EIGHTEEN
Zeus
Fire races down my spine as I wait for somebody to answer the damn door. If I checked right, Belle will be at work late since it’s a Monday night.
“Oh. Hi, Zeus.” Sharon pulls the door wide, gesturing for me to come in. “I just got in, so your timing is perfect.”
Yeah, I know. I watched her drive up the road.
“John far away?”
She frowns, turning her head slightly to one side. “Everything okay?”
I haven’t stepped foot in his house since we came to blows over Belle. I’m surprised Sharon remembers my name, considering we’ve only met once at the pub.
“I think so. Just got a couple of things I want to discuss with the old boy.”
She makes a little hum, pointing to an armchair as she crosses through to the kitchen. “Drink?”
“No. I’m good, thanks.”
She returns empty-handed and seemingly unsure what to do with herself. The relief is almost palpable when the faint rumble of John’s work truck dies in the driveway.
“Here he is.” She paints a wide smile, but I’m no fool.
She’s wary of me.
Don’t blame her.
“Hey,” John greets with a frown as he walks in the door. “This is a surprise.”
The sorry state of our friendship summed up in four words. How the fuck did mates as close as we were end up in the “I’m surprised to see you” category?
“Hoped if I dropped by on my way home you’d have time for a chat.”
His brow furrows. “Sure.” He drops his work jumper on the back of the sofa—the one I first had Belle on—and glances to Sharon. “Do you need Sharon to step out, Z?”
“Totally up to you.” I flatten my lips, hands clasped before me.
In a strange power play, I seem to have the upper hand. Here I am relaxed in the chair while the two of them stand stiff, eyeing each other for help.
“I can go read,” Sharon offers.
John nods, giving her a chaste kiss as she passes by. He shifts his focus back to me once she’s out of earshot.
“Before we kick this off, I’m telling you now I’m not interested in another fucking fist fight.”
I smirk, amused that he’s cottoned on to the purpose of my visit so quickly. Well, I guess there’s not much else that I’d be here for these days, is there?
“Neither am I, mate. I’m simply after a civil conversation between two gentlemen.”
He shakes his head with a laugh. “You’ve always been fucking trouble.”
I shrug. “Leopard can’t change its spots.”
“So,” he says with a sigh as he drops into the free armchair. “How bad is it? She told me you two have been in touch over Messenger. Have you seen each other as well?”
She has? I shake my head. “No. As much as you might struggle to believe it, I wanted to respect your wishes.”
He narrows his gaze. “Why are you here now, then? I already told her last night how I feel about the whole thing. She got you trying now, too?”
What the hell has Belle been up to? I’ve had nothing but silence from her since I sent that last message, so to hear she’s beaten me to the punch with John…. Maybe I did break her with those two simple emoticons?
“I’m here because now I can’t really give a fuck what you think as long as Belle is happy.”
His face turns to stone, eyes hard as he scowls at me. “She is happy.”
“Is she?” Because the girl that messages me, the woman who seeks a connection with the man she knows she’s not allowed to see—that girl isn’t happy.
His nostrils flare, hands flexing on the arms of the chair. Tone it down, Z.
“I’m sorry; I’m being an arsehole.”
He grunts in agreement.
“But in all seriousness, I want you to know that I asked Belle to do a tattoo for me. Whatever happens when I see her, it’s her life, J. She’s a grown woman now and although she cares what you think, it shouldn’t dictate her life.”
“You seem awfully sure that she’ll be happy to see you.”
“Why wouldn’t she?”
He sighs, feet shuffling on the carpet. “I still think you’ve got blinders on when it comes to what’s best for her.”
“Why?” I’m sick of this whole you’re-too-old shit. Sick of people thinking they know better than the girl herself.
Belle is the only one who knows what’s best for her. Nobody else. Not even me.
“I hate to bring it up like this,” he says, “but what if—by some stretch of the imagination—she ended up with you and wanted kids? Have you thought of that?”
Stab me right in the heart, why don’t you? “Cross that bridge when we come to it, I guess.”
“It’s a pretty important bridge.” John holds my gaze, stoic, as Sharon re-enters the room.
“Sorry.” She smiles softly. “I’ll only be a second; getting a drink.”
“No,” John barks, holding my eye as he does. “Stay. Zeus is leaving.”
Huh. “That how you’re going to deal with this?”
He leans forward, Sharon hesitant behind him. “You welcome yourself into my house so that you can tell me you plan on seeing my daughter, fucking with her head enough to get her twisted up in you again, and you expect me to sit here and take it?”
Sharon steps forward, resting a hand on John’s shoulder. He leans into her touch, seemingly calmed.
“I don’t plan to fuck with her head, J. And if she chooses to get twisted up in me, then that’s her decision. All I want is for you to let us make our own mistakes.”
“She’s my daughter, Z,” he says quietly. “My only child. It’s my job to protect her.”
“Maybe you’re being a little too protective.”
He sighs through his nose. “When what you’re proposing doesn’t seem to have anything but pain for her, then yes, I am being overprotective.” He runs a hand over his face. “She was a mess after you called it off. I don’t want to go back there again. I don’t think she needs to revisit that time in her life.”
“All due respect, mate, I called it off because of you. I did what you made me believe was right.”
“It was right.”
“Bullshit.” I lean forward, hands clasped tight before me to save the need to hit something. “You tell me she was a mess, and yeah, I know that to be true. But what about me?”
He frowns, refusing to look me in the eye.
“I’m still a fucking mess, J.” I flick my gaze to Sharon to find her watching me with what looks like pity. “This is me saying fuck the consequences, fuck hiding how I feel for everyone else’s sake, and laying it out bare. I love your daughter, always have, and forcing myself to believe otherwise is messing me up something wicked.”
He nods, acknowledging my words. “And what if you do go see her and she tells you she’s happy, that she’s content with her new life with Damien?”
Swear to God. He says that arsehole’s name one more time…. “Then I know for sure that this fucked up state I’m in is just how it has to be and I deal with it. But until she tells me that, until I hear it from her own mouth, then the wondering kills me, man.”
Sharon squeezes John’s shoulder again, causing him to look up at her as she speaks to me. “I think, for what it’s worth, you two need to sit down and deal with this yourselves—you and Belle. I only urge you to listen to what she has to say, Zeus. To listen without your own preconception of what you think she feels.”
I nod, thankful that somebody in this house has an ounce of common sense in them.
“I think you’re wrong,” John states, eyes to the floor as he shakes his head. “I think this is a huge fucking mistake and after all is said and done, I’m going to be left with a wreck of a daughter to put back together again.” He lifts his gaze to mine. “I don’t want you to see her, Zeus. I won’t allow it.”
I stand, arms tight as I coil my hands into fists at my sides. “Good thing I’m not asking for your fucking permission, then.”