The Summer Deal (Wildstone #5)(64)

“Since when has it ever bothered you what anyone thought of you? Did you at least tell her all of it? That you also know where your dad is, the dad you two share?”

“Of course I didn’t! Look, I didn’t start off this story by saying I’d made smart decisions tonight! I realize I’ve kept three big secrets from her: the whole me being sick thing, us being sisters, and our dad. And for the record, I never intended to keep that last a secret. But I know the truth—that she’ll hate me even more when she finds out about him, and my history with him, that he lived with us a few times on and off. So I have to swallow my urge to come clean, because that’s for me. Not telling her . . . well, that’s for her. Especially after hearing some of her story tonight. There’s no way I’ll ever let her meet that asshole. Her ex conned her, Deck. She has no idea how easily her father would do the same if given a chance.”

Some of his irritation seemed to fade, replaced by concern. “I know you went and saw him for his birthday a few weeks ago,” he said. “That it was the first time in years. But you said it went fine and you didn’t want to talk about.”

She plopped back onto the couch. “Still don’t.”

“Kins.” He crouched at her side and looked into her face in that way he had of seeing her, really seeing her. “What did he do?”

She sighed. “I’ve told you about him. He comes off all sweet and affable and charming. But . . .” She shook her head. “Just like always, I let him fool me. He always does that and I think, hey, it’s all going to be okay, and then . . .”

“What did he do?”

Instead of answering, she closed her eyes. “Am I really so difficult and hard to love?”

“Oh, Kinsey.” He pulled her into him. “Loving you has been the easiest thing I’ve ever done. And I bet if you asked Eli or Max, or any of the kids you’ve taken care of at work, they’d say the same.”

She drew in a deep breath of pure Deck. She hated to correct his emotional declaration with some cold, hard facts, but that’s exactly what she had to do. “Everyone loves chocolate milk. Until it expires, and then it’s over. It doesn’t matter how much people love it . . . it’s still gone.”

He wrapped a fist in her hair and tugged lightly, tipping her face up to his. “Are you comparing yourself to expired chocolate milk?”

“Yes!” She gave him a little push for emphasis. “I’m the expiring chocolate milk!”

He was looking pretty ticked off now. Quite the feat, making the man with infinite patience run out of that infinite patience. “I should be pretty fucking insulted that you think I’d actually walk away from you because you’ve got a medical condition that you can’t control,” he finally said. “But I get how you grew up, how the people who should’ve loved you let you down, so I know you’re speaking from hard-earned experience, but let me say it again. None of that shit matters to me.”

She shook her head. “You have to say that. You want to sleep with me.”

His mouth tightened. “You’re tired and upset, so I’m going to do us both a favor and pretend you didn’t just say that. Tell me what your father did, Kinsey.”

“He wanted to know the current going rate for one of his kidneys.”

“Jesus.” He dropped his head for a moment and studied his feet while the air crackled with tension. But as always, he got ahold of himself, and by the time he looked at her again, all she could see was steady, stoic Deck. “He’s not a potential donor, you already knew that.”

Yes, she’d known it since the day he’d actually shown up for one of her birthdays. Her fifteenth. He hadn’t been around for a few years at that point, and he’d told her there at her party that he’d been out of rehab for only a few weeks. She’d had no idea at the time what he’d been addicted to—drugs or alcohol, it hadn’t mattered. Either left him out of the running to give her a kidney, ever.

“I wish I was a match,” Deck said with a fierce quiet, volumes of emotion behind those six words.

She shook her head, grateful he wasn’t. “I’ve told you, I’m never again going to take a kidney from someone still using it.”

“Why would you deny someone who wants to save your life?”

“You know why!” She jumped to her feet and paced the room, frustrated he didn’t get it, that no one got it.

“Your donor’s death wasn’t on you.”

Logically, she got that. But emotions weren’t logical. And neither were hopes and dreams. All she’d ever wanted was a fix that wouldn’t involve putting anyone else at risk. The only reason she’d allowed herself to be on a list for a kidney was because, in most of those cases, a kidney would come in because someone unfortunately no longer had a need for it. She knew that no one understood this, but she didn’t care. Because what they also didn’t understand was how it’d felt knowing that not only had she wasted someone’s good kidney when her body had rejected it, but that the process of donating had killed him. “I’ve held a lot back from you,” she said. “I admit that. It seems I’d rather choke on my words than let you see me vulnerable. But God, I’m so tired of being so vulnerable,” she whispered.

“Ah, Kins.” He pulled her back into him, pressed his jaw to the top of her head. “Being vulnerable isn’t a sign of weakness. It’s a sign of strength. But even if that wasn’t true, you’re not alone.”