Side Hustle (Dawson Family 3) - Page 98

“So you’re running away with your tail tucked between your legs? I might not have raised you, but I know that’s not the type of girl you are. You have more Cooper blood in you than that.”

“I just…I…” I shake my head. Dad’s having a rare moment of clarity and I’ve been honest all night. Why stop here? “I’m scared. Scared to hear him tell me he doesn’t want me. Scared to see the look of anger or disgust on his face when he sees me. I left to save his career but also to escape rejection.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear you admit that.” Wrinkles form around Dad’s mouth as he smiles. “I was scared to come back to you for the same reason.”

“Really?” I perch on the edge of the heater vent next to his bed. The air coming out is room temperature, which is why this place is so fucking cold.

“Yeah. I was sure you’d hate me.”

“I did hate you.”

“Only for a while.” Dad yawns and looks around the room. “What time is it?”

“Two in the morning.”

He yawns, and I know his mind is going to start slipping back into whatever fog it’s usually in. He’ll forget about our conversation in the morning. Memory is such a wondrous and confusing thing.

“You should get home. You have school in the morning. We’ll talk about the boy tomorrow.”

“Okay. Thanks, Dad.”

“It will work out.” He nods and reaches forward to pat my shoulder. His balance is off, and I don’t want him to fall out of bed. I stand, moving closer. “If he’s a decent boy at all, he’ll see you for what you are.”

“I hope so,” I whisper and gently push Dad back down. I don’t know what I am…but I know what I want to be.

I want to be with Weston and Jackson. I want to go back to Eastwood. I want us to be a family.* * *

I tuck my legs up under myself, trying to get comfortable. About an hour after I got Dad back to sleep, his roommate woke up and has been in bed hollering for pain meds nonstop ever since. The nurse came in, told him he’s not due to have any more for another few hours and told me that he does this pretty much nightly.

Great. Just fucking great.

I put on my winter coat and folded up the blanket, trying to use it as a pillow. My suitcases full of all my possessions are cluttering up the room, and every time I see them my heart sinks even lower into my chest. It’s going back to that dark crevice it clawed its way out of, and it hurts more and more the lower it gets.

I thought about Dad’s words and see truth to them. But I’m still scared, both for myself and for Weston. I’ll take his anger and disappointment in me any day over the possibility of ruining everything he’s worked for. I’ll get over it. Somehow, someway.

I know Jackson will someday face adversity in his life, but if I can keep him innocent and carefree, I will. Weston does a good fucking job hiding his trouble and stresses from the kid. But there’s only so much he can handle. Having Daisy come back, finding out my dark past, and losing his job…nope. I won’t have it.

I doze off for about an hour and wake up with terrible cramps in my legs. I roll my big suitcase over and stretch out my legs, trying to get comfortable again. I’m so tired, physically and emotionally. I close my eyes and drift to sleep, dreaming that I’m back at Weston’s and everything is perfect.

Dad’s roommate wakes me up. He gets out of bed and some sort of alarm goes off. And off. And off. Finally, I get up, pull back the curtain that divides the room in half and see the guy sitting on the edge of his bed, about to face plant on the floor.

“Hey,” I say to him, but it’s no use. He’s even farther gone than my own dad, and I don’t think I’ll get lucky with another moment of clarity. I duck into the hall, looking for someone to help me get him back into bed. There’s no one in sight. Grumbling, I spend the next fifteen minutes trying to get him to lay back down.

Once he’s down, I get my toothbrush and go to the bathroom, brush my teeth, and come back to the room. I pull my messy hair into a bun and grab a new sweater to change into. Dad is still asleep and should be getting up for breakfast soon. My stomach grumbles at the thought of food. There’s a crappy diner that serves crappy food not far from here, and they open at six AM. I know this because I used to work there until I got laid off.

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