Dylan: The Sons of Dusty Walker

by Redford, Jodi

  But he’d found out anyway, and now he’d probably hate her for keeping this from him.

  Stomach queasy and her heart heavy, she strode to Dylan and touched his arm. “Can you take us home now?”

  Before Dylan could respond, Luke stepped forward. His hawk-like stare cycled between Zoe’s hand on Dylan’s arm, Hunter, and then up to Dylan’s face. Her dad’s eyes narrowed. “What in the hell is going on here?”

  She glared at Luke. “That’s absolutely none of your business. Or concern.” She nudged Dylan toward the SUV.

  Luke stalked directly in Dylan’s path. “Have you been messing around with my daughter?” He slammed his hand on Dylan’s chest, knocking him back a step. “Did you knock her up, you sonofabitch?” Luke roared that last part and swung at Dylan’s face, connecting with his jaw.

  “Aw shit.” The guy with the neon blue mohawk leapt on Luke before he could take another swing. Her dad growled and elbowed the kid in the ribs. Luke whipped around, his fist flying, ready to hit its target. Before her dad’s punch could make contact, mohawk kid’s female partner cold-cocked Luke, sending him down for the count. The woman un-balled her fist and cursed. “There goes my damn manicure.”

  Mohawk glanced at Dylan. “This isn’t exactly how I pictured this reconciliation going.”

  Dylan worked his jaw. Apparently satisfied nothing was broken, he exhaled heavily. “It coulda been worse.”

  The kid nodded. “A media crew could have been around and captured that for the ten o’clock news. Then Luke would never live down getting his lights knocked out by a girl.”

  Reminded that they were standing in the middle of town, Zoe slashed a look over her shoulder. Thankfully Red Creek had rolled up its sidewalk for the night. The few cars around likely belonged to the folks still at Callie’s party. Who knew when that would break up? People could walk down the street any moment now.

  Sighing, she shifted Hunter in her arms and stroked her hand over his hair. He’d been unusually quiet the last few minutes. Probably he was confused and scared after the scuffle with Luke. Just one more reason to be furious with her dad. She turned her attention to Mohawk. “Can you get my father in your van? You can follow us to my house.”

  Dylan frowned at her. “If you’re not comfortable with that I can always take them to my dad’s place.”

  Tempting as it was, she needed to stop hiding from her past. If she didn’t take care of this now it would haunt her the rest of her days. “No, it’s okay.”

  His expression unreadable, Dylan strode to Luke’s side. He squatted and gripped Luke beneath his lax arms, hefting him into a sprawled sitting position. The kid hustled behind Luke, and with Dylan’s assistance, they hoisted her dad upright and dragged him to the opened door in the back of the van. With little ceremony and plenty of grunts and curses on their part, they managed to get him onto the floor of the vehicle. Dylan hopped down from the tail gate and slammed the door shut. He pulled his keys from his pocket. After clicking the lock release button, he took Hunter from her and buckled him into his child seat, all without saying a word to her.

  Her belly a noxious pit of swirling unease, she ducked into her own seat and fastened her safety belt. Dylan climbed behind the wheel and started the engine, a fierce energy radiating from him. He backed out of the parking space with a squeal of the SUV tires and pointed them in the direction of home.

  She swallowed hard, desperately wishing he’d say something. “Is your jaw feeling better?”

  “It’s fine. Were you ever intendin’ to tell me he’s your father?”

  Of course he’d have to lead with the one question that he wouldn’t like the answer to. “No.”

  He slashed a look her way, the pain and fury in his eyes cutting straight through her. “You trust me that little, huh?”

  “It has nothing to do with that, Dylan.” Feeling like the entire world was pressing down on her shoulders, she hugged her chest, the straps of the seatbelt digging into her. It seemed a fitting metaphor to her life. She was a constant prisoner to her past, unable to completely break the bonds. Hell, she’d fallen in love with a man who was a tangible link to the one person she’d fought so hard to sever ties with. If that wasn’t living proof that she couldn’t escape her past, nothing was. “I couldn’t tell you because it’d put you in the middle.”

  “It’s still the same thing, Zoe. A total lack of trust in me that I would stand by you no matter what.”

  She blinked against the tears threatening to well into existence. “You’re telling me you could have kept that secret from him? Because that’s what it would have come down to. I wouldn’t have let you tell him about me and Hunter.”

  Dylan tore his focus from the windshield again. “You honestly think he wouldn’t have eventually found out about us? My band is a part of my life. Luke is a part of my life. Your paths would have eventually crossed.”

  She averted her gaze. A thick silence shrouded the vehicle. When Dylan finally spoke a noticeable edge serrated his tone. “You weren’t plannin’ to be a permanent part of my life, were ya?”

  The tears broke their dam. He had it all wrong. “When your week here is up, I figured...”

  “What, Zoe? What assumption did you make?” The hurt etching his features hinted that he’d already put the pieces together. “That I would check out on you like Luke did? Do you think that little of me? I’m nothing like your father. Or mine. I wouldn’t abandon my family.”

  Guilt seared her to the bone. “I’m sorry.” Those two words sounded too feeble for repairing the hurt she’d inflicted on him. “And I don’t think those things about you.”

  “But you do,” he bit out. “If you didn’t, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

  She needed him to understand exactly how fucked up she was. Then he’d know what he was dealing with. He’d know the uphill struggle she faced every day of her life. “It’s not easy for me to trust, Dylan. Sometimes I think it’s impossible. Yes, I assumed you would leave. It was easier than building my hopes and waiting for the day you wouldn’t come home to me and Hunter. Because that’s the only existence I’ve known—daddies who can’t be there for their families.”

  He remained silent, the tension still sparking from him. Finally he dragged his fingers through his hair, a weary exhale slipping free. “I went through the same thing with Dusty. I get that trust can be a hard thing to grasp onto when you expect the worst from a person. We build walls. So thick that sometimes we can’t even break past them. But we have to, Zoe. There’s no future for us if we don’t.”

  The finality of his words shot a tremor through her. If she didn’t shake loose of her demons he’d leave her. In the back of her mind she realized that wasn’t really what he was saying, but her fears eagerly grasped onto that interpretation with zealous glee. Give them an excuse to check out and they will. The only one you can depend on in this life is you.

  They pulled into the driveway leading up to the farmhouse. Dylan parked. Before he could get to Hunter she freed their son from the car seat and hiked him into her arms.

  Dark clouds of emotion shadowing his gaze, Dylan shoved his hands in his pockets. The van pulled in next to the SUV, giving her something else to focus on than the wounds her fucked up issues were inflicting on her and the man she loved.

  Mohawk kid jumped down from the driver’s seat and sent Dylan a wary look. “He’s conscious. And pissy as a bear with a toothache.”

  The side door opened and Luke climbed out, his scowl complimenting the description that’d been slapped on him. He glared at Dylan. “I oughta bust your damn kneecaps. Sneaking around behind my back with my daughter like a fucking weasel. After everything I did for you. Taking you into the band and treating you like a son.”

  His choice of words triggered a humorless laugh from her. “And what exactly did that amount to? Paying him off with a car to make up for disappearing from his life for eighteen months straight?”

  A flush crept over Luke’s face.
“I’m not proud of the way I failed you, Moonshine.” His apology was slightly ruined by the stubborn slant of his chin. She knew where this was leading. Her dad could never take the entire blame for anything. He jabbed a finger, swiping the air between them. “But you walked out on me too.”

  And there it was. “Because I had to. If I didn’t cut the tie it would have strangled me with its bitterness.”

  “So you washed your hands of me? Decided I wasn’t even worth giving another chance?” Genuine hurt lined her father’s haggard features.

  She trembled, despising that he could still make her feel anything other than a cold emptiness against him. “How many chances am I expected to give you?” How many more times am I supposed to let you in so you’ll crush my heart once and for all?

  “I’m beggin’ for one more, baby girl. That’s all. If you can’t forgive me enough to start over—” Luke’s voice broke, preventing him from finishing his speech.

  Don’t fall for it, you fool. Fear spackled the chink forming in her wall. “You can stay tonight, but I want you gone tomorrow. For good.”

  Forcing herself to turn her back on Luke’s visible pain, she carried Hunter up the porch steps and disappeared inside the house.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Heaviness wedged against his chest, Dylan watched Zoe walk away with their son, her walls a fortress stretching to the sky. He ached for her, even while he recognized that same quality within himself. That protective need to shut out those who held the key to hurting you the most.

  He shifted his focus to Luke. The man looked like he’d aged ten years in the last five minutes. He wanted to despise him for Zoe’s sake—for their sake—not feel this pity that stirred inside him. But it was impossible to ignore when the man looked like his world was crumbling around his feet. Clearing his throat, Dylan caught Malcom’s eye and nodded toward the house.

  Fortunately the kid caught on quick. “Hey, Trin, want to give me a hand taking the bags in?”

  “Why not?” Trinity grimaced. “My nails are busted anyway.”

  Deciding to risk a possible busted kneecap, Dylan clapped Luke on the shoulder. “How about you and I take a stroll?”

  “Do I look like I’m in the mood for a fucking stroll?”

  Dylan increased the pressure of the fingers digging into Luke’s muscle. “No, you look like a man who needs to get his shit together.”

  Stubbornness flared in Luke’s eyes for a moment before dimming. The tension drained from his body and he hunched his shoulders inward. “Been working on that for near forty-eight years, and still haven’t gotten it right.”

  He nudged Luke toward the back of the house. They approached Hunter’s swing set and Luke propped his boot on the plastic slide. “I’m sorry for punching ya. Guess I don’t exactly have a right to defend my daughter’s honor considering what a shitty father I’ve been.”

  Dylan rubbed his jaw. “Don’t worry about it. Not the first time someone’s taken a swing at me and probably won’t be the last.”

  “Did she tell you not to say anything to me about where she’s been livin’ all this time?” Luke dropped his gaze. “Never mind. I’m sure she did. Can’t say I blame her.”

  “I didn’t know she was your daughter until half an hour ago.”

  Luke’s head jerked up. Another hint of that pain twisted his features. “Does she hate me that much?”

  “That’s for her to answer, not me.” Dylan flicked his thumb along the chain suspending one of the swings. “These six years I’ve known you, you’ve never once talked about your daughter.” He’d been aware of her existence, in a vague, ghostly sort of a way. Everyone in the band knew there was some kind of estrangement there between Luke and Moonshine. Considering the foulness of Luke’s moods on most occasions, everyone wisely steered clear of any topic that could potentially set Luke off. But considering Dylan was in love with that very woman Luke had refused to speak of, he’d gladly take the risk of poking the hornet’s nest. “Some would say you were the one holding a grudge.”

  “Anyone thinks that needs to pop their head outta their ass.” Luke’s eyebrows snapped into a V. “You think a man wants to speak of his failures?”

  “So instead you pretended she didn’t exist?”

  “Damn it, it wasn’t like that!” Luke balled his fist and stared at it for a moment before unclenching his fingers. His entire hand shook in the aftermath of his outburst. “I love my daughter with everything I am. But what I am is a man who doesn’t know how to control his drinkin’. I can finally admit that.” He shook his head. “Only took me a lifetime and some serious soul searching in rehab to get to that point. Still, a day doesn’t pass that I don’t worry I’ll fall off the wagon.”

  Luke expelled a weary breath. “Moonshine—Zoe—needed more from me. Even back then I saw it. And every time I’d miss one of her birthdays or some important event in her life, it hammered home what a failure I was at being a father. Hell, a human being. So I’d drink more, deadening that sick feeling in my gut.” His knuckles whitened on the edge of the slide. “Only thing I’ve ever been good at is singing. Up on that stage, I was something. No one had to know what a mess I was off of it. But every time I looked at my little girl, I knew. That tiny perfect angel I helped create—she was a constant reminder of my failure.”

  “That is seriously fucked up.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” Luke tossed up his arms. “I told ya I’m one huge fucked up mess. Get the wax outta yer ears.”

  Dylan grunted. “Nice to see you’re back to being the dick we all know and love.” Despite his sarcasm, his mood remained pensive. The rift between Zoe and her dad might very well be an unconquerable divide. So much hurt and damage had been done, it was a wonder that Zoe had even allowed her dad to step foot on her property. But the fact that he was here, well, that gave them an opening to start repairing some of the hurts between them.

  And, God willing, pave the way for Dylan to build his future with Zoe and Hunter.

  He inclined his head toward the house. “Ready to go inside?”

  “She doesn’t really want me here. I could sleep in the van.”

  “Stop being a stubborn jackass.” Jesus, he was gonna have his work cut out with these two. “Now git your ass movin’ before I stick my foot up it. Though that might do ya some good.”

  Luke snorted. “Don’t think you’re completely in the clear of not getting your kneecaps busted. Especially if you don’t do right by my grandson and marry his mama.”

  Whoa. That came outta left field. Though truthfully he liked the sound of that plan. A lot. Now he just had to convince Zoe of it.

  They ambled up the back porch steps together. He lifted his gaze to Zoe’s bedroom and noticed the open window and the shadow behind the curtain. Zoe. How long had she been listening in? And more importantly, had it made a difference in her mindset?

  He opened the door and ushered Luke inside the mudroom. After leaving their boots on the mat, they journeyed into the living room. Malcom was already stretched out on the couch with a sleeping bag tossed over him. Dylan hitched his chin. “Where’s Trin?”

  “Guest bedroom,” Malcom grumbled. “She wouldn’t share the bed even though I said we could lay pillows between us.”

  “Wouldn’t let ya sleep near me either. Ya snore like a chainsaw,” Luke pointed out.

  Malcom snuggled into his downy cocoon, his smile beatific. “Guess you’ll have a hard time sleeping tonight then since you’re bunking with me.”

  Leaving Luke to curse over that turn of events, Dylan jogged up the stairway. Zoe was sitting on the foot of the bed, her expression closed. Weariness settled on Dylan’s shoulders like a horsehair blanket. “I take it nothing’s changed. Even with what you overheard.”

  “Why should it?”

  He sat beside her and caressed her cheek. “Do you love your dad?”

  She lowered her gaze. “Yes. But there are also times I hate him, Dylan.”

  “I understand t
hat, baby. I truly do. But sometimes you’ve got to let go of the hate. Before it cripples your soul. Pushing him away is hurting you just as much as it is him.” He swallowed against the thick emotion threatening to strangle him. “You can’t change the past, but you have a chance here to rewrite a different future for yourself.”

  He dropped his hand and laced their fingers. “My dad kept a box of scrapbooks of me and my brothers. I haven’t been able to bring myself to look at mine, but I did peek at Jackson’s. There’s all kinds of memories in there, but guess what? They all ended too soon. There’s a bunch of empty pages that Dusty was never able to fill. Baby, I don’t want that for you and Luke. I don’t want that for Hunter. Seize onto the chance to make new memories—better ones—before fate steps in and takes that choice away from you.”

  Zoe’s lips trembled and her eyes clouded with tears. “Damn it.”

  “I know, darlin’. It’s not gonna be easy. But I’m here for ya. No matter what.” He pulled her to him and hugged her tight.

  After he rocked her in his arms for several minutes, she sniffled and leaned away from him. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Do you need me to go with you?”

  “No, but thank you. It means a lot to me just knowing you’re here for me.” She gave him a tender kiss and headed for the stairs. He detected her deep breath before she took the step. That first one toward forgiveness was always the hardest.

  His chest tight, he listened to the muffled sound of voices downstairs and then the creak of floor boards. A moment later the backdoor opened and closed. If Luke somehow fucked this up with his jackassery, Dylan would be the one doing some kneecap busting.

  He waited for shouts and accusations to begin flying outside. When he was met with nothing but silence his senses prickled with warning. Maybe Luke had stormed off. Or Zoe.

  Unable to take the uncertainty a second longer, Dylan shoved up from the bed and crossed to the window. He eased the curtain aside.