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“I know who you fucking are, why are you in our house?” Clenching my teeth, my hands balled up, ready to grab him by the collar and kick his ass out.

He wasn't welcomed in my home, they were never welcomed here.

Why is my dad sitting and talking with them? Why isn't he telling them to go fuck themselves?

“Dad, do something here, tell them to leave.”

My father arched his brows and cleared his throat as his hands ran up and down his thighs. “Birch—”

Holding up his hand to stop my father from talking, the detective inserted his own words. “We're here because your father asked us to be. He's got a long story that he's ready to share, and we're eager to hear it.”

What the hell does that mean?

My father would never willingly talk to the police. It was something he tried to avoid like the plague. It didn't matter how much they pushed and pressed him for information about any of the shit they thought he was a part of; he never said a word.

He's lying. This motherfucker is full of shit.

“Why haven't you told this dick to go fuck himself?”

The officer dressed in full gear took a step forward, drifting his hand to hover over his gun. “Watch your mouth.”

“Watch my mouth? You're in my fucking house, and you don't belong here. You can't tell me how to talk in my own home.”

“Enough,” my dad snapped, cutting the air with his hand. “He's telling you the truth, Birch.” His eyes jerked to mine, the seriousness in his gaze stabbing me in the chest like a serrated blade.

Why? Why would he do this?

“What the fuck is going on? What the hell are you doing, Dad?” Curling my fingers into the plush fabric of the chair, I felt my knees start to buckle. “Why?”

“I'm getting old, Birch, it's time to finish this.” His eyes went cloudy as he forced a thin smile. “These guys were nice enough to wait here so I could tell you myself.”

“Tell me what? What the fuck is going on? What the hell are you doing?” The inside of my head began to spin with all the things we had been a part of together, and all the things he had done before I came along.

They're going to put us away for life!

Don't you get that? Don't you understand what you're doing?

I wanted to scream at him to just stop all of this. He didn't have to do anything, not now, not today. We should have talked about this first, we should have sat down as a family and decided what to do.

Because this didn't just affect him, it affected all of us.

But he didn't, and I shouldn't have been surprised by that.

Adjusting his suit, my father pressed his hands into his knees and stood up. His demeanor was different, he didn't look like himself. It was like he stood taller, his back rigid and firm as he held his chin up high.

“It's over, all of this over. I'm finally going to do what I should have done a long time ago. Maybe if I had, shit wouldn't have gotten so out of hand.” The hardness his eyes always had faded away. He looked so tired, like he wanted nothing more than to just lay his head down and sleep for eternity.

“I don't understand.”

What was he ending exactly?

What was over?

Deep down I knew what he was saying, but accepting it meant accepting what came with it. I wasn't ready to do that.

No. No you can't! Don't do that!

I stood staring at him with gaping eyes, trying to make him see that what he was doing was wrong. He didn't have to do it this way. There was always another way.