Misfits Like Us (Like Us #11)(108)

His face contorts. “And you still got out of the car and followed me here?”

“You’re Xander’s dad. You’re Luna’s dad,” I say strongly. “I’m not as scared of you as I think you’d want me to be, but I am absolutely fucking terrified of my family.” My chest collapses, and for the first time, Lo’s jaw untightens. “And I didn’t come here to talk to you about Luna.”

He frowns. “You didn’t?”

I scratch the back of my head, my muscles flexing uncomfortably. “I know some things. About what happened in New York last night.”

His eyes flare in realization. “It was your family.”

“Yeah, and I should’ve told someone sooner, but I thought I’d taken care of it.”

“You knew this would happen?” Lo looks murderous. “To Beckett. And you didn’t think to tell Rose or Connor—”

“No, no,” I cut in hotly, stepping forward. “I didn’t know they’d try to hurt him. They wanted me to steal a painting from his bedroom, and I said, no. They never mentioned hurting anybody. My cousin was just threatening to send you a picture of me at his place—”

“You’ve seen your family. This is great. Just amazing, Paul. What’d you do, bake cookies and pass around a pipe?”

Low blows are something I’m used to meeting. But that one, from her dad, hurts like a kick to the gut.

He’s already wincing. Etchings of regret line his forehead.

“Now you’re a piece of shit,” I say plainly. “There you go. Got what you wanted. And just so you know, I don’t fuck with meth. So no, I didn’t go to get high. I went to threaten my cousin, to tell my family to stop messing with all of you.”

“And how’d that work out?” Lo glares.

It kills me. “I honestly wish I could rewind, but I can’t so I’m trying to do what I should’ve done in the first place.”

“Why didn’t you just come to us in the first place?” Lo questions. “Because you thought we’d fire you? Because you care more about your fucking job than you do about my kids.”

I hang my head, breath caught in my lungs again. My eyes sear, and it hurts to even blink. “Because they’re my family, and it felt like my mess to clean—no matter how much I didn’t want to go back, I did. And I’ll keep going back if it helps keep them away from your family.”

“Or you could quit,” he forces out like it’s right there.

The thing he’s always wanted me to do.

“Go fly to Montana,” he continues. “Go forget about us, forget about your family. Go live out west and commune with fucking buffalo. Live happily elsewhere.”

That last word sucks oxygen out of my body.

“In time, everything could be destroyed, and your knowledge and love could be strewn elsewhere.”

The story Luna wrote me. The Chasm of Elsewhere.

I look down the path, remembering the next line.

“You will be with me for eternity.”

Lo adds, “You’d be safer away from your father.”

“But I wouldn’t be happier away from Philly.”

Away from her. Away from your family, Xander’s dad. I think he knows that it’s more than the city rooting me here.

“I can’t quit.” I look up at him. “Sometimes surviving means being selfish, and I’m not sacrificing everything I’ve worked for and everything I love to live on a fucking dude ranch. No matter if I’m here or if I’m gone, my family will keep circling you, and the way I see it, the best shot you have at handling them is through me. ‘Cause no one knows them better than I do.”

Lo blinks hard, not liking this.

“So you can either fire me or you can use me, but I’m not going anywhere unless you force me to.”

After the longest silent minute of my life, Lo produces a tight half-smile. “Great. This is exactly the team-up I’d been hoping for.”

“Stamp,” I say with no enthusiasm.

He lets out a long, cantankerous sigh and then glances down the trail. Maybe he needs to blow off more steam because he starts jogging again.

I follow.

Tension is still thick, and it’s harder to breathe. But he’s not shoving me into a tree and I haven’t been fired.

We run out of the tree-lined path and onto one that borders the Delaware River. Lo slows at a park bench that rests on the sandy shore.

When he takes a seat, I just sit beside him, and the view steals my thoughts for a second. Across the river, in the hazy morning horizon, is Philadelphia in all her beauty.

“I never really appreciated Philly,” Lo admits. “I resented so much about where I came from. I felt guilty for hating my life, when I was given everything I could ever want.” He works his jaw, still staring out at the skyline. “You came from a place where you were given nothing, but you love this city more, and I didn’t get that. Not until last night.” He looks at me. “You want to know the shittiest thing? I’d hoped you were more like me. Vindictive. Bitter. Cruel. Because then I’d understand you more, but you’re just…”

“Sad?” I guess, not even taking this shit to heart. ‘Cause I know I’m not sad.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know what you are…and even if it fucking sucks admitting this to you, I’m trying not to be a hypocrite. So here’s some honesty from me.” He touches his chest. “I don’t want to get to know you. Not really. You grew up with addicts as parents, and I’m not sure I can handle hearing stories about it.”