He looked frustrated. “I guess I should ask: why did you come here tonight?”
That was a question I should have considered in more depth. But I already felt like depth was something Blake was lacking.
“Was it money? ’Cause I ain’t rich, sweetheart.”
“I figured.” I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know why I came here. I guess I just wanted you to know that I exist, and that I’m fine.” I looked at our sad surroundings. “And I want to know why you did what you did. Why did you hurt Grampy? Why did you hurt Mom?”
“Hurt them? They’re the ones who always second-guessed me. They took you away from me, and have the nerve to make me the bad guy!”
I stood my ground. “You took yourself away from me,” I said. “You chose to try and rob them, and you chose to not reach out to me after you were out of jail. You chose to be a ghost story, and now you’re choosing to victimize yourself.”
“I’m tired of this shit. You talk just the way Jayla does. Thinks she’s too good for everyone else. I can see I didn’t miss out on much.”
“I could say the same thing.” I stood up. “I don’t even know why I thought this would change anything. All it did was confirm that Mom was right to leave.”
I was so fucking done with this man. To know what I knew, see what I have seen, and then have him try to justify it all made me feel sick to my stomach. What did he ever do with his life? Mom raised me on her own, in a city that is always pushing people who look like us away. To have him trying to be the voice of reason was astounding. I turned to go.
“Wait, sit down.” He waved and added in a soft voice, “I’m sorry, okay?” His face had a pained expression. “I always regretted not being in your life. I didn’t mean to come off as a dick.” He was beginning to breathe heavily again.
I paused. I had come this far—why not give him another minute? “All right. What do you wanna say?” I asked, taking my seat again.
“I don’t know if saying sorry will really mean anything, especially from someone like me. I don’t expect you to forgive me for doing what I did, or for not stepping up to be the father a kid needed. I regret that every day, believe it or not.” He looked down at his hands and then back up at me. “You think I never thought about having a daughter? Or all the things we could have done together? It haunts me.” He shook his head. “But that’s what I gotta live with.”
Hearing those words caused a storm to stir inside my heart. Blake thought about the same things I did?
I hadn’t expected to hear that. I was more surprised than anything else. “I…think about those things too.” I looked down. Had I been too mean? I kind of regretted going off on him like that.
“I’m glad I’m not the only one.” He looked up at me, tears in his eyes, a half grin on his face. Maybe time really could change people.
“What happens now, then?” I was almost afraid to ask.
“Sit right here. There’s something I want to show you.” He got up. “I keep it in my car. I’ll be right back.” He walked off around the building, I was guessing to the parking lot out front. What did he want to show me?
I glanced around the deck and noticed all the men staring at me. I couldn’t handle their eyes, so I grabbed my phone to check the time. It was past midnight and I had a few messages from Tia.
Tia: Did you go? What happened?
Tia: Keep me in the loop. I’m half tempted to drive out there myself.
Tia: ???
I put my phone down when I heard John laughing.
“What’s so funny?” I asked him.
“Blake, that daddy of yours? The reason he comes all the way out here is because he’s banned from most bars in town.”
I didn’t reply. I just looked at him, confused. Why would he tell me that?
“Never pays his tabs. He’s a thief. And as you can see, he’s made off with your bag.”
I looked down—my bag was gone.
“What the fuck!”
Blake was a compulsive liar, and I should have known better than to trust him. It must have been the same manipulative shit he’d used on Mom. I made my way around the building to see Blake running. But not towards a car…he was running away from something. He had my bag in his hands.
“What the hell are you?!” He was screaming like a baby.
I didn’t see who it was, but I could hear someone yelling back, “Give me that damn bag!”
“Holy shit,” I whispered. I knew that voice.
“Clay!” I yelled. What was he doing there? How was he there? I thought I’d left the journal in my bedroom.
Oh, shit.
I remembered that I hadn’t been able find my bag, and Clay had handed it to me. He must have stuck the journal in there. I couldn’t believe I’d missed that. Goddammit, he was sneaky.
I chased after them and I could see Clay grab Blake’s arm only to be punched in the face. Clay didn’t look too fazed, and reacted by head-butting Blake, knocking him back a few feet. Blake still had the bag as he retreated towards the road. Cars were zooming by.
“Give me my bag!” I yelled, running towards Blake. He couldn’t take the journal, and he couldn’t damage it. I didn’t care about anything else in that bag; I just had to get the journal back.
“Anna, what is that thing?” Blake kept walking backwards, barely able to keep his composure.
I didn’t reply. I just walked forward. Blake was trying to make a quick buck off of me, just like he had with Mom, Nan, and Grampy.
“Clay, you shouldn’t have come,” I
