Players, Bumps and Cocktail Sausages (Silence #3)

Her words were like the light bulb effect.

“Remembered affection,” I said. “Shit, that’s it. This whole time I’ve been hating him more because I thought a part of me still cared or something fucked up like that. I hate the bastard; I really do, but I remember loving him. Still, it doesn’t help me understand.”

“Do you ever think you’ll understand?”

“No. I’ve wanted to ask him so many times why he did it to her, but I was scared that if I saw him I’d just go crazy.”

“And you’d be asking the wrong question. You need to know why he did it to you.”

Like Oakley said. I blinked, clenching my jaw so I wouldn’t bloody cry. He was supposed to be my dad, a good man, but that didn’t stop him doing what he did. He didn’t love any of us enough. My mind was made up. I needed to know why he didn’t love his wife and children enough. I was going to see him.





Chapter Thirty-nine


Jasper




“I don’t know if I can go in,” I said.

“You don’t have to, but I really think you need this,” Oakley replied down the phone.

“I hate him.”

“I know you do. But you didn’t used to. You deserve answers, or at the very least to face him and realise it’s not worth letting his mistakes ruin your life.”

“Mistakes? Christ that’s a small word for what he did.”

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter what you call it, the fact is, it’s screwing with you and you need to do something about it. Now get out of the car and do this for yourself.”

“Whoa, yes, mum!” I got out. The next hurdle was forcing myself to walk into that building.

“I don’t know how I’m going to keep my cool, especially if he mentions you. Or Everleigh.”

“So what if he does, he’s stuck in there.”

She was bothered by the idea that he might mention them and Mum; I knew she was.

“We don’t even know if he knows about Everleigh.”

“Come on,” I said. Now she was just clutching at straws. His mum, who we rarely speak to now, visited him. I knew he was her son, but I couldn’t get past the fact that she still wanted to see him after what he did to her granddaughter.

“Okay, fine. He probably does, but he’ll never get anywhere near her, so it’s a non-issue. I’ve got to go; Bentley’s kicking my bladder. Call me when you get out.”

“Alright. Bye.”

I slipped my phone in my pocket and walked to the visitor’s entrance, but I couldn’t go through the door. My muscles had frozen in fear. Seeing him again felt wrong, I didn’t want to have anything to do with him. I didn’t want seeing him to be the thing that helped me move on. And what if Holly was right, what if it didn’t help? I could walk away today feeling worse, hating him more and having my fears for Sophia’s safety double.

This was either going to be really good for me or really bad. Either way, I had to try. Me and Holly wouldn’t work if I didn’t get myself sorted out. It was worth trying; anything was worth trying. I’d face the devil for her, and my father came pretty damn close.

For Holly and Soph.

I walked through the door, swallowing my fear.

Inside was dim with pale green walls and an old dark wooden reception desk. A few people were hovering around, waiting to go through.

I cleared my throat. “I’m Jasper Scofield, here to see Max Farrell.”

The woman behind the desk barely looked up. She tapped a few things on her keyboard.

“Okay. Take a seat and you’ll be called through in a minute,” she said, even though the six seats were clearly taken.

“Thanks.”

I stood by the window and concentrated on keeping my breathing even. This was the last place on earth I wanted to be, and I had to force myself to stay still and not flee out the door.

I sat on the metal chair and waited as the inmates walked through the barred door into the visiting room. A few people stood up to greet their loved ones briefly, before being told to break it off. I kept still on the chair, tapping my foot anxiously.

Then I saw him, and my world clouded.

He was dressed in dark blue sweats and a black jumper. I’d never seen him like that before. He usually wore suits, smart jeans and shirts. It was like watching another person. I bet he hated it, but I doubt there was a huge range of choice in prison. Good.

His hair had greyed more at the sides, and he’d put on some weight. His clean shaven face was the same as always, but with the addition of a few wrinkles around his evil eyes.

He knew I was coming, but he still looked shocked to see me. Maybe he didn’t think I’d really come.

“Son,” he said as he sat down.

I wasn’t sure if he’d said it to get to me, or if he still thought of me as his son; either way I wasn’t going to let him get to me.

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