Page 18 of Penance
“Come to be a delivery boy again?” I ask, not bothering to hide myresentment. Logically, I know it isn’t his fault, but it’s hard not to blame the messenger when they are the only ones around.
“You know I didn’t want to do it, Theo. I care about Tanner, too. I was around to see the toll your ex-wife took on his mental health, but those papers were going to be delivered whether by my hand or someone else’s.”
I sigh, scrubbing my hand down my jaw, the scruff on it longer than it was this morning. “I know. It’s just been a long day.”
Hayes nods, and silence settles around us as I shove my hands in my pockets and stare out across the street. I don’t know why Hayes is here now. He did his job, but I don’t have the energy to ask him. So I stand there, waiting for him to get to the point.
“Look, I can help,” he says, reaching up and scratching the side of his neck.
“No.”
I start to walk away before he has a chance to stop me. Whatever this is, I’m not doing it with him, mainly because it sets my teeth on edge to be in his presence. He’s a blaring reminder of how much I’ve failed as a dad.
“I wasn’t really asking,” Hayes says, his deep voice carrying through the early summer breeze. “You may not consider us friends, but we both care about your kid. So get in the truck, Theo, because it seems to me that doing it on your own isn’t working so well for you.”
My steps slow until my feet are frozen to the pavement beneath me. My shoulders are tense, and each breath I take is loud inside my head.
I hate Hayes. I hate this situation, and most of all, I hate that he’s right.
I’d lost the last time I tried to win this battle alone. Then, I spent a good portion of my life trying to drown that loss out with alcohol. This is my chance to make things right—be there for my kid when he needs me—and if that means making nice with Hayes in themeantime, then I guess that’s what I will do.
My jaw is clenched as I slowly force my feet to move and turn around.
Hayes is already standing at his driver’s side door, smirking at me over the top of his car.
“Not a word, Miller.” I threaten him, and his smirk grows bigger.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Sylvis.” He says the words, but I don’t miss the humor in his voice as I open the door and get in his car.
Hayes slides in on his side, and within a minute, we are heading down the highway to wherever he is taking me.
“Do you know there’s a blood vessel in your temple that pops out when you’re around me?” Hayes asks, pure glee in his voice as if pleased with himself for putting it there.
“Do you know that I find you highly annoying?”
Hayes shrugs, keeping both hands on the wheel as he drives.
“You say annoying. I say engaging.”
“Can we go back to when you didn’t like me?” I grumble, staring straight ahead.
A year ago, Hayes hated my guts. He thought I was after his girl, and I thought he was a condescending idiot. Turns out we were both wrong about each other, but that still doesn’t mean I like him.
“Nah. What would be the fun in that? I wouldn’t be able to get under your skin. That’s much more satisfying. Besides, I have a feeling wearegoing to be friends one day.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” I say, rubbing my hand over my forehead where a headache is forming. “Or better yet—do and let me know how that goes for you.”
______________________
Hayes stops in front of a brick house, and I cock a brow. “Where are we?”
“The place I’m taking you. Now come on,” he says, grabbing aStyrofoam cup from the cup holder and getting out of the car before I can come up with an equally smart remark.
“I was wrong,” I grumble to myself, pulling on the door handle and following Hayes out of the car. “It won’t be my kid who causes me to go gray. It will be you.”
If Hayes heard me, he doesn’t show it besides the signature smirk that always seems to be on his face, which only irritates me more, but despite my irritation, I still follow him up the front stoop to a white door with chipping paint.
Hayes raises his hand and knocks, then covers his eyes. The situation is so strange that all my worries take a back seat for a second.
