Fallen Crest Home (Fallen Crest High #6)(47)

“Dad,” I said, my voice a hoarse whisper. “Don’t.”

“It was when she was with Strattan,” Steven continued. “She was with almost all of us. You had to have known, James.”

James was shaking. If Mason hadn’t been holding him back, he would’ve been on Adam’s dad again. Adam and Mason looked strained and tense, alert for any other attacks. No one was paying my dad or me any attention.

“I don’t care if it was when she was with David. You don’t talk about her like that!” James yelled.

My dad turned and left, as silently as he’d come.

I looked back, and Mason met my gaze. When he saw David’s retreating back, he nodded. That was all the permission I needed. I hightailed it out of there, hurrying after my dad. I ran across Nate on my way, and ignoring what he started to say, I pointed to where I’d come from.

“Mason needs your help. I gotta handle something of my own.”

“But—”

I was already gone.

I found my dad in the parking lot, weaving through the vehicles to find his. He wasn’t even waiting for the valet. “Dad! Wait.”

He was close to his truck when he turned around, keys in his hand. “Honey, I’m okay.”

I searched his face, unsure if that was true or not. I saw some strain, but for the most part, he looked like his usual loving self.

I swallowed a knot in my throat. “Are you sure?”

“I made my peace with what your mother did long ago. I left because that fight isn’t mine anymore. Whatever Analise did in the past, it’s in the past. I have you, and I have Malinda. That’s all I need.”

“And Mark.”

“And Mark.” He nodded. “You’re right. I’m proud to have him as a son.”

David Strattan wasn’t my biological father, but he was my dad in every other sense of the word. I realized now that neither of his children was biological.

I frowned. “Dad…” Could I ask what I wanted to ask? Was it even my business?

“Sam?”

“Can Malinda still have children?”

“Oh, Sam.” He pulled me in for a hug. “I know what you’re thinking, and I don’t need children of my own. Your stepmom and I have talked about children, but if we decided to have them, we wouldn’t go the biological route. We’d adopt. She went through menopause early. She can’t have any more children.”

“I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head. “It’s not for you to worry about. It’s not even for you to think about. There was a time I wanted my own child, but I had you, and those were the days when I worried whether Analise would even let me keep you as a daughter. You were enough for me. Then I was lucky and got Malinda and Mark, too. I have a daughter and a son, and two more stepchildren with Mason and Logan—four if you count Nate and Matteo. I’m very blessed.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am.” He hugged me again. “You should go make sure Mason’s okay. Steven’s a nasty drunk. I have no doubt he’ll start ribbing Mason about you. That’s what he does. He searches for a person’s weakness and pushes on it. He already knows Mason and James’ weaknesses: the women they love. That was another reason I left. If Quinn had started in about you, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

“Oh.” Well, fuck. New alarms sounded in me. “Yeah, I should head back then.”

But when I got there, the two fathers were gone. Adam and Mason remained, and Nate right next to them.

I approached, unsure if I was still needed. “Everything okay now?”

“Sam.” Adam’s chest rose with his head. The regret in his eyes mixed with anger. “I’m sorry for what my dad said. I didn’t know you heard any of that until Nate came out, but he was drunk. No. That’s no excuse. He… I know you think I was coming at you guys earlier, but I wasn’t.”

“Jeff said you’re going into politics,” I said.

“I’m hoping, but with my dad how he is…” He motioned in the direction Steven Quinn must’ve gone. “I don’t know if that’s a possibility. I’m getting ready to take over the family company if he doesn’t stop drinking, and you never know. Maybe he’ll end up going to rehab, too.” His eyebrows pushed together. “Where’s the one your mom went to again? We might need a good referral.”

“Is that what you think?”

“Hmmm?” His head tilted. With his hands in his pockets, his body half-turned away from me, it came off like he was distracted.

Was he? Was that why he was asking for the wrong information?

“My mom wasn’t a drunk. Is that what you think?”

“I’m sorry. What?” He turned to face me, his hands still in his pockets.

Adam knew my mom wasn’t a drunk. I said, “You just asked where my mom went to rehab, like your father would go there for his drinking.” I waited. Would he realize his mistake? “You were there, Adam. I talked to you about her. I confided in you.”

And I waited.

Then I saw it. Realization filtered over his face, followed by regret, and then sympathy. “Sam, I’m so—”

I waved that off, shaking my head. “Sorry. I know. I heard you. My mom wasn’t a drunk and a junkie. She wasn’t an addict at all. She has a mental disorder, and she went to intensive therapy for it. I could tell you where she went, but I don’t think that’s where you’d want to send your dad, if you’re actually going to send him somewhere.”