Wylde Ride

Chapter 14: Fathers' Love

Weeping girls were not something I knew how to handle and apparently my dads didn't either. After making up with Lesia, we'd headed downstairs. I hadn't exactly been nice to everyone and I honestly was trying to be less of an asshole, so I felt the need to apologize. The second I got downstairs, Mal threw herself, tears and all, at me. My dads had silently informed me I was on my own. Thanks, dads.

Micah and Isaiah had glared at me and told me if I ever had so much as a passing fancy about changing teams ever again, they'd roast me on a fire. Wes had stuck his head out of Dad Victor's toy room long enough to inform everyone that he'd known I was never leaving and didn't understand why everyone was so upset.

The whole ordeal had been exhausting, so Lesia and I went back to my room to watch a movie. That lasted about as long as it took our heads to hit pillows. We spent the next couple days hanging out with Riley, who turned out to be a good guy. Watching the two of them interact, their relationship was obvious. There wasn't anything remotely sexual or romantic or even non-platonic in the way they were with each other. I did have a brief moment of doubt though when Lesia showed me some of the texts Riley had sent her. Then they'd explained that it went back to when her dad died. He kept trying to make her smile and started sending bad jokes and puns. Eventually, it evolved into bad pick-up lines.

When I'd asked why, he'd told me it was because he could never run out of bad pick-up lines and they worked better than the jokes. He'd headed home after a few days and since he'd sent the sitter packing, Lesia spent more time at my place than hers.

Oddly, the Henshaw boys were here too. Isaiah had sprained his ankle. Dad Sean said it was seriously aggravated since he'd continued to use it and would take a little bit longer to recoup. I knew the exercises he needed, so going back to boot when our week was up was fine as long as he listened to me.

So here I was with only a couple days left until we went back and a promise to keep.

"I don't think I can do this," I muttered, pushing my glasses back up my nose. Lesia's hand ran up and down my arm and I could hear brain cells dying as she pressed our lips together.

"Yes you can," her voice was firm, confident. I wished I could bottle it up and drink it. I was trembling just from the thought of what I needed to do. God, he was going to hate me. I was going to be the world's biggest disappointment.

"You need to do this, Scott. For you, not for me. You've been hiding in a shell and it's time break it."

I knew what she was saying was true. It was why I'd agreed to do this. That week at boot, when we'd been left on our own, I'd felt more like myself than I had since I was a kid. I wanted that feeling back. I groaned and buried my face in Lesia's hair. Her arms slid around me and she hugged me close before pushing me gently away.

"Go!" She said it firmly but there was a laugh in her voice and she grinned at me. I closed my eyes, breathed in deeply, and pushed the door to Dad's office open.

Dad sat behind his desk, working on his computer and muttering to himself. Nearby a large, standalone whiteboard had some equations scrawled across it. Several large bookshelves lined the walls holding all sorts of books and mementos and pictures, including one of him and mom on their wedding day, well, all of their wedding days really. Mom had professional portraits done in her dress with all my dads, so they would each have their own. Mom was kind of great like that. Dad glanced up, smiling at me.

"Hey Scott, what's up?"

I fiddled with my glasses, cleared my throat. I felt like something had decided to permanently lodge itself in there so I would never be able to say anything. Or maybe that was wishful thinking. I wasn't sure I could do this. He was going to hate me. It wouldn't be too horrible if I turned around and went back to Lesia, right?