Page 48 of Ravaged
But my mind ... my mind is whirling like a ballerina on speed. Questions, so many questions, bombard me. What is he doing here? What does he want? Has he asked her for money? Is she going to fall for his bullshit and let him back in?
That last one—that last one has me fucking terrified.
And angry. At him. At her. And she hasn’t even told me what he wants yet.
“So he knew how to contact you.”
She blinks at me, as if my flat statement and even flatter voice have taken her aback. What did she expect? Me to start smashing dishes or windows? I mean, yeah. She should’ve. My father hasn’t been an easysubject in the past. As a matter of fact, when she’s tried to bring him up, I’ve shut it down with a “Fuck him” and left it at that.
The best thing he did was orgasm and walk away. I don’t need him. And neither does she.
“Yes,” she says, tone wary. “My phone number hasn’t changed in all these years.”
“My point exactly. He knew from the time he walked out that door how to contact you, how to call and get money to you to, I don’t know, help you survive. But hechosenot to. So why now? What does he want?”
“He wants to get to know you,” she murmurs. “And he asked if I would talk to you about it.”
I laugh, and there’s nothing humorous about it. The sound is shards of glass abrading my throat. “I’m sure he did. And the answer is no.”
“Jordan.”
“No,” I repeat harder, harsher. And I never,evertake that tone with her. But then again, she’s never gone to bat for a deadbeat, selfish asshole before. “I don’t owe him a damn thing. And that he would go through you rather than come to me shows what kind of ball-less dick he was. Correction. Still is.”
“Jordan—no.” She slashes a hand through the air, eyes narrowed on me when my lips part. “Don’t interrupt me again. I’m still your mother, and you’re going to listen to me. You don’t have to agree or obey, but you will listenwithoutinterruption.” When I keep quiet, she continues with a heavy sigh. “I get it, Jordan. I do. And you have every right to say no. He wasn’t there for you. Has never been there for you. I’m not asking you to forgive him or even talk to him. I’m only telling you you have an opportunity that a lot of people don’t. To sit down with your father and ask him all the questions you’ve had your entire life. To tell him the effect his absence had on you. To get everything off your chest regarding him. This isnotfor him. I want you to understand that. This is foryou.”
Sounds nice. And for a second, for a quick second, I’m tempted. So fucking tempted.
But then I remember ten years ago.
“When he asked you to arrange this meeting, did he happen to mention he approached me a decade ago?” She frowns, straightens, and I nod. “Yeah, right after I was drafted. He tracked me down to congratulate me. I thought the timing had been a little suspect. After not hearing a word from him for seventeen years, he manages to find me when I’m about to enter the NBA. It could be a coincidence, but I doubt it.”
“You never said anything,” she says, her gaze roaming my face.
“No, I didn’t.” Guilt tries to worm its way through me, but fuck that. I’m not ashamed of protecting her from that bastard. “Because I told him I didn’t want anything to do with him. And that if he came near me again or you, I’d fuck him up. Apparently, ten years has dimmed his memory.”
“Jordan, I’m so sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
I wave away her sympathy; I don’t want it.
I don’t want any part of the pressure that’s ballooning behind my ribs, seeming to bow them out. Not because ofthatman.
“Itdoesmatter. You should’ve told me. Why didn’t you, sweetie?” she asks.
“Becausehedoesn’t matter. He never has.Heleftus. And because he decides to waltz back in like nothing happened? He doesn’t get to upend our lives. No, fuck that.”
“In other words, you were afraid I would go running after him,” she whispers.
“No, Mom,” I lie.
Because, yes, goddammit. Yes. I was afraid of that.
I still am.
“Yes, you are,” she says, her blue eyes sad and so filled with shadows, with shame, that they appear nearly black. “And there’s no need to feel bad for believing that, Jordan. It’s not as if I haven’t given you just cause to fear that’s exactly what I would do.” She sighs, turning away, her hand stroking over her dark hair. “My choices in men over the years have sucked. Your father being no different. Only that he’s the one I actually loved.”
“Mom ...”
