Creed’s Honor by Simone Nicholls
Four Weeks Later
I had taken on more responsibility at work. The emergency department was always running behind in staff and beds and was never quiet. I’d like to say that it was only work that kept me away from my family—but it wasn’t. In the last month, I hadn’t stayed at home for one night. I hadn’t gone to one Friday or Sunday family dinner night or gone to any of the club parties.
I had avoided calls from my dad completely and only answered a few of Mum’s and Ivy’s. I also hadn’t been answering Kobra’s. I did send him a happy birthday message yesterday, though. I had a feeling that because his birthday had fallen on a Saturday—well, the usual club party would have been bigger.
I, however, didn’t go. I couldn’t face them because I was keeping a secret, one that would be best kept to myself and away from my family.
I was talking to another doctor when the triage nurse power-walked towards me. Looking rather scared, she said someone was demanding to see me at the desk. My stomach twisted. I knew it was either Kobra or Dad.
Before we reached the desk, she informed me she had called security, just in case.
My gaze landed on my father, and I tried to take a calming breath before swiping out through the security doors. I think the nurse thought I was insane, willingly going out there—all while Dad glared at me, very intently.
Moving through the waiting room, I knew a lecture was coming. So I walked into one of the waiting rooms that had glass walls.
Seeing the security guards heading this way, I put my hand out, stopping them from entering.
Dad scoffed loudly. “So this is what it’s fucking like now?” He angrily ran a hand through his greying hair and shook his head furiously. “Can’t fucking have a conversation with you without guards at the door?”
I sighed, looking him in the eyes. “Dad, you are wearing club colours at a private hospital, and you look like you’re about to lose your temper. They think you are a stranger, and an upset one at that.”
He scoffed loudly again. “Well, they wouldn’t be far off it, would they!”
Guess I deserved that.
“What’s wrong? Why are you here?” I got straight to the point. I was busy. I watched his eyes harden on me.
“You don’t answer your phone.” His intense dark blue gaze was on me. He could easily read me, which was why I needed to keep my shields up. “You don’t fucking come home, either.”
“Dad, don’t you have better things to do than to monitor me?” I snapped, feeling my anger rising. After all, I was his daughter. “I have a life, Dad. I have a career. What do you expect?”
“To be in your life!” He looked at me as if that was obvious. “Holly, what is going on with you?” He shook his head like I was a stranger. “You didn’t come to Kobra’s birthday. Ollie and Connor are looking for you. Yer Mum is cut up thinking she’s done something.”
I remained quiet.
“Come on, little one, just tell me what’s wrong.” He took a step towards me, and I stepped back, my eyes going to him from the carpet. His expression dropped, seeing me stepping back. He made a noise of disbelief. “You know, Holly, I’m starting to think yer ashamed of us. Like yer leaving this family.”
“Well, Dad, you are the one who made sure that the brotherhood was linked into our family.” I looked at him, dead in the eyes. “And that’s fucked up.”
What had gotten into me? What had taken me from always believing the Kincaid motto that the club was family to this? Well, Dad patched Creed back to his table, proving to me, again, that the club came before family. The club came before me.
That hurt.
Sort of like how it hurt when I realised my dad would accept the man who broke me back with welcoming arms. Even gave him a promotion. Creed was VP now to the Mother Chapter.
“I’m not answering your calls. I’m not answering your messages and seeing as you aren’t picking up the hints, I’ll tell you straight. I am done with the club. And I know what that means.”
He stared at me. Emotionless. He was looking like the ruthless president he was meant to be.
“I will not spend the rest of my life acting like what you taught me and how I was brought up is normal. It’s not.” I shook my head, feeling the rage creeping over me. “I spent my childhood drawing criminal tattoos instead of unicorns and rainbows!” I balled my hands into fists at my side. “You wanted to know if I’m ashamed of my family? The answer is yes! I’m reminded every time someone asks me about my family! When someone asks me, what do your parents do?” I felt hot, angry tears coming. “And I can’t say that my dad is a doctor or lawyer or, fuck, anything. Because what do you do, Dad?”
I knew I was hurting him. But I couldn’t stop the words.
“You run a criminal organisation, and while I’m doing good in that emergency room, I have to pretend that half the injuries that come from the streets aren’t caused by you.”
The anger that had been on Dad’s face when he arrived was gone. Instead, he just stared at me, and I was waiting for him to drag me back to the house, maybe even lock me down till I changed my mind. But instead, I watched his lips twitch up dimly, an expression on his face that I could only put down to heartbreak as he looked at me.
“When I held you for the first time, I knew you deserved better than me as a father.” He swallowed sharply. “I’m sorry, Holly.” And with those words said, he brushed past me, leaving, but I saw the tears in his eyes.
I didn’t know what was worse—that I made Hades Kincaid cry, or that I didn’t go after him.
* * *
Being an adult meant you needed to take responsibility for your actions. It meant, when you fucked up, you had to own it—face it. But I knew as I walked into my family house for the first time in a month, it wasn’t going to be easy. I had ripped my father to shreds. I ripped apart everything that made him who he was. I had never been so ashamed of myself. After Dad left, I had to fight with myself to get through my shift. I realised that I was that girl. The one that spat in her family’s face after they were the ones to get me where I was.
I would not be a doctor today if it weren’t for my parents paying for my degree, and I would have huge debt against me. No, Dad paid for my degree upfront. I was only able to dedicate so much time to my studies because my father made sure I didn’t have to work part-time. He converted a room into a study for me.
And how did I repay him? I ripped him apart. I made him doubt the fact he was a good father. But worse than that, I made him think he wasn’t a good person. Everything I accused Dad of being today was all the things I loved about him, and that made him who he was.
Walking into the foyer, I saw his study lights on. Well, our study’s lights on. I felt the guilt of what happened overcome me.
“Holly, sweetie, you’re home!”
I spun around and saw Mum.
“Your dad said you were pulling doubles. He was under the impression that you wouldn’t have any time off coming up.” She hugged me. “I’ve just got to give Ollie her teddy. Can you give this to your dad?” She handed me a sheet of pills before going upstairs.
I paused at the study’s door, then knocked before opening it.
Dad didn’t look up. His eyes were locked on something on the double desk. I remembered spending hours studying with him in this room.
“Dad?” My voice broke as I spoke, and he looked from the laptop to me. I could tell from one look at him that he had a headache, maybe a migraine coming on. I swallowed sharply and knew if I didn’t speak quickly, he would dismiss me.
I closed the door behind me.
“When I was in the fourth grade, I told everyone that my dad was my superhero.” I blinked back tears. “And in my mind, you were. It was a boy, Brett, I think.” I tried to recall the boy’s name. “And he told me that my dad was a criminal, and you’d go where all criminals go.” I failed to hold back the tears, and they dropped. “I punched the boy in the face. You’d remember because I broke my finger, and you were really mad because I got sent home, and you told me there was no excuse for violence.”
I leant back against the study door.
“So I had to write the boy an apology letter, and you made me hand-deliver it.” My eyes went to the photos on the walls, all of his family. “What you don’t know is I wrote at the bottom of that letter, in our childhood code, that he sucked, Kincaids ruled, and I wasn’t really sorry.” I shook my head at my own past behaviour, and I looked back at him. “Anyway, I handed that letter to him and walked back to you because you waited out the front of his house in Mum’s car for me.” I breathed sharply. “And I got in the car, said I had done it, and you turned to me to say, ‘I’m so proud of you, Holly. You’re a good person.’” My voice broke, and the tears just dropped so bloody quickly. “At that moment, I knew I had let you down. I knew I had failed you, and I wasn’t the girl you thought I was, and I certainly wasn’t a good person.”
I let out a sigh, wiping the tears away, and then looked back at him.
“That was the first time I had lied to you.” I clenched my hands tight. Okay, this next bit was going to be harder. “The very next day after that, we went to the hospital to get my finger strapped. And I asked you why did that lady help me. You said to me, ‘That’s what doctors do. They are good people and help other people get out of pain.’”
I still couldn’t believe it had taken me so long to tell Dad this.
“I got home that same day, and I knew I wanted to be a doctor because I wanted to be a good person. But mostly because I wanted you to be proud of me.” I blinked back tears. “I wanted to be the girl that you thought I was.” I let out a long breath. “This afternoon when I said I was ashamed of—”
“Holly,” Dad said, and I shook my head, keeping him from stopping me.
He deserved a lot more than an apology.
“Let me finish,” I quickly spoke. “I said I was ashamed of you.” I felt my stomach tighten. “I had no right to say that. I had no right to abuse you like that. You’ve only ever done good for me. And I wouldn’t be who I am now if not for the man you are and who you shaped me to be.” I hiccupped tears. “You are an amazing father to us kids, a husband that only has eyes for his wife, and an incredible president.” The tears just overpowered me. “And I’m so sorry that I made you second-guess any of that—” I had to pause due to crying before I inhaled sharply, just as he pulled me into his chest. I didn’t even hear him get up. “I let you down,” I said in his arms, and I felt like a complete failure. “I’m a brat.”
“Took you ten years to be one,” he said, his voice calming and controlled as he hugged me. I felt tiny in his arms. “Geez, Kobra and Ivy put me through the paces when they were fourteen.”
I pulled back, staring up at him. “I think I outdid them both.” I felt nothing but mind-crippling guilt. “I hurt you.”
His gave a soft smile, and he wiped away the tears from my cheeks. “Sometimes we all say things we don’t mean, Holly. Or things we regret.” He dipped his head when he saw the shame in my eyes. “Though I am thankful for something,”
I frowned.
“I didn’t know your eight-year-old mind was listening to all the shit that came out of my mouth. Fuck. I’m thankful I said a doctor was a good person and didn’t say that the meth addict we sat next to was.”
I broke out laughing.
“Sure they might be a good person,” he quickly recovered, “but not the lifestyle I wanted for my daughter.”
“Speaking of drugs.” I unfolded the crumpled foil packet in my hand. “Mum told me to give you these. Guess I caused a headache?”
He took the packet from me. “Wondering why she hadn’t come back with them.”
“Are you okay, Dad?” I asked as he walked back towards his desk, grabbed his whiskey, and threw back the pills. I gave him a pointed look at that. He should know better.
“I thought I lost you today, Holly.” His eyes lifted from the whiskey glass to me. “To say I was freaking out about telling yer mother was an understatement.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He waved it off. “I honestly thought that she’d freak the fuck out, worse than when I lost Kobra at that bloody amusement park.”
I held back a giggle.
“Nothing tested yer mother’s love to me more than when I told her I lost her firstborn.”
I smirked, and he pointed his finger at me. “You’ve been the easy one. Didn’t lose you like Kobra, nor did I let you get a tattoo at fourteen.”
“I still can’t believe Ivy got that tattoo.”
“I thought she was talking about those fake temporary ones,” he muttered, before sighing. “Nope, not Ivy. Fucking got the anarchy symbol at fourteen! Hell, I doubt she even knew what it meant!”
“She had a crush on a boy whose name started with A.” I shed some more light onto Ivy’s teenager motives. “She thought it would impress him.”
The expression dropped off Dad’s face. “Well, that makes it a whole lot fucking worse.”
I giggled. “Come on, Dad, just think—you’ve got all this to look forward to with Ollie.”
He scoffed. “That’s if I survive you and your late rebelling.” He gave me a pointed look, causing the smile to drop from my face.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I promise all my rebelling is over.”
He scoffed. “Let’s face it, Holly. What ya did tonight wasn’t fully out of line. I made you question if I put you first, before the club.” His eyes locked with mine. “Don’t think I didn’t connect me patching Creed as VP and your sudden disappearance together.”
I just shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t want him taking the blame for what I had said. I owned it. And I wasn’t going to use his decisions at the club against him.
“There is blame on both sides, little one,” he added.
I nodded my head, but the truth was, there was another reason I was keeping a distance between my family and me. And that was due to black and blue bruises on my body…