Chapter 5 Creed
Creed
“ASHER’S LITTLE SISTER.”
My larger-than-life father turns to me and gives me a look that used to have me shrinking in my seat when I was a kid, but now I just mimic the look on his face right back at him, which he does not appreciate.
“What did you do, Son?” he repeats a little softer this time, but still I don’t answer.
I’m not entirely certain how to explain just how broken and lost I feel without Riley and Collins.
How exactly does one describe their sanity snapping in two, only to leave them laughing on the bathroom floor after shattering a mirror because their own reflection was taunting them?
How do I tell my dad that I’m a fucking failure because I couldn’t do what he’s been doing for most of my life? Keep those that I love safe.
Garrick St. James, in my eyes, has always been one of the best human beings to grace this planet.
When my mom died when I was little, he stepped up and raised me the best he could.
He was gone a lot, but he always made sure I was well fed, and he spent every minute that he was home with me.
He never remarried either. He told me that mom was the only woman he’d ever given his heart to, and that it’d remain with her until they found their way back to one another in the afterlife.
So he’d always remained focused on me or his job.
I always thought he was the world’s busiest taxi driver, but several years ago, I’d learned that it was just a cover.
While occasionally transporting people as a normal taxi driver, his main job was helping to transport women, children, and occasionally men from toxic situations, helping to create new identities so they could start their lives anew.
I understand why he kept this secret from me, but honestly, finding out the truth of it only made me love him more. I’d never met a more selfless man than my father…until Riley came along.
My chest damn near caves in at the thought of my boy and the way he was dragged away. The trail of blood that led to the pool of it where he’d been shot on our tour bus still haunts me. Asher hasn’t let me go back there since that day two weeks ago, even though it’s been scrubbed clean.
Dad releases a hefty sigh when he sees I won’t answer him and turns to Ash, raising a dark brow at him. “He destroyed his room again, I take it?”
“Just the bathroom mirror this time.”
I want to mumble how he’s a fucking traitor under my breath, but I refrain. Asher takes a seat on the sofa and checks his phone while dad guides me over to one of the chairs at the kitchenette and shoves me into it.
“Let me see,” he beckons, pulling his chair directly in front of mine and holding out his hand.
I place mine into his and watch silently as he carefully unwraps the towel from my knuckles.
It’s hard to pay attention or even register the pain of him prodding my hand when my thoughts are constantly plagued with what-ifs and worst-case scenarios.
I want to believe that they’re both alive, and I’m clinging to as much hope as I can, but the scene that motherfucker painted for me on the bus is making it really fucking difficult.
No. Stop it.
They. Are. Alive.
They’re fucking alive.
They have to be alive because I. Fucking. Need. Them.
There is no ‘me’ without Collins and Riley.
My life, my very existence on this Godforsaken planet now rests entirely upon the beating of both of their hearts. It’s been that way from the moment they both entered and re-emerged back into my life. There’s no way I could survive losing either of them.
That’s why I’m mentally beating that brief moment of doubt with a proverbial baseball bat right now because they are alive, and I’m going to find them.
Once they’re safe in my arms, I’m going to spend the rest of my life equally loving the shit out of them while simultaneously becoming a helicopter boyfriend because I am never taking my eyes off of them ever again. Ever.
My dad’s deep, rumbling, authoritative voice barks out my name, and it pulls me from my thoughts.
My head snaps up, his bright eyes searching mine to make sure he’s got my attention before he goes back to pulling the glass from my knuckles.
“You have been yellin’, screamin’, and cussin’ up a fuckin’ storm for two weeks.
You’ve been lashing out and destroying your room.
You’ve lost your fucking mind over these two, and yet you’ve told me fuck-all about them since I’ve been here.
Don’t get in your head, Son,” he says, and I hiss at the last large shard he pulls from between my knuckles with a force that feels a little rougher than necessary.
I’m about to snap at him, but eyes so similar to mine burn through me, and it’s got my jaw wired shut.
“Don’t get quiet now, and don’t lose yourself to that darkness that’s reeling you in. Be angry, but keep your fuckin’ head.”
“That’s exactly what I said,” Asher says while typing away on his phone.
I want to roll my eyes, but I know they’re both right. I roll them anyway because now it feels like they’re ganging up on me. The fuckers.
After Dad finishes bandaging my hand, he washes his own before sitting in front of me again. He taps a single finger to my temple twice before leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s happening up there? Talk to me, Credence. Give me the pieces to this broken puzzle in your mind.”
“What do I say, Dad? Huh?” I start, tossing my hands up in the air, at a loss for words.
In a world where I never seem to shut up, right now I don’t know what to tell him.
“Do I tell you how I couldn’t do what you’ve been doing for the majority of your adult life by protecting the people I love?
How I’ve failed over and over and fucking over again?
Tell me, Dad, do I confess how I made a promise and broke it?
” My voice rises until I’m yelling, and I shoot out of my chair, knocking it backwards.
I’ve grabbed Asher’s attention, too, seeing his head snap up at my harsh shouting.
I begin to pace the floor, my thoughts and words becoming manic.
“They were taken from me! Right from under my fucking nose. I just got her back. I had a plan, and I made them both mine. I fucking swore I would keep them safe. What a fucking joke I must be because I didn’t.
I failed, Dad,” I choke out, my chest heaving. “I. Fucking. Failed.”
I spin around to face my father, hands gripping my hair so tightly that the roots strain painfully against my injuries.
“I. Fucking. Failed.” I repeat through gritted teeth as my bandaged fist bangs against my chest with each painful syllable.
Breaths attempt to saw into my lungs as I inhale, but it fucking hurts.
Everything hurts without them. My vision swims, and a cracked sob wrenches itself from my chest. “Dad, I—”
Strong arms wrap around me, my father’s hold keeping me firmly planted on my feet instead of collapsing like my body is threatening to do. Dad just holds me together, his strength refusing to let me break apart. I won’t let the tears fall again, but I will take this moment to pull my shit together.
When my dad finally releases me, he pulls me over to the small living space and gestures for me to sit down next to Asher, who is watching me warily.
He gives me one firm squeeze on my knee before turning our attention to my father, who clears his throat while taking the single seat adjacent to ours.
“Better?” he asks, raising a dark brow at me.
“Yeah,” I rasp awkwardly, trying to clear my throat.
“Good,” he says on a sigh, clasping his hands together and resting his elbows on his knees. “Now, I’m going to circle back to what you told me when you first called me to tell me about this entire situation—you told me she’s everything, and she’s mine.”
Asher’s head snaps in my direction at that, and I meet his eyes head-on. I let him see the truth because there’s nothing to hide. He knows how I feel about his sister, but knowing a fact and hearing it come straight from someone’s mouth are two separate things.
I meant every word.
Collins is my everything.
One of them, anyway.
She shares that spot with Riley now, and I have every confidence that she wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Who is she, though? You kids must think I’m a mind reader, because nobody fuckin’ tells me anything around here,” Dad retorts, throwing his arms out to the side in defeat, and it has Asher’s eyes rounding in surprise.
“You didn’t tell him?” Asher whisper-shouts at me.
“No—” I whisper-shout back.
“Tell me what?”
“Creed—”
“Asher—
“Fucking hell—”
“In case you missed it, Ash, I’ve been in fucking crisis mode. It hasn’t exactly crossed my mind to play meet the parents,” I snap, but immediately feel like an asshole.
“Credence—“
“Stop fucking calling me that,” I groan at my dad.
“Then stop being an ass,” he scolds. “Who is she?” he asks again.
Briefly eyeing Asher, I meet my father’s intense gaze. “She’s Asher’s little sister.”
His brows furrow as he looks at the man sitting next to me in confusion. “You have a little sister?”
Asher nods. “I don’t think you’ve ever met her. She’s quite a bit younger than us.”
“How much younger?”
“Dad—“
“How. Much. Younger. Credence?”
“Nine years younger. She’s fucking twenty years old, okay?!” I snap. “Fuckin’ A, Dad, it’s not like I’m robbing the cradle.” I throw my weight back into the seat and rub my hands down my face, the gauze catching on the stubble that I definitely didn’t shave in the shower earlier.
My dad is quiet, but the couch starts to shake with Asher’s silent laughter. He fucking baited me, knowing how protective my dad is of women and children. I peek at him through my hands, and the fucker is, in fact, laughing at me.