Page 78 of Blackbeard
“The Blackjacks want you gone,” he said.
I expected that. But it still hurt to hear it.
“I’d like the chance to marry my wife properly though,” he added. “If that’s okay with you.”
My breath hitched and I stared at him in disbelief.
“Why would you…?”
“My life was very full before you came along,” he replied. “I didn’t need to be married. I didn’t feel like I was missing anything. But there would be a massive hole in my life if you left now. And I know that I can’t fall in love a third time. It wouldn’t happen. I want you, or no one at all.”
“What about the Blackjacks?” I protested. “They’ve made it very clear they didn’t like you marrying me before. I can’t imagine that sentiment has changed.”
Blackbeard sighed.
“Well, you’re not wrong. It will be a very long road to earn their trust. Some of them may never warm up to you, and you have to be prepared for that. But I’ll make sure that they treat you right as my Old Lady.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek, deliberating. It was a tempting offer. Was I being delusional to consider it though? Blackbeard had endured a lot of tension in his club because of my presence. That would only get worse now that they knew the truth about me.
On the other hand, I didn’t have anywhere else to go. No family, no friends, no club.
But Blackbeard was here beside me. While everyone had turned their backs, he held out his hand with an open invitation.
“Okay,” I said softly. “Take me home.”
I gulped down the wave of nausea boiling at the back of my throat. The blonde wig I wore made my scalp itch, but I resisted the urge to scratch it. I needed my disguise to be convincing. If any officers at the station recognized me as the fake FBI agent, I was done for.
Releasing a steadying breath, I forced myself to stay calm. I sat in the visitor’s booth, waiting for my father to be brought out.
I hadn’t told anyone—not even Blackbeard—that I came here to see Dad. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I needed to handle it on my own. I made this mess. I had to deal with the consequences.
Two minutes later, a security guard led my father to the booth with the glass pane between us. I managed a small, hopeful smile as he took a seat. Dad’s expression remained stony, showing nothing but cold disinterest.
He looked like he’d aged ten years in just five days. Gray stubble, frizzy hair, sallow skin. And that orange jumpsuit wasn’t doing him any favors. He looked so much better, stronger, in his leather cut.
I picked up the phone attached to the wall and waited for Dad to do the same.
He didn’t budge.
I tapped the glass and pointed at his phone.
Dad merely blinked slowly with dead eyes.
I flattened my palm to the glass. He wouldn’t be able to hear me if I tried to talk to him.
Well, this was par for the course. How many times had I been in this exact same position?
He was too busy to pick up the phone. He didn’t have time to call me back. The club kept him busy. The club was his priority.
“I was your sacrifice,” I said. “You claimed that you did all this for me, but…I didn’t care about territory or turf wars. Iwanted my dad. I wanted you to pick up the fucking phone when I called but you didn’t. Just like you’re doing now.”
I gestured, indicating his silence.
“I wanted to save you,” I said. “For what that’s worth. Whether you believe it or not. But the thing is…you never tried to save me. So I chose to save the man who actually loves me instead.”
A muscle twitched in Dad’s jaw. He pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. Glancing over his shoulder, I saw his mouth move as he said something to the guard.
Then he was ushered out of the room. And I hung up the phone in silence.
