Asa
Page 61

 Jay Crownover

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
I gritted my teeth and breathed out hard through my nose. “What happens is you get your act together. You help her through this breakup because I know she’s confused and hurting. You convince her that she deserves better than me, and you know that if I ever catch wind of you doing anything as fucking stupid as offer to pay a stranger for sex again, I’ll tell Royal everything, and if she won’t listen to me, I’ll tell Dom. He’ll watch you like a hawk and you won’t be able to move without him keeping eyes on you to make sure you don’t do anything so stupid again. Royal will never forgive you and Dom will never let it go, and we both know it. Your daughter loves you but what you’re doing is dangerous and unforgivable. It will be the final straw. She’s already over how you behave around the men in your life as it is. Get it together or lose her.” It was a threat that I would have no trouble and zero remorse about following through on, and I made sure she could tell that when she finally looked up to meet my gaze.
“Why? Why are you doing this when you could tell her the truth instead? Why give me a second chance when you could throw me under the bus and live happily ever after with her?”
I growled at her because I really just wanted her gone. “I’m doing this because she has loved you longer than she’s loved me. I’m doing it because Royal needs her mom more than she needs a boyfriend, and I’m doing it because I never thought I could walk away from the ultimate prize if I had it. I’m doing it because it’s the right thing to do.” And goddammit, me doing the right thing without hesitation had never been an option before Royal.
And that was all there was to it. I walked away from Roslyn and honestly hoped I never had to see her again. I didn’t wait to see if she got up and left. I just went about my business like a zombie for the rest of my shift … and the shift after that … and the shift after that.
Another week had passed when Rome finally pulled me into the back office and told me to take a few days off. I told him the last thing I needed was time by myself to think. He told me it wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order. I told him to fuck off and things devolved pretty rapidly from there. I didn’t really remember him strong-arming out of the Bar and calling me every name he could think of. I didn’t recall him knocking me upside the head hard enough that my ears were ringing. What I did remember bright and clear was him telling me to pull my head out of my ass before he really had to hurt me, and that was enough to spur me into action and get me headed back home.
I spent several days wallowing in a drunken haze while lying in my lonely and empty bed. Who would have ever thought doing the right thing felt a hundred times worse than doing the wrong thing ever did?
I was in the shower trying to wash off the vestiges of a stupor and wondering if I was always going to feel so empty when I heard my phone ring from the other room. Considering all my friends and allies were pissed off at me or purposely giving me space, I couldn’t stop my traitorous heart from thinking it might be Royal. Even if I wouldn’t give in to temptation and answer her call, I’d still look at her pretty face on the screen while my phone sang the Black Angels’ “You’re Mine” and trashed my heart even more.
I was rubbing water off of my face with another towel when I found the phone and stopped dead in my tracks when the face on the screen wasn’t the one I wanted to see but one that I hadn’t seen in so long I almost forgot what it looked like. I sat my ass on the edge of the bed and answered the call with a terse “What kind of trouble are you in, Mom?” I had had enough of mothers to last me a lifetime the last month or so.
It sounded like she was at a truck stop. The background noise was full of wind, horns blaring, and engines revving.
“None. Why is that always the first thing you ask me?” Her drawl was twice as thick as my own and I always asked her that question because the only time I heard from her was when she needed something or was in trouble. I guess the apple didn’t fall very far from that tree.
“Where are you?” I grumbled out the question and flopped back on the bed so that I was staring at the ceiling. I had spent a lot of lost hours in this exact same position over the last few days.
“Outside of Chicago. Listen, I just got a call from the Kentucky Department of Corrections.”
Well, that couldn’t amount to anything good. “About what?”
She screamed something that I couldn’t make out and then came back on the line. “About your father.”
My father was like a ghost story. Something I had heard about my entire life, some specter that existed in theory and used to scare me when I didn’t act right, but there was no actual, tangible proof that he was a real, living, breathing human being.
“What about him? Is he finally up for parole and looking for character witnesses?” I said this ironically considering I had never met the man, and if my illustrious past was anything to go by, I got all of my worst character traits from his side of the genetic pool. He could rot behind bars forever as far as I was concerned.
“Asa!” My mom snapped my name and then moved off to somewhere where she wasn’t battling the background noise to be heard. “Your dad has been sick for a long time.”
I knew I was supposed to feel something at those words, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what the feeling was supposed to be. “Okay.”
She sighed and said my name again. “Your dad passed away in the prison hospital last night. He had a massive heart attack. There was nothing anyone could do for him.”
Again I wasn’t sure how any of that was supposed to make me feel or what kind of reaction she was looking to get out of me. “Okay.”
My mom swore and I actually heard her tapping her foot impatiently on the other end of the phone line.
“Asa, you’re his only kin. Your dad never married and his parents passed away years ago. Your dad was an only child, so that means you need to go to Kentucky and settle his affairs.”
I groaned and used my free hand to grind it into my eye sockets. “Mom, he was locked up for over thirty years. What kind of affairs could he possibly have? Let the state sort it all out. I’m not interested in going back there.” Especially not for a man I had never met. The man I would have turned into if fate and a bunch of pissed-off bikers hadn’t turned it all around for me.
“You should know better than that, son. Even the most troubled soul has someone out there to love it. Your father might have made some serious mistakes, but his family never turned their backs on him. They owned a beautiful farm right outside of Woodward that your dad grew up on. Since he’s gone, the land and everything on it will pass down to you.”