Defying Destiny (Forsaken Sinners MC Series Book 3) (2 page)

“I’m not sure, Dad. I mean, it’s still a possibility, but I want to see where this takes me first. I figure I could fight for a few years and then re-evaluate where I’m at. Maybe fighting isn’t for me, but maybe being a Marine isn’t, either. How will I ever know if I don’t try?”

I wait for him to think about what I just said and hope that he agrees with me. He always told me to never let anyone dictate my life and to always do what was best for me, what I wanted to do. He’d say I could be anything I wanted to be, and I believe him. But I still want his approval and support. I suspect I’ll always want that, even when I’m old and grey.

He stares at me for a few moments, then he looks down at the table. “I’m proud of you, son. I’m sorry I don’t say that enough, but I am. I know life hasn’t always been easy on you and life can be so hard that sometimes you just want to quit, but you never did—and you never will. I wish I could go back in time and do a few things different so I could have given you a better life and I wish I could have stopped your mother from leaving us. But we can’t go back and change the past. We can only move forward and pray we’ve learned something. So no matter what you choose to do, I’ll be right there with you—to guide you when you are uncertain, stand beside you when you just need someone there, and I’ll walk in the shadows to look after you when you can walk the road of life on your own. I may not have done a lot in my life or have a lot to show for it, but I do have you. You are my one amazing thing in the world and I’m so damn proud to call you my son.”

Listening to him talk has me almost choked up. My dad has always told me he loves me and that he’s there for me and that’s something a son always wants from his father. But hearing those words—that he’s proud of me—does something inside of me. I don’t know if I want to cry or laugh.

The waitress saves me from having to choose when she delivers our food. “Can I get you gentlemen anything else?”

My dad shakes his head and smiles at her, then she walks away.

Still a little flustered, I just stare at my plate. I feel like I should say something, anything, after what he just said, but I have no idea what. I have a billion things rolling around in my head but none of them seem to add up to how I feel.

“It ain’t going to eat itself. Dig in,” he says, then he follows his own advice.

Deciding that my words can wait for another day when I don’t feel so raw, I shake my head and do just as he says.

My steak is cooked perfectly. I practically inhale everything on my plate. It’s not often I get a meal like this and I feel like if I don’t finish it fast, it could all get taken away. I’ve felt that way about a lot of things in my life—that they are too good to be true and it will never last. Most of the time, I’m right. But not this time.

I finish my meal before my dad, but he’s close behind me.

“Damn, that was good. How was your steak, son?”

Leaning back in my seat, I pat my stomach. “Fucking delicious.”

We are both quiet while we digest the good food and wait for the check. I start to think about what I should do tonight. I know there are parties going on because there are parties every Friday night, but I don’t think I could stand being around anyone who frequents those parties. Even with the knowledge that I’ll be leaving this place behind soon and that my life is finally starting to look up for the first time in forever, I won’t risk it. Knowing the fuckers that will be there, someone will say something to piss me off and I won’t be able to stop myself from beating the fuckers down. Yeah, I think I’ll just have dad pick me up a six pack and go find a spot to be alone and start planning for the future.

“You ready to get out of here?” he asks as he stands up.

“Yup.”

My dad slaps me on the shoulder as we walk outside but he doesn’t say anything. Though, he doesn’t need to. This is the happiest I think I’ve ever seen him. And it’s not just because he won the money, though that might be a part of it, but it’s because he’ll be able to give me the life he has always wanted to give me. Little does he know, whether he won that money or not, I’d still be happy. Things would be harder for us, sure, but as long as he was with me and we were living our dreams, it doesn’t matter how long it would take us to get there as long as we get there eventually…or at least do our best trying. Enjoying the ride, that sort of thing.

“Pull into the gas station. I gotta grab a few things, then you can drop me off down the street.” I don’t answer and just watch him while he walks into the store. I see him grab something out of the beer cooler and then walk to the other side of the store where they have the grocery items, pharmacy stuff, and other little odds and ends. Then he makes his way up to the front to pay for everything.

As he walks outside, I see him holding a twelve pack of Bud Light and him stuffing something into his back pocket.

“All right, now remember what I said. I give this to you and you better not drive anywhere or do anything stupid, ya hear?” he says as he gets into the truck.

“Yeah, old man, I hear ya.” I laugh and pull out of the parking lot.

When I park across the street from the local watering hole, he pauses before opening the door and looks back at me. “I love you, Holden.” He doesn’t wait for me to say anything back before he’s out of the truck and walking into the bar.

I have no idea what’s making him say all the things he’s said tonight and there is a part of me that is a little boy again, jumping for joy at the approval from his father. Then there’s the embarrassed teenage boy who can’t find the right words to say back.

I sit in my truck for a few minutes and just think back on everything he’s said tonight. I always knew deep down that my dad loves me and is proud of me, but hearing him say it tonight makes me want to be better—for him. He doesn’t deserve a sulking boy who gets pissed off at the littlest things. Starting tonight, I’m going to be different. I’m going to be the man he’s always taught me to be. From now on, if someone does something that pisses me off, I’m going to turn the other cheek and think about all the things me and my dad are going to do when we leave this place behind.

Putting the truck in drive, I head toward home to drop my truck off. Then I’ll have a couple beers out by the quarry before going to bed. Tomorrow I want to tell my dad all the things I’m sorry for and how I’m going to be better. Then we can talk about the things he wants to do when we leave after graduation. I now understand that it’s not all about me. It’s more than just needing my dad with me on my journey, but wanting to go on a journey
with
him—together. We’ll do things that we both have always wanted to do, but couldn’t.

***

I wake up to the sun heating my face and my back aching. Cracking one eyelid open, I’m blinded by the sun. Closing my eye again, I try to remember where I am and why I’m outside but the last thing I remember was sitting down at the rock quarry and drinking. I must have drank more than I thought and passed out. Shit.

Sitting up slowly, I stretch and open my eyes. It hurts like a motherfucker, but it’s manageable now that I know what to expect.

Looking around, I see the empty twelve pack sitting beside me and crushed beer cans littered everywhere. I usually never drink more than six, but last night they were going down so good, I must have drank the whole damn thing without even realizing it. At least I didn’t get into any trouble and no one found me out here. That would be a bitch to explain where I got the alcohol and would have Dad pissed at me for a long time, let alone willing to buy me beer anytime soon.

Once I’m standing, I’m happy that I’m not hungover. I have a little bit of a headache, but that I can handle. I start picking up the cans and placing them back into the box before starting my walk home. Don’t want to leave any evidence I was here.

It only takes me five minutes before I’m walking through the front door. Not really sure what time it is or what time my dad got home, I try to stay as quiet as possible, but when I walk past his open door, I see that he’s not there.

I head back toward the living room. I look at the couch, thinking maybe I missed him sleeping there when I walked in, but he’s not there either.

Maybe he went somewhere, but I could have sworn his bike was outside. Looking out the window to confirm it is indeed there, I decide to just wait for him. I can’t wait to tell him the revelations I had last night. Not just about wanting to be a better son, but of what I want to do with my life. I thought for sure fighting was what I really wanted, but now I’m not so sure. I still don’t think I want to go to the Marines right away, but I’m keeping that option open for now. What I really want to do is travel with my dad for a while. We could tour the US and see all the places we always dreamed of seeing but never thought it’d be possible. I think California is still where I want to go, but we could move to Canada for all I care.

Heading into my room, I grab some clean clothes and jump in the shower. I think sitting under the hot spray will help ease the pain in my back from sleeping outside last night.

Once I’m done getting dressed, I walk into the living room, checking to see if Dad came home while I was in the shower, but that’s a no-go. I wonder where he is. I hope he’s not out looking for me. Maybe I should text him to tell him I’m home. Digging my phone out of my pocket, I shoot out a quick text.

Me: Hey old man, I’m home. Where are you?

Walking into the kitchen, I look around for something to eat but don’t find much. Shit, we should have gone shopping last night. We have nothing to eat around here. Digging in my pocket, I pull out some cash I had left over from last week when Dad gave me some money for gas, so I decide to head down to the gas station for a slice of pizza or a bag of chips.

Making my way toward my truck, I see a police cruiser pull up. Not sure why they are here, I wait for them in front of my truck. Hopefully no one saw me out at the quarry last night or leaving this morning.

“Holden,” Officer Jacobs says as he stops in front of me.

I can’t read his face so I’ll just have to tread carefully. If he’s not here because of last night, then I’m not telling him.

“Officer. What can I do for you?” I try to sound relaxed and calm. He doesn’t like me very much since that night a few months ago when he was trying to break up a fight and I “accidently” elbowed him in the nose. Fucker got me back by making me spend the night in jail though.

He looks down at his feet while rubbing the back of his head like whatever it is that he needs to say is painful for him. “I need you to come down to the station, son.”

I feel a prickle of irritation at the word “son” when he’s referring to me, but I hold my tongue. New leaf, remember?

“Sure thing. Lead the way.” I go to open my truck door, but he reaches a hand out to stop me.

“I’ll drive.”

I let out a sigh and instead of answering him, I just follow him over to his squad car.

We don’t talk the whole way to the station and I still have no idea why he’s bringing me in. Usually, if he thinks I did something wrong, he would gloat and rub whatever it is in my face—whether I actually did it or not.

He parks on the side of the street right in front of the door. He gets out and waits for me to catch up to him. At least I didn’t have to ride in the back of the cruiser. I feel like a caged dog when that happens. Thank God that’s only happened once. Okay, maybe two or three times. Four, max.

Officer Jacobs leads me to a small office toward the back of the station. When I walk in behind him, he closes the door and sits down behind his desk.

“Please sit down, Holden. I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

Wanting to get this over with as fast as possible so I can get something to eat and find my dad, I sit down and wait patiently.

“It’s about your father.” He pauses and rubs the back of his neck again. Before he can go on, I laugh and shake my head.

“What did the old man do? Public intox? OWI? Or wait, don’t tell me, he got into a bar fight?” I laugh again, thinking about the last option. My dad is usually a mellow guy, but if you push him hard enough he’s one mean sonofabitch. I’ve never seen him in action, but I’ve heard stories and have seen him lose his temper a few times with some of the neighbors. Man, I’m going to have fun giving him shit for this for a long time. He’s never going to live this down.

“Well, yes, there was a fight, but—”

“Maybe I should let him sit in the tank for the day. That’s what he’d do for me.” I laugh again just thinking about his homecoming later tonight.

“Holden. Please, let me finish.”

He waits until he sees that I’m not going to interrupt again, but that doesn’t stop me from laughing on the inside.

“Like I was trying to say before. There was an altercation at the bar your father was at last night. We got a call from the bartender around one this morning. He said there was a group of men fighting in the alley and that it looked like a few of them had weapons. We got there as fast as we could, but by then the fight was already over and everyone was gone. When we went into the alley to take a closer look, we found your father.” He stops again and looks down. I know my dad can handle himself in a fist fight, but knowing there were weapons, it makes me worried. How badly injured is he?