Malice’s dad shrugs. “It’s up to him.”
Holy hell, the man’s voice is deep.
“What do you think I’m going to say, huh?” Malice sneers.
“Do you still blame me?” his dad asks.
All eyes are on Malice. Blame him for what?
“I’d be a dumb fuck to blame you for her death, wouldn’t I?” he leers. “But yeah, I still blame you for the fact I left, for what happened after that.”
“What did happen?” His father leans forward, and I feel myself shrink back, despite the fact I’m half a room away. “If you’d bothered to keep in touch I might have known.”
“And done what? You didn’t give two shits about your only child, you asshole. What would you have done, huh? You tell me.”
“I don’t know, but we sure as fuck wont find out like this.”
“You still as selfish, and fucking in denial as you were back then?” Malice tips his chin up in defiance.
The air in the room crackles with the building anger between the two. Ty readies his stance, for who knows what, but it doesn’t look good.
“Pot, kettle isn’t it, Son? Who’s in denial now?”
“Fuck you.”
“I’m your fucking father,” he roars. “Don’t you dare speak to me like that, you little prick.”
“Fuck. You. Dad.”
Chairs fly, the table teeters, and the two of them go head to head like a pair of crazed dogs. Hands fist in shirts, and teeth are bared. Rocco goes mental at the back door, and I move to ease him.
“Cut it out!” Bronx yells. “This sure isn’t going to sort anything.”
Malice’s dad releases his grip, and pushes his son back with an unnecessary flick of the wrists. Malice stumbles, and looks set to have another go when Ty wraps his arms around him.
Rocco settles as Malice’s dad paces the room. He runs his hands though his hair, and shakes his head. “Losing the love of your life isn’t something I hope you’ll ever understand, boy. Fuck, for all I know you’ve been there.” He throws his hands in the air. “But shit, kid. She was my world. She was my everything, and she got fucking taken from me without so much as a goodbye. You know what cuts me up the most?”
Malice still glares.
“She went in terror. Your mom was scared out of her fucking mind, and I wasn’t there to protect her. I wasn’t there to tell her she’d be okay, to keep her from pain, to put myself in harm’s way instead of her. I tortured myself over that for years.”
Malice’s face softens, and he looks somewhat subdued. My heart aches hearing the pain in his father’s voice, and I wonder how he can remain so stoic though it all.
“Yes, I should have done more for you, been there for you, put you before me. But damn, Alice, all I wanted was to die so I could be with her again. Even today, I wish like hell I could hold her one more time, tell her I love her, show her the man her son’s grown up to be. But at least now I can keep those feelings in check, think of her without losing my mind.” He draws a deep breath, and fiddles with a loose thread on the bottom of his shirt.
“It hurts, and I regret everything I did from the day she died to the day you left. But I moved on. We all need to move on. I found a place that I felt welcome, and people who picked me up when I fell into the bottom of a bourbon bottle, hoping to drown. I found a new home.”
“So why are you here if you have a ‘new home’?” Malice still frowns, but he looks genuinely curious at the same time.
I think the whole room is waiting to hear what he says.
“Because I still don’t have it all. I don’t have my son; my blood. And that hurts more than waking every day to find your mother is still dead, and it’s not a nightmare. I can’t change what happened to her, but I can change this.” He gestures between them, and watches Malice for an answer.
Ty lets go, and steps back. Malice eyes the floor, silence shrouding the room.
“I don’t know.”
I can see it. He’s shutting down, blocking it out, and pushing his father away. Not again. He can’t keep doing this to himself. I cross the room, and feel his father’s eyes on me as I step up to Malice and take his head in my hands.
“Don’t punish yourself,” I whisper.
His hands cover mine, and he nods slowly. A deep sigh lifts his shoulders, and he hums. “I wouldn’t do this if it weren’t for you.”
“I want you to be happy, and holding this grudge will only bring you down.” I let go, and step back. The outcome is up to him, and all I can hope is that he chooses the right one.
Malice lifts his head, and pins his father with a look that screams ‘last chance’. “You still haven’t said the one thing I wanted to hear from you back then.”