Ransom(105)

He holds up his hands. “I know. Your brothers have all told me the same thing, and I get it. I really do. My own excuse is that I was worried about you. Like I said, it’s hard to be a single dad, hard to know what your kids need. I… I’m sorry.”

I wouldn’t have been more shocked if he told me he was leaving to go join the circus. I don’t think my father had ever apologized to me. “Uh, thanks. Thank you for saying that.”

He shoves his hands into his pockets. “I felt really guilty for a long time, Daltrey, feeling like I had failed you boys. That I was… I was the reason she left. And I knew how hard it had to be, especially for you.” Something spasms across his face. “You were so little.”

“Dad—”

“And I knew I couldn’t give you what you needed. I couldn’t give you that mother’s love. I felt so damn bad about it, son. So I tried really hard to be good at the things I could do—providing for you, guiding you in your careers.”

“You did great with all that,” I say, my voice suddenly thick.

“But you still needed someone to love you,” he says, shaking his head. “I never got it, I guess, that Daisy gave that to you.”

“You gave us love too, Dad.”

He looks at the floor. “But I wasn’t good at showing it. I’m glad you had someone who was.” He looks up at me. “Good at showing it, I mean. I’m glad you had Daisy.”

“I’m glad I had both of you.”

“So,” he says, looking up and giving me a shaky smile, “drive carefully, okay? If you get into any trouble with photographers or anything, just call.”

I nod. “Sure.”

He stares at me for a long moment before finally turning. “Okay. Well, I have some work to do before the show. We’re, uh, planning a band meeting in a week.”

“A week?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, I figure all you boys could use some time off before we start rehearsing for the VMAs.” He meets my eyes. “But if you’re not ready in a week, we’ll play it by ear, okay?”

I shake my head, kind of overwhelmed by the change in him. I wonder if he could sense how close I was to walking. There were moments in the last week where I came close. Maybe that finally scared some sense into him. Or maybe he just finally really realized how much I needed this.

“Have a good show, son.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

He nods once before he pulls open the door and disappears into the hallway. I sit heavily on the bed, trying to wrap my mind around everything he said. That was as close to a heart to heart as we’ve ever gotten. And it wasn’t even that hard.

There’s another knock, and I squeeze my eyes shut, praying he hasn’t come back to ruin it. I walk back to the door and open it, ready for a fight, only to see Daisy standing there.

It takes me a good long moment before I can speak. I’m sure I look ridiculous, staring at her while I open and close my mouth, willing sound to come out.

“Can I come in?”

I nod. “Of… of course you can,” I finally manage.

She squeezes past me, close enough that I can smell the familiar earthy scent of her shampoo. It makes my stomach ache; I want to bury my face in her hair so badly.

She walks to the center of the room and turns to face me. “Daltrey, I’m sorry.”

I barely register her words. I’m still shocked to see her. “How did you get here?”

“My dad brought me. The girls told me what hotel you were at.”

I shake my head, trying to process the fact that she’s here. “Wait a second.” I hold up my hand as something occurs to me. “Did you just apologize?”

She nods. She looks terrified, but she’s holding my gaze steadily. “I’m so sorry for running away like that. Again.”

I cross the room in two steps to stand in front of her. “Are you kidding? This was all my fault. I’m the one who screwed up, Daisy. I didn’t go there to beat him up. I just wanted to make sure he knew I was on your side, to try to protect you. But I got so mad when I thought—” I take a deep breath, trying to get some control. “You have to know that I had no idea any of this would happen. I should have. I should have guessed, but I didn’t, and I’m so, so sorry.”

She holds up her hands. “I know you didn’t mean any harm, Daltrey. I’m not angry at you.”

“You’re not?”

She shakes her head. “No. I’m really not. I am angry at myself, though, because I shouldn’t have run.”

“No one could blame you.”

“I want you to know something,” she says, her voice low and almost husky. It sends goose bumps down my arms. “I’m done running. I’m done hiding. I’m done letting other people’s actions control my life. From now on, I’m going after what I want.”