Malcolm flinched, and his bared his teeth in a snarl.
“You’re going to yell at me about family when you’re running around behind everyone’s back with the man who destroyed yours?”
Abbie shook her head, letting out a frustrated groan.
“He has nothing to do with this. You’re deflecting your shit onto someone else, just like you always do.”
“Like hell he has nothing to do with this,” Malcom shouted. “You’re going to let him waltz back into your life like you’re some cheap whore he can use and then discard? For thesecondtime? You’re smarter than that.”
“Dad,” Abbie said, and I watched the blood drain from her face. All the anger vanished from her body, replaced by dread. “Don’t talk like that.”
Malcolm sat up straighter in the bed, raising a pointed finger at his daughter. I acted on instinct, stepping in front of Abbie, as if I could also shield her from the emotional blows her father landed.
“You know how those military men are, Abbie. You’re not stupid. You’ve never been an idiot, so why are you acting like one now? Because he came back and gave you his sob story about how his uncle was horrible to him, as if that somehow excuses the mess he left you in? I raised you better than that.”
“Dad, please,” she whispered.
“And you.” He turned his attention back toward me, eyes blazing. “Don’t think I’ll ever forget that you pulled your little stunt mere days after they buried mywife.”
I inhaled sharply, but I forced myself to meet his gaze. I could handle whatever bullshit he wanted to throw my way. In this moment, Malcolm was just like every other addict I’d ever worked with. He was going through the initial stages of withdrawal. Angry, scared, and terrified; he dreaded the prospect of never having alcohol again. He was lashing out at everyone to get them to cave.
I was no stranger to this. Malcolm had hurled insults at Abbie in drunken rages for years now, but attacking her sense of judgment was a new low, even for him.
“Your mother would be ashamed of you if she were here,” Malcolm said, and Abbie crumpled. Tears streamed down her face as she swayed on her feet. That was a step too far, and based on the way Malcolm seemed to recoil slightly at Abbie’s reaction, he knew it too.
“You can be mad,” I said, taking a step forward. I slid past Abbie, who had wrapped her shaking arms around her body, her eyes boring holes into the floor. “You can be angry that you’ve dug yourself into a hole you can’t drink your way out of. You can feel scared about facing all of the shit you’ve buried so deep—and having to do it sober. But you don’t get to take it out on her,” I said. I leaned over his hospital bed, making sure he had no choice but to meet my eyes.
“She’s been your emotional punching bag for long enough. Throw whatever you want at me, tough guy. I can take it. But leave her out of this.”
“You’re just as much of a shitbag as your uncle was,” Malcolm seethed. “Get out.”
I paused, still invading Malcolm’s space as I glanced over my shoulder at Abbie, waiting for her to decide what she wanted to do here.
“Get out!” he roared. I fully turned to Abbie, who was staring at her father with such a sorrowful expression that it made my chest tighten. I wrapped my fingers around her arm and pulled her out with me.
“I’m so sorry,” Abbie said as soon as we were in the hallway. The door to Malcolm’s room slammed shut behind us with a loud thud. “I didn’t think . . . he’s never—I didn’t expect that.”
“He’s acting brashly because he’s scared. I’m honestly glad he is.”
Abbie’s eyes flared brightly.
“You’re glad that my father is acting like that?”
“That came out wrong,” I said. “I meant that it’s common for addicts to lash out at loved ones when they come face-to-face with reality. That he’s angry can sometimes be a good sign. It means he hasn’t given up completely, that he still cares.”
“Right,” Abbie said, her jaw twitching in annoyance. “I forgot that you’re a professional.”
“I don’t know if that was a reference to my job or to my past struggles, but I promise you I’m not trying to overstep. I just want to help.”
“We don’t need your help, Connor.”
We. The word clanged through me.
“What he said to you was awful, but he’s still your dad. I know you love him despite the mistakes he’s made. Out of all the people in your life, I know that. Don’t push me out. Not now.”
“You know, I’d actually deluded myself into thinking that we could do this.”
My face fell. My mouth hinged open, as if I could stop what I knew would come next from happening.