Irresponsibly Immortal

Chapter Nineteen

© 2020 just_cait_here

"Radio Station"
•••

Makoa POV

"Hey Dad."

The man before me looks just as much a mess on the outside as I know he is on the inside.

His clothes are rumpled, and I spot a few stains here and there, black bags hang under his bloodshot eyes, his hair sticks up in every direction, his shoulders are slumped, gaze empty.

"Makoa." She takes a step forward, wrapping his arms tightly around me.

I freeze like a deer in headlights, not sure what to do.
I can't remember the last time my father touched me in a way that wasn't out of anger.

My father lets go, looking at me.
"Where is she? Where is my daughter?"

I feel a pang of anger in my chest. He doesn't have a right to call her that.
Part of me wishes he never showed up at all, wishes he had failed my little test.

Because, horrible as it sounds, I don't think I can ever bring myself to a place where I think of my father as something other than a drunk scumbag who let his daughter die and abandons his kids for a few beers.

"If I knew where Bria was you can be damn well sure I would be there. Look here, the only reason I called you is because my wallet was stolen and I don't have a passport. Brianna is somewhere in Canada, the first step is to get into the country, second step is to find her."

"Yeah, yeah okay. Do you have any leads?" His voice is quaking, and he doesn't meet my gaze, his eyes submissively lowered.

I run a hand through my loose curls.
"Honestly, no. I sort of lost my best chance at finding her..."

Hell, I've lost nearly everything in the past week or so. Even the things I found I lost.

"You have absolutely no leads? How are we ever supposed to find her? It's not even a state we are searching- it's a whole damn country! It's hopeless... she's gone... another daughter, gone..."

I want to punch him.
"This is pathetic. Man up, Dad. Stop throwing yourself a fucking pity party and get in the car. We are going to Canada to find my sister."

My father winces, but does as I say, getting in the passenger seat. As soon as I start driving the wreck of a man opens his mouth again, his tone suspicious and distasteful.

"Why does it smell like flowers and honey in here?"

I nod towards the little air freshener.

Kenya had insisted upon getting it, declaring that my car smelt like 'something died than had little zombie babies that then ate a patch of skunk cabbage that they than threw up'... her words, not mine.

"Did you have a girl in here?"

"And if I did?" I reply challengingly, raising my eyebrows.

A few seconds of quiet.
"She already left, huh?"

I shrug. "She was just helping me find my sister, but things came up and she had to get back to her own life. No biggie."

"They always leave so soon...." Dad says quietly, his voice cracking.

"Maybe they do. But there's better ways of handling it than turning into a freaking psychopath who scares his daughter half to death and treats his son like both a punching bag and a servant." I keep my tone completely emotionless.