Unbreak My Heart (Rough Riders Legacy #1)(99)

“Including spending time raising your son.”

“Including that.”

I counted to ten before I responded. “So while you fought with your demons, trying to keep me safe from sexual abuse, my mother abused me and neglected me. Starved me. Tried her best to turn me into a feral animal. And that was somehow f*cking better? Than you stepping up to the plate and saying, ‘I’ve gotta draw boundaries but here’s how we can do it’?”

“I know that now. I didn’t know that then. Back when your mom wanted you to live with me fulltime because she was pregnant, I couldn’t do it. That makes me a shitty parent on a whole different level since I chose to leave you in what I knew was a bad situation.”

“Yeah, you did. While I’m sorry that your past scarred you, now mine does too. That could’ve been prevented.”

His eyes took on a hard glint. “Or you could be in therapy for the rest of your life after all the sick shit I did to you because I hadn’t dealt with any of what had been done to me.”

Jesus, f*ck, this was so messed up.

“I did eventually bring you to live with me.”

“Why did you bother? I mean, you were never home. Chet and Remy ended up looking after me. You just went on, business as usual. Things didn’t change a whole lot for me. Except I didn’t have my brother and sister underfoot—so I spent even more time alone. I still never had enough to eat. You never gave me money for anything. I had to get a f*cking job at age thirteen. A job I had to walk four miles to. What lesson was the hardship supposed to teach me?”

“It got the job done, didn’t it? You’re no worse for the wear. Look at all you’ve accomplished.”

I tuned him out. Fuck, I was tired of hearing that response. I was no “worse for the wear” now. I’d gone without then. That’s what burned my ass. I was a child. I didn’t have clothes that fit; I didn’t have enough food or school supplies or gym shoes. Now if I needed that stuff I could get in my car that I paid for myself and buy what I needed, with the money I earned. But being a thirteen-year-old boy, without transportation, without money, without supervision…no wonder I stole a dirt bike and drove into town. Straight to the grocery store in Moorcroft, where I sat in the aisle and filled my hungry belly until the deputy came and hauled me away.

Had my dad come and picked me up and paid for the food I’d consumed?

No. Chet and Remy had.

Besides admitting I didn’t know how to read at age nine, that’d been the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to me. The next day, my uncles took me to the local farm discount store where I ended up with jeans, gym shoes, work boots, T-shirts, socks, underwear and winter gear. I’d hated that they’d had to buy it for me even when I’d been so grateful to have it. That’s when my uncles had started dragging me along to their jobsites after school and on weekends. “Keeping me out of trouble” they claimed, but mostly to make sure I wasn’t starving and alone.

“Boone?”

I looked back at my father and didn’t block the resentment from my eyes. Maybe he didn’t need it, but he’d brought it up so he could just f*cking deal with it. “What?”

“What were you thinking about just now?”

“All of this. You, me, the big reveal. Me thinking back and trying like hell to find one decent father-son memory.” I leaned forward. “And I can’t. Not one. You weren’t a bad father; you weren’t a father to me at all. You were this random guy who showed up sometimes. Your neglect and shirking your parental duties don’t earn you the right to be proud of my accomplishments. I had no choice but to make it on my own. And it wasn’t the lessons in hardship you ‘taught’ me that got me there.”

“I told you I was a shitty dad.”

“You didn’t try not to be. The casual way you’re admitting lousy parenting is almost a point of pride with you. Maybe that attitude deserves an additional conversation with your counselor. I believe they call that a self-fulfilling prophecy?”

That startled him.

I guzzled my remaining beer. Six beers. In roughly an hour and a half. And that didn’t seem like nearly enough.

“I didn’t want things to end this way. But I guess it’s better than you being disgusted.”

“I am disgusted by what I’ve heard. But I’m not disgusted by you. Jesus. You were a kid and didn’t have any control over the situation.”

“I…didn’t know how you’d react. Because I don’t really know you, do I?”

I shook my head.

“Is there a chance we might change that someday?”

“Someday. But not today.”

Hurt flashed in his eyes.

“That answer is not because of anything you’ve shared with me tonight. If anything, you coming to me with this makes me hopeful that your counselor can help you get a clearer perspective on me.”

“What about you? Does any of the family…cycle concern you?”

“That if I have kids I’ll want to touch them inappropriately? Hell no. I’m one hundred percent sure of that right now. But knowing this about you, will have me looking at the past with a different…lens, maybe.”

The waitress brought another round. I might as well drink the damn thing since I wouldn’t be driving anywhere tonight.