Gypsy King (Tin Gypsy, #1)(71)

How could he?

“Dash.” Bryce placed her hand on my knee. “I can hear the questions popping into your mind. Ask him. Get your answers.”

She looked at the house and I followed her gaze. Dad was standing in the front window, watching as I debated whether or not to get out of the car. Even from a distance and through the glass, I could see a gash on his cheek. I’d hit him harder than I’d thought. Made sense because my knuckles were killing me today.

I’d never hit my father before. Never would have dreamed of it.

Or, I had.

I blew out a deep breath. Bryce was right. I had to get some answers. “Let’s go.”

We exited the car in unison, and I took her hand, marching us to the side door. I didn’t knock. We found Dad waiting on the leather couch in the living room.

Without a word, I sat in a chair across from him. Bryce took the other in the room. The pair used to match the couch, but Mom had had them reupholstered a few months before she’d died to a deep green. They were ugly as sin, but the second Dad was ready to get replacements, I was taking these two chairs home.

Dad’s eyes were red rimmed and his skin pale. That gash was a lot worse up close and could probably use a couple of stitches. His salt and pepper hair was a mess, oily and in need of a good shampoo.

While I’d somehow managed to fall asleep in Bryce’s bed last night, Dad looked like he hadn’t slept a wink.

“I want to know why.” I broke the silence, wanting to talk first. This visit wasn’t for Dad; he didn’t deserve to run the show. “I want to know why you did this to her.”

“It was a mistake.” Dad’s voice cracked. “Your mother and Amina were friends. Best friends.”

Bryce stiffened, her face snapping my way. “Did you know that?”

Yes. I stayed quiet. If I told her about that stupid yearbook picture, she’d get pissed and leave. I needed Bryce for this today. Having her here provided a buffer. I’d keep my temper in check with her in the room. I couldn’t risk her finding out and leaving me to deal with Dad alone.

Dad’s gaze held mine. He knew I was lying by omission, but there was no way he’d speak up, not when he knew my white lie was nothing compared to the sins he’d committed.

“Keep going,” I ordered.

“We spent a lot of time together, the three of us. Your mom never left Amina out. She loved Amina.”

That love was apparently one-sided if her best friend had slept with her husband.

“I didn’t know.” Dad hung his head. “I didn’t see it. I think maybe your mom did and that was why she began to put some distance between her and Amina their senior year. But I didn’t see it.”

“See what?” I asked.

“Amina was in love with you,” Bryce guessed.

Dad nodded. “She was my friend. That’s all it ever was for me. I’ve never loved another woman other than Chrissy.”

“Then how could you fuck her friend and get her pregnant?” My fists pounded on my knees.

Bryce’s hand stretched across the space between our chairs, covering one of my fists. Thank fuck, she’d come with me today. I already wanted to leave. But her hand held firm, keeping me in my seat.

“Amina left Clifton Forge after high school. Didn’t think much of it when she and your mom stopped talking for a couple of years. Figured they’d drifted apart. But then Amina called her one random afternoon. Came to visit and spent the weekend in town. They came to party at the clubhouse one night.”

“And that was when—”

“No.” Dad shook his head. “Not then. Amina went back to Denver. But after that first trip, she came back every year. Always in the summer. Always for a weekend. She’d come party at the clubhouse, get drunk, hook up. You boys were young and the clubhouse wasn’t really your mom’s scene anymore. Wasn’t really mine either, truthfully. But Amina was single so we didn’t think much of it.”

The story was progressing, and my skin was crawling. But I kept my jaw screwed shut.

“Chrissy and I hit a rough patch. You and Nick were boys then. My God, we fought. All the time. Every day.”

“When? I don’t remember you ever fighting.”

“She hid it.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “She put a smile on when you both were home because she didn’t want you to know. We’d tolerate one another and then duke it out when you and Nick were asleep. She didn’t like how things were going with the club, we were taking risks and I was keeping stuff from her. It got so bad, she kicked me out.”

“But you always lived here.” I would have remembered if he’d moved out.

“You were only eight. Nick was twelve. We told you both I was going on a run. A long one. And I spent three weeks living at the clubhouse.”

Now that trip, I remembered. Dad had never been gone so long before and Mom was sad. Because she missed him. Guess there was more to it.

“You missed my go-cart race. I was mad at you for being gone because I won and you didn’t see me win.” I scoffed. “But you were in town the whole time.”

“I watched you win that race from behind a pair of binoculars about a hundred yards away.”

“You lied to us.”

He nodded. “Because your mom asked me to.”