A Deep and Dark December(59)
More than anything, Graham wished he didn’t have to tell Erin about this on top of everything else she was dealing with.
Pax whistled. “That’s a long way up. How do you think he did that?”
“There’s no ladder,” Graham responded.
“Second floor balcony.” Pax nodded. “Why do you think he did it?”
“Could be because my son, the sheriff, is having…relations…with Keith Collins’ girlfriend.”
Pax’s gaze swiveled from Graham to Ham, then back again.
“Pop—”
“Is this true?” Pax asked.
Ham glared at his son.
Graham shifted his feet under the condemning stares of the two men he respected most in this suffocating small town. “They broke up.”
“You need to get your act together.” Ham pointed at Graham, his face mottled. “Unmarried. Cavorting with that…that December woman. Trash. All of them.”
“Don’t talk about her like that,” Graham warned, closing in on Ham.
“You’re jeopardizing your legacy. Our legacy.” Ham shook his head and wobbled a little. “I understand a man’s need, but find a woman of quality. Or find what you need outside of town.”
“I did what you wanted. I came back here and became sheriff. I’m not going to let you or anyone else tell me who to spend my time with.”
“Don’t you dare speak to me like that! You don’t tell me, I tell you.” The force of his statement sent Ham back a step. Graham reached for him, but Ham moved away, wiping a trembling hand over his mouth. “I may not be sheriff anymore, but I’m still your father.”
“Gentlemen—” Pax began.
Graham interrupted, “I care about her. And nothing you say will keep me away from her.”
“I won’t have a December bastard for a grandchild!” Stumbling, Ham came up against the doorway. He struggled for breath. Clutching his chest with both hands, his cane clattered to the floor.
“Pop!” Graham rushed to his father’s side. Pax helped Graham ease his father to the floor. “Call an ambulance,” Graham ordered.
“No.” Ham gripped the lapel of Graham’s jacket. “Promise me you’ll stop seeing her.”
“Pop, you’re sick. You need to go the hospital.”
“Promise me.”
The panic that squeezed Graham’s gut spread, constricting his lungs until he thought he’d vomit. He couldn’t do it. He’d done everything Ham had asked, but he couldn’t do this. Staring into his father’s eyes, he couldn’t lie to him either. “I’m sorry.”
Pax mumbled into his phone. Graham’s pulse thundered in his head. Outside, birds chirped, a dog barked. In the distance, the ocean rumbled low, a sound so constant it was white noise. Through it all, Ham’s words rang sharp as a bell though he only whispered. “You’re no longer my son.”
“You don’t… Pop…”
Ham turned his face away, releasing his grip on Graham.
“An ambulance is on its way,” Pax said.
Graham backed away, looking down at the man who’d been his hero his whole life. He’d done everything, everything his father ever asked of him. But it was never enough. Ham asked for more, always more.
Pax knelt down next to Ham and unbuttoned his collar. He was saying something to Ham, but all Graham could hear was the roar in his head You’re no longer my son. No longer my son…
“Graham.”
Pax’s voice broke through. How long had Pax been calling him? He slowly pulled his gaze from his father to look at Pax.
“He’s going to be fine. Don’t you worry,” Pax said.
“Sure.”
“Why don’t you go with him to the hospital? The guys and I can take care of things here.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
“Graham, I’m going to need to talk to you later. And Erin too. Get your statements. Your whereabouts. Considering everything. It’s just a formality.”
“Whatever.”
“He’s going to be fine,” Pax repeated.
Graham nodded, edging out of the room that suddenly felt overly hot and stifling. He broke out of the house as if he’d been forcibly expelled, running down the steps to his car. Carol still sat in the passenger seat with the door open.
“Go home,” he told her.
“But you said—”
“You can go.”
“All right.” She climbed out of the car, eying him warily. “Are you okay?”
He slammed the car door shut. “I’m fine.”
“What should I tell everyone at the store?”
“Tell them what you want. That’s what everyone else in this town does. Why should you do different?”
She gave him a look of hurt before she turned to walk down the hill back into town. He watched her go, guilt coating over the sickness in his stomach. He’d told her he was fine. He wasn’t. He wasn’t anything.
Who was he if he wasn’t Ham Doran’s son?
Erin watched the lines and numbers on the machine next to her aunt’s hospital bed, willing them to even out as her aunt’s heart rate spiked again. The sedation helped, but didn’t minimize the intermittent twitching and stiffening of Cerie’s body. She was worse than she’d been the day before.