t know enough about her anger to make any real sense. “Nothing that matters right now, Dad.”
“I wish I could fix this for you.”
“You’ve got your own shit to worry about.”
“Yeah,” he said, drinking from his bottle, “that’s the God’s honest truth, brah.” He glanced at me, head shaking. “You and Aly aren’t…” I stopped him with a shake of his head.
“Mom said I should just let her be. I should be there for her and let her figure out on her own that she wants me. Let her make that decision.”
Dad didn’t speak, but looked at me for a long time, thoughts he kept to himself hardening the muscles around his face. Finally, he returned to the bag, punching it with less effort than he had before. “She said that?”
“Yeah. The night of the recital.”
A few more strikes on that bag, these harder, stronger and then Kona growled, kicking and punching until he backed away, hands on his knees to settle his breathing before he stood up, scowling at me. “Fuck that.”
“What?”
Dad came at me then, pulling off half-gloves with his teeth, dropping them to the mat on the floor so he could grip my neck, shaking me once. “No, Ransom. Don’t you dare do that.”
“Then what should I do?”