The Best Kind of Forever (Riverside Reapers, #1)(68)

“Uh, thanks, Mom.” I take my suitcase from her hands and set it on the bed.

My mother bumps her hip out, watching me carefully as I start to unpack some of my toiletries.

“I made casserole for dinner. It’s still hot. Do you want some?”

Food sounds great right now, especially since all I ate for lunch was a meager bag of airplane peanuts, but if I fall back into a sense of normalcy with them, I’m not going to be able to keep this trip objective. I’m not here to rebuild relationships or take happy trips down memory lane. I’m here because I have to know the logistics behind Hayes’ whole operation.

“I’m okay. Thanks, though,” I say, despite my empty stomach protesting.

Elaine, still as oblivious as ever, graces me with a smile that looks so much like my own. “Okay. We’ll save you a piece for tomorrow.”

And just like that, she’s gone from the doorway, as if she was never here to begin with—an apparition that only ever existed in my imagination.

I set aside my pajamas for the night, and then an inexplicable cold falls over the room, submerging me in an Ice Age’s worth of snow. The metronomic tick of my heart is the only constant reassuring me that I haven’t entered some kind of catatonic state.

“Aeris.”

My father’s powerful voice sounds from the doorway, grabbing my attention instantly, and I really hope he didn’t notice the way my shoulders jumped.

A gulp clicks its way down my throat. “Sperm donor.”

“Never thought you’d come to visit us,” he chuckles, though that forked tongue of his couldn’t be more incapable of humor.

I slough off the fear that’s no doubt etched into my features. “You know why I’m here,” I snap icily. “I’m not back for you. I’m only here for answers.”

“Of course you are. You’re my daughter. As much as you hate to admit it, we’re more alike than you think.”

My glare has enough venom in it to paralyze a full-grown man, and it’s a look reserved just for my father. “We are nothing alike.”

When my fists clench, I want to cringe from the sting of broken skin on my hands. Oh, God. I wish I could punch him right in the face. I probably would if I was strong enough or had any idea how to throw one.

“How did you know?”

Michael leans against the doorway, blocking the exit. If I had to make a quick getaway, I’d have to crawl out the window and into the gardenias. His size has always intimidated me, and that’s why I’ve been so afraid of what would happen if he were ever to get physically abusive with me.

“About Hayes?” With the way his face is shadowed, all I can see are the whites of his eyes and the glint of his teeth.

“About Hayes.”

“Ethan Blythe, Hayes’ agent, is a member of my country club. I overheard him talking about Hayes’ efforts to rebrand his image. He mentioned something about a sponsor’s daughter and a fake relationship. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but then those pictures of you and him surfaced, and I put the pieces together,” he explains.

“And how do you know who Hayes’ agent is? How do you even know who Hayes is?”

“My buddy I was with at the time, Joshua, is a huge NHL fan, and he follows the sport closely. That bastard even drove all the way down to California for some sponsored event.” There’s a smugness buried in my father’s tone.

Oh my God. Joshua. From the sponsor party. The puzzle pieces were right in front of me, waiting for me to put them together.

“I can’t fucking believe this.”

“I told you so.”

Rage crawls up my spine, the tension in my shoulders deadlocking with each step I take toward him. “God, you’re a fucking piece of work, you know that? Instead of comforting your daughter, you need to rub it in my face. You always need to be right. I shouldn’t have come all this way. The relief of knowing wasn’t worth being ridiculed by you.”

His lips curl back from his teeth in a snarl. “You won’t speak to me in my own house like that. I’m doing you and your mother a favor by letting you stay here.”

A flat laugh drags out of my mouth. “What? Feeling a little emasculated, Michael?”

That sets him off. My father steps into me, forcing me back against the wall, and his arms flings out to cage me on either side. His potent cologne is making me lightheaded, and when his beef jerky breath gusts over my face, I swallow down the panic making my heart rebel against my ribs.

The fire in his voice is just above a flame. “You’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass for twenty-three years. It should’ve been you. You should’ve killed yourself that night. At least Roden wouldn’t have talked back to me.”

It should’ve been you.

Shock is the first thing that hits me. Then grief. And then anger.

The same anger that’s always belonged to my dad is now mine, and no part of me wants to smother that fire-breathing dragon. I push him back with enough force to steal his balance, then I’m the one staring him down.

“You don’t think I wish it would’ve been me? You don’t think I would’ve done anything to go back in time and change what happened that night? You didn’t even cry when he died, or during his funeral. I had to carry all that pain. By myself.”