An Outlaw Monster (Back Down Devil MC #10)(49)

I was trying to convince Jasper and Cash as much as I was trying to convince myself. That was the sad part of it all. The lines between right and wrong were always blurred for guys like me, but this entire situation, the lines were invisible.

I knocked on the door and then turned the knob.

“Fucking unlocked,” I whispered.

The apartment looked like a single guy lived there. Pizza boxes, beer bottles, and empty bag of chips on the coffee table. A TV with some sports program on. I could see straight across to the backdoor of the apartment. I saw the figure of Cash standing there.

I let out a little whistle. “Hey. You here?”

A second later my old man appeared, coming from the right. He had a towel over his shoulder, half his face lathered up with shaving cream. In his left hand was a razor. In his right hand was a gun.

I quickly drew my weapon because you never f*cking knew what could go wrong.

“Trenton?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Put that f*cking gun away, old man.”

My father looked at the gun and stepped forward, placing it on the TV stand. He then pointed to his face. “I was just cleaning up a little. I have a job interview today.”

“Yeah, sure,” I said.

Job interview? Probably going to hustle some cash.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Everything okay?”

I tucked my gun away. I looked around the apartment. “Still living like this?”

“You know the economy.”

“You eat anything besides pizza?”

“*,” he said and grinned a fake white smile grin. “When I can afford it.”

I shook my head. “Clean yourself up a little more often and you won’t need to pay for it.”

“Ah, not me,” he said. “I have an acquired taste…” He put fingers together and kissed them. “I can’t just take some two-in-the-morning bar *. Never my style.” He turned and waved at me to follow. “Come on. I have to finish shaving.”

I followed the old man to the small bathroom. It smelled of cheap soap and was thick with a heavy wetness from the shower. He wiped the mirror with the towel and went back to shaving. I listened to the razor peel against his skin.

“Let’s talk about what you can afford,” I said. “Because I heard some stuff.”

The old man tapped the razor to the sink, splashing shaving cream and specks of hair into the sink.

“I’m not worried about it,” he said. “I’ll manage it, like I always do.”

All the old man’s fingers were crooked from getting broken so many times.

“With a job?” I asked. “What kind of job is that? Going to be a doctor?”

The old man looked at me. “And what do you do for a living? Huh? Fix up old cars and bikes? That’s what you want me to believe?”

“You know what I do,” I said. “It’s the life that came to me. The life that saved me. Maybe I’m here trying to save you.”

The old man finished shaving and wiped his face with the towel. He left the sink a mess and then tossed the towel to the shower.

“I don’t do the leather and motorcycle thing,” he said. “Trenton, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m perfectly fine.”

I blocked the doorway. “Tell me you’re not in debt anymore.”

“Of course I have debt. Everyone in the goddamn country has debt. I don’t live luxurious but I get by.”

“You know what kind of debt I’m talking about,” I said. “You owe for gambling, drugs, and *.”

The old man smiled. “I only go for what I can afford. Which is why none of it is here, Trenton.”

“I’m supposed to believe that?” I asked.

“Come here, let me show you something.”

I was then following the old man through the apartment. He opened the fridge and showed me he had whole milk, some oranges, an apple or two, and some orange juice. He opened all the cabinet doors and stood there.

“Want to search?” he asked. “Treat me like a f*cking child?”

“No,” I said. “I heard some shit, that’s all. Heard you’re in for quite a bit.”

“Not me,” he said.

It wasn’t the first time the old man lied to me. It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it sort of bothered me. I closed in on him, having a good four inches on his height. I could break him in a second if I needed to.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me,” I said. “Father to son. I want the truth. I’m owed the truth.”

Trent, what the f*ck is the point of this? What are you going to do? Stand up to the O’Nuall family and pay off your father’s debts?

Yeah, the entire scene was useless.

But I wanted to hear it. I wanted to feel it again. The lies. The deception. The hurt.

“Tell me you have no debt on the streets. No gambling. No *. No drugs. Tell me you’re not in on some big crews or families.”

The old man reached up to me and touched my face. “You’re a man now, Trenton. You’ve been a man for a long time. You’re not my little boy anymore. You have nothing to worry about when it comes to me. Understand?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Well you should. Because I’m giving you a straight answer right now. I’m fine. No debts. No thugs coming to break my hands. No crews coming to shoot me in the head. Okay? I’ve got a few grand on some credit cards, that’s it.”