Page 24 of Wildly Yours (Owl Creek #3)

M y father looks at me through swollen eyes, two dark slits fixed on my face. But instead of seeing anger staring at me, I see sorrow. He lifts one hand a few inches off the bed, reaching toward me, and he whispers my name. It's enough to cause my stomach to clench and throat to squeeze.

"You came."

He is thin and weak, a shadow of the man I battled seven years ago.

The nurse tells me that no one has come to visit him since he arrived.

I doubt he has anyone in his life that wants to bid him farewell, and I feel sorry for him.

Not only has my whole family found ways to support me in my decision to see him again, they are already pooling money to bury him.

And I have Serena, the one person I hurt the most in all of this, by my side.

"Come closer, I want to tell you something before it's too late."

I pull a chair over and sit next to him.

All of the sorrow and rage that lived in my body for those years is gone.

Now I feel only sympathy for him and for the lonely mess he's made, and a desire to see this to the end.

See him to the end. I don't know how I have come to feel this much grace, but I'm grateful for it.

Serena sits in the other chair lining the wall, giving me some space and privacy. My father's voice is so weak, it's barely above a whisper.

"I'm here. I'm listening."

"When you came to see me, I saw myself in you.

Not the man who took the cowards path and hurt your mother and you boys.

The man who could have been better. I had a future you know.

I could have been something. But my old man made sure I was never better than him.

He saw that I was trying to crawl out of the shit hole he had us in, and he grabbed me by the pants and drug me back down.

And when I saw you, I did the same. I wanted you to hurt me, so you would be just like me. And I wanted to—"

He starts coughing so I hand him a small glass of water the nurses left him. I hold it for him as he takes a sip to quiet the eruption in his chest. An alarm starts to sound, and a nurse pokes her head in to check on him and stop the beeping sound that is filling the room.

"Best to keep this visit short."

I nod, knowing that I'm not going anywhere. Because I have to see this through. I have to end this for me and my future. For mine and Serena's future.

Once he settles down, he fixes his eyes on me again.

"I wanted to die, Cody. I pushed you that night so you would hurt me so bad I would die. I was such a coward I couldn't take my own life, I wanted to make you do it so I could bring you down with me as I fell."

There's a hammering feeling in my head as my blood pressure shoots up, and I drop my head in my hands. How can he say this? How does someone become like this? In a moment the answer is clear.

Serena's therapist told us that every day you hear a broken record in your mind, made up of your voice and the voices of those around you telling you things.

And those things are wretched or they are kind.

He heard the wretched. And after the night I beat him up, so did I.

But unlike him, I had people around me contradicting those words with kindness and it kept me. It held me.

I feel his gaze on me and I lift my head to look at him again. He reaches his hand out and grips my wrist with the little strength he has.

"I'm sorry, Son."

My father closes his eyes, and I feel his grip loosen. His breathing is shallow and slow. Serena comes up and wraps herself around me from behind, holding me as I watch him take his final breath.