Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-Two

Jackson

“Am I in trouble?” I joked as I approached Dad, repeating the phrase I had asked a million times as a kid, always needlessly worried that the good life I’d been given was going to get ripped out from underneath me if I made a mistake.

Dad stuck his hands inside his pockets, his face wrinkling up in that familiar smile. He was getting older now, with more lines on his face and white in his hair than the last time I’d seen him. Yet he was still young at heart, the same man who’d taken me in and taught me how to smile again.

“Oh, huge trouble,” he said, joking back. He glanced through the windows, where we could see Mom offering Allison a cookie. He looked back at me and winked. “At least, I think your heart’s in trouble. But I reckon she’ll take good care of it.”

I stilled beside him. “It can’t be like that,” I said.

He leaned back against the deck railing, shuffling change in his pocket. “Your mom said you’d say that. Care to tell me why not?”

I braced myself, leaning back beside him, thinking back to all the dad talks we’d had before. He had always been more of a goofball, the kind of guy who liked to chuck the ball around the yard with you or have water gun fights in the summer. Mom was usually the one who did most of the heart-to-hearts. But occasionally, she’d send him in for a “dad talk,” just like this one. And though they were few and far between, I’d cherished every one of them.

He, more than anyone else, was the one I’d been able to talk to about growing up with Russell. I’d told him things I’d never told another soul—probably because those talks were so rare and I’d known there was a safety in his easygoing nature, that he’d never turn into one of those parents who wanted to rehash the hard stuff all the time. Like me, he’d rather leave some things unsaid and find joy in the present. It made him the easiest person to talk to when it really counted.

“You know about Russell,” I said.

“What about him?”

It hurt to say it, even now. “Like it or not, I come from him. I have the Sharp blood.”

Dad laughed out loud, shocking me. “Son, based on what I know about Russell, I’d say you couldn’t be further from him as a person.”

I shook my head. “That’s only because I keep a tight control on myself. I choose to be different, I choose to laugh and grin and help people out. But…” I swallowed hard, feeling ashamed to say it—even to him. “I know where I come from. I know there’s a monster living inside me. Sometimes I feel it, threatening to break through.”

He turned toward me, taking on a serious look. “What do you mean?”

I couldn’t meet his eyes, so I looked at the mountain instead. It took me a minute to even get the words out, and when I did, they felt like gravel in my throat. “Like when I’m tempted to cross the line on a case. When the thought crosses my mind that planting evidence would make things so much easier. Or when I go pick up a child abuser and can’t help but think I’d really love to get a few punches in on him and pretend it was justified.”

He didn’t say anything

“I picked up a guy a few weeks ago, and I swear.” I shook my head. “After seeing his girlfriend in the hospital, half of me hoped he’d make a move on me. Do something—anything—where I could give him a taste of his own medicine.”

“Okay. So you’re tempted to cross the line sometimes. But have you ever actually done it?”

I thought it over. “Not those specific things, no. But I did cross a line once,” I admitted. “Sort of, anyway.”

“How so?”

I glanced over and saw curiosity on his face, not judgment. “I was stuck on a homicide investigation, and I arranged an opportunity for Daphne to be alone in a room with some evidence. I knew if she looked at it, she might get some insight I couldn’t. I wanted to make her an official consultant but knew Greg wouldn’t like it, so I did it unofficially instead. At best, it was a gray area.”

Dad put a hand on my shoulder and looked at me solemnly. “My goodness. You’re lucky you aren’t in Rikers, being such a hardened criminal and all.”

I cracked up, despite the heaviness in my heart.

“Son,” he continued, “occasionally being tempted to do the wrong thing has nothing to do with being Russell’s son. It’s just part of being human. We’re all tempted to take shortcuts or cross the line sometimes. Remember when you used to wake up screaming with nightmares? I tell you what, if I’d met Russell in a dark alley during those years, I’d probably be in jail right now.”

“Really?” It was hard to believe. This was the man who would pull over on the side of the road to help a turtle cross so it wouldn’t get injured.

“You bet your ass I would have. Used to daydream about it.”

For some reason, that made me feel a whole lot better. “I’ve always felt like I had to work so hard to not be like him,” I confessed. “And that I had to always be the happy, cheerful, smiling one. Like if I allowed myself to be angry, that part of me might grow and unleash into something awful.”

Dad just rolled his eyes. “You’re not Bruce Banner, son. I think we’ll all be okay if you get angry sometimes.”

“Maybe,” I said, though I wasn’t fully convinced.

“Look, it’s clear as day you’re head-over-heels in love with that woman in there. And I’d say it’s pretty clear she’s in love with you too. So if you’re holding yourself back from a relationship with her because you’re worried you’re going to turn into Russell, I’d say you need to give yourself more credit than that.”

I swallowed hard. “I’ve never let a woman get close. Russell always said my mother was the one who brought out the Sharp blood in him. He was sure it would be a woman to do it to me too. So I never risked it.”

“But now part of you wants to risk it, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “But I don’t want to hurt her.”

“You will,” Dad said, shrugging. He held a hand up when he saw my face. “I don’t mean physically. You don’t have that in you, no matter who your sperm donor was. But in relationships, we hurt people sometimes. It’s just part of it. You think I’ve never hurt your mother? I have. I love that woman with all my heart, and yet I’ve hurt her and she’s hurt me, because we’re two human people who screw up sometimes.”

He put his hand on my shoulder again. “You’re a good man, Jackson. I’m proud of you, and I’ll be proud of you, no matter what you decide about Allison. But I’m here to tell you that, sometimes, love is worth the risk.”

“Is that what Mom sent you to tell me?” I asked, grinning.

“Actually, I think her exact words were that she’s offended you’re giving Russell so much credit for who you are when she’s the one who went to the trouble to raise you.” He winked at me.

“She said that, huh?”

“Nah. But I am. Don’t forget, you may have come from Russell, but you’ve got me and your mom in you too.” He glanced through the window to where Mom was pulling yet another dessert out of the oven. Like she could sense him looking, she turned around and blew him a kiss. He just grinned. “I’d like to think that gives you a leg up on everyone else, especially in the relationship department.”

“You may be right,” I said, turning my eyes from Mom to Allison, who was filling glasses with sweet tea. Just like Mom had with Dad, she lifted her head to look at me, giving me a little smile.

“Just think about it,” Dad said.

“I will.”