Page 35 of Heart of a Hero

“What the hell were you thinking, boy?” Dad’s voice cut through the silence, laced with frustration. “Distancing yourself from the MC, from the life? We’re your family, your blood.”

I met his gaze, my jaw clenching as I tried to rein in my own emotions. “I want to make a difference, Dad. In my own way.”

“And you think being a firefighter, running with the Swift Angels, that’s going to do it?” He shook his head, disbelief etched into the lines of his face.

I stood my ground, refusing to back down. “Yes, I do. I’m not just some outlaw’s son anymore. I’m a man who wants to help people, to save lives. Being a firefighter, being part of the Swift Angels… it gives me that chance.”

Dad’s eyes narrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line. I could see the wheels turning in his head, trying to make sense of my choices. The air between us crackled with tension, years of unspoken words and expectations hanging heavy in the space.

“You think you’re better than us now? Too good for the Dixie Reapers?” His words stung, but I refused to flinch.

“No, that’s not it at all. I’m proud of where I come from, of who I am. But I need to do this, Dad. I need to be a different kind of hero.”

My heart pounded in my chest as I waited for his response, the seconds stretching out like an eternity. I knew I was risking everything, but I couldn’t keep living a lie. I had to be true to myself, to the man I wanted to become.

Dad’s anger seemed to dissipate, his shoulders slumping as he leaned back in his chair. His eyes softened, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. “You’re trying to make a better life for yourself, aren’t you? Not just for you, but for the people around you.”

I nodded, relief flooding through me. “Yes, that’s it exactly. I want to make a difference, to be someone who helps others. I know it’s not the path you chose, but it’s the one I need to take.”

Dad sighed, running a hand over his beard. “I get it, son. I may not like it, but I get it. I’ve made my share of mistakes, and I don’t want you to follow in my footsteps. Not if it means you’ll end up with the same regrets I have.”

His words caught me off guard, a lump forming in my throat. I’d never heard him admit to having regrets before, never seen him so vulnerable. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve done things I’m not proud of, Dawson. Things that haunt me to this day. I thought I was doing what was best for the club, for our family. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe I should have been a better father, a better husband.”

The weight of his confession hung in the air between us, a moment of raw honesty that I’d never experienced with him before. I swallowed hard, my own fears and doubts rising to the surface.

“I’m scared, Dad. Scared that I’m making the wrong choice, that I’m not cut out for this. What if I fail? What if I let everyone down?”

“You’re not going to fail, Dawson,” Dad said. “You’re stronger than you think, and you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. Trust your instincts, and don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t do this.”

“That means a lot, coming from you.” I took a deep breath, my palms damp with perspiration. “I… I want to thank you and Mom for everything you’ve done for me over the years. Your love and support have meant the world to me.”

Dad leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The lines etched into his face seemed deeper than I remembered, a testament to the hard life he’d lived. Not to mention he was pushing seventy now. “You’re our son, Dawson. Of course, we love and support you. But…”

His words trailed off, the unfinished thought hanging between us like a guillotine blade ready to drop. I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. I knew what he wanted to say, the questions burning in his piercing gaze.

“I know I’ve made choices you don’t agree with. Becoming a firefighter, joining the Swift Angels… You already made that clear.”

Dad’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening. I braced myself for the explosion of anger I’d seen so many times before, the fury of a man who demanded loyalty above all else. Not that he’d ever laid a hand on me, Mom, or my sisters. Didn’t mean the man couldn’t yell like a champion, though.

But instead, he surprised me. “I know you’re trying to forge your own path, son. It’s just… hard for me to accept sometimes. The Dixie Reapers, this life… it’s all I’ve ever known. Honestly, before your mom, it was all I wanted. She changed me in some ways, and I’m sure Nora and the kids will change you too.”

Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes as I saw the vulnerability in my father’s face, a side of him he rarely showed. I bit back the emotion, knowing he wouldn’t take kindly to it. In that moment, I realized beneath the tough exterior and the outlaw persona, he was just a man trying to protect his family the only way he knew how. He’d wanted me to grow up and be a Reaper like him because it had given him everything he’d wanted in life. But the same wasn’t true for me.

I reached out, placing my hand on his rough, callused one. “I love you, Dad. And I promise, no matter what path I choose, I’ll always be your son. Nothing will ever change that. I’ll always remember the things you’ve taught me and appreciate all the sacrifices you’ve made for me over the years. My being part of the Swift Angels and being a firefighter wasn’t intended as an insult to you. It was just my way of…”

“Being yourself?”

I nodded. Dad’s hand twitched beneath mine, and for a moment, I thought he might pull away. Instead, he gripped my fingers tightly, his eyes searching my face as if trying to memorize every detail.

“I just want you to be happy, Dawson. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you and your sisters.” His voice was gruff, but I could hear the emotion behind his words. “I may not always understand your choices, but I’ll always support you.”

Relief washed over me, and I felt the tension that had been coiled in my chest begin to unwind. “Thank you, Dad. That means more to me than you know.”

We sat in silence for a few moments, the weight of our conversation hanging in the air between us. I knew our relationship would never be perfect, that there would always be a part of my father that longed for me to follow in his footsteps. But I realized his love for me transcended any differences we might have.

As I looked around the familiar living room, my gaze fell on a framed picture of our family, taken years ago when Mariah, Farrah, and I were just kids. We were all smiling, our faces filled with the carefree innocence of youth. I knew no matter how much time passed or how far I strayed from the path my father had laid out for me, that love would always be there, binding us together.

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