Page 88 of Stupid Dirty

He looks shocked. I’ve never spoken to him like this in my life, and it’s obvious he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“I’m your family, Silas. You had me.”

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath in through my nose, while the pain in my head continues to throb in time with my pulse.

“Stop the car.”

“What?”

Now I’m the one who’s growling. “Stop the fucking car before I throw you out of it.”

Cursing under his breath, Dad pulls the truck onto the dirt shoulder of the long stretch of blacktop we’re on. Thankfully, it’s the middle of nowhere, so there’s no one to see our abrupt, mid-highway stop.

Once the truck comes to a rest, the only sounds I hear are the tick of the cooling engine and both of us breathing heavily, while Dad stares at me with wild eyes.

“Silas, what is going on?”

I look him in the eye and keep my voice steady, so he knows I’m serious. “I’m not coming.”

“What? Where?”

“To Canada. You should go and start fresh. You have friends there, like you said. But I’m not coming. I’m staying in Possum Hollow. In fact, you can go wherever the fuck you want, but I want Possum Hollow to myself.”

“Silas, you can’t—”

“I can.” I cut him off before he can spew whatever bullshit he’s about to. “I know you mean well, but I’m an adult and I can take care of myself. Keep my bike, keep my money. All I want is the house and Possum Hollow.”

There’s a long pause while he keeps looking at me like he can’t figure out if I’m kidding, and the reality of the situation breaks in. I fucking hate him. But he’s still my dad. He saved my life, once.

My whole body sags, and I look at him with whatever scrap of affection that still exists between us written on my face. “Please, Dad. I know you hate it there, just like you hate babysitting me. You should be able to start over. So should I. Let’s just finally let it go, okay?”

He swallows. His eyes are more red-rimmed than before, and I can see him warring with himself on how to handle this. I’m sure a huge part of him wants to do what he always does and tell me to obey. But I can also see how tired he is.

“This is really what you want?”

“Yeah, Dad. Take the money and start over. I’ll be fine.”

In the moment where he makes up his mind, he softens, and he seems to age right in front of me. I pull my duffel bag out of the back seat, not wanting to drag this out any longer than I have to in case he changes his mind.

“You sure you don’t want to take the bike? You love that thing,” he says softly, still looking shocked.

“No, you love that thing. I think I’m actually done.” I nod as I say it, and it feels true. A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.

I open the door, clambering down from the cab into the dirt. My backpack is slung over my shoulder and I have a duffel bag full of my clothes. Everything else in that truck belongs to him. I don’t need any of it.

“How are you going to get back?” he asks before I can close the door.

“I’ll get a ride.”

We look at each other. Neither of us moves until I finally let the door close with a softsnick. He sits there for a few more minutes, and I can see him going back and forth over something in his head.

In the end, he gives me one last look, then puts the truck in drive and pulls back onto the highway. I stand there by myself, watching him disappear. My bike on the back gets smaller and smaller until it’s just a black dot that vanishes over the horizon.

Once the adrenaline and emotion have finally run their course, I let myself pull out my phone to make the call. I only hope he answers, or I’m fucked.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

My fingers have kept up an anxious staccato on the steering wheel for the entire drive here. I keep forcing myself to unclench the muscles in my jaw and neck, as if physically relaxing will somehow make this moment less precarious. Thank God I managed to keep my hands off the whiskey, or it would be Wish driving me right now and I’d have even less to distract myself with.

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