Not Exactly Innocent (On Hold)

Chapter 8~He Still Cares...A Bit

Haley's POV

There he was, just standing there. As if he hadn't ruined people lives and torn a woman's heart out. As if he didn't have a care in the world. I could go on and on about things like this. 

After we had arrived, Harrison took me to this abandoned train station and my dad he supposed to be here. He is.

"Hey man." Harrison walked over to my father and stuck out his hand.

"What's she doing here?" He snapped, looking straight at me.

"She like, really needed to talk to ya." My father growled and shook his head. The smell of old rotten wood filled my nose and I started to cough.

"I jus-" My father cut me off before I could say another word.

"You need to leave." His voice sounded different. Like...her cared maybe.

"Can I just-" He cut me off again to talk to Harrison.

"Look, she needs to go back. I al-"

"Shut up and let me speak!" I snapped, losing it. I was cold, hungry, angry, broken, hurt, and I really needed to talk to him. My father looked at me along with Harrison. "I need to speak to you. I didn't cross the freaking border and get nearly beaten to death just be be told to go home. Thomas," I spat, I just couldn't call him dad. "Take me some place where we can talk and not get interrupted."

Thomas looked uncertain and slightly scared of me. Darn right he should be.

"Umm. We can talk at a restaurant."

The ride to the restaurant was quiet and filled with tension. Harrison was sitting in the back constantly tapping his leg and I was sitting up front with Thomas. 

Pulling into a restaurant named "Los Cabos", Harrison broke the tension filled air. 

"I think I'll stay out here. Pick me up a burrito will ya?" He tried to add a teasing tone in his voice, but his voice just made me really angry.

"Good." I unbuckled and slammed the door shut. I have no idea what brought on all of this anger, but it was something. 

"Calm down, will you." My father voice sounded different today. It sounded like he was calmer than normal.

Maybe it's because he isn't drunk.

"What can I get for you to drink?" A nice Hispanic lady asked Thomas and me as we sat down at a newly washed table.

"I'll take a water, and..." Thomas said, guiding me to fill in the blank.

"I'd like a raspberry lemonade." 

"Okay, I'll be back in a jiffy to get your orders and bring out chips, okay?" Both of us nodded and the nice woman walked away, her small pony tail bobbing as she went.

"So what are you getting?" My father asked as he tried to strike up conversation.

"Probably a beef burrito with everything in it except the salsa and guacamole." I said, eyeing the menu that was in Spanish and English. I guess the woman could tell we were not Spanish kind of people and she knew English and Spanish.

"You never did like guacamole." I heard him murmur quietly.

"Wha-what did you just say?" I choked out.

"The first time you had guacamole, you threw up." There was a small smile on his lips that looked genuine.

What happened to the man who would hit me and demand for me to fight?