Leira [Completed]

Chapter Eight

"It is always hard to hear the buried truth from another person..."

—

JUSTICE'S POV

"I never thought I'd see you again," my long-lost father admitted. "How have you been doing, Son?"

I was rooted to the spot, unable to find the right words. I did not trust him, but I could not deny a connection. I wanted to find Hope and Tyler or just anyone I knew to escape from my current circumstance.

"I'm alright," my reply was short and difficult to force out. I had several questions I wanted to ask and answers I needed but I did not want a negative turn in our conversation. He might not gladly respond to every one of them.

I did not know much about him besides the fact that he was affluent before prison. I felt an overwhelming urge to conceal myself from the attention we were getting. If I had to talk, I would rather we communicated alone.

Then, as if he could read what was racing in my head, he eyed the crowd around us with a glare that brought a certain message. They scampered away immediately, leaving just me and him.

"How have you been for the last eighteen years?" he asked, and I was rather shocked by the question. His tone held genuine care and interest.

Seeing as we were finally alone, I replied with a longer answer, "It has been quite ordinary. Though I was brought up by my sister and Uncle Tyler because I had no...parents. How were your years? I hope it hadn't been awfully unpleasant..."

I hoped I did not pose a question he did not want to answer. Despite the craziness of it all, talking to this man did not seem as dreadful as I thought it would be.

"It thankfully wasn't as horrible as I assumed. I have a myriad of connections in this town and leaving that place was not impossible," he finished his sentence and gave a smile. Truthfully, I did not think the man was incapable of it after the incredibly harsh glare he sent to his group of protectors.

I wanted to ask what he and my mother did to land in prison but decided Hope should explain that instead. She hid the truth about my parents for years and I wanted the explanation to come from her.

"I want to tell you something, Son," he told me in a low and serious voice, causing me to pay utmost attention to his next words. "Whatever your sister says in the near future to explain who I was, know that I would never harm my son."

"This was intended to be given to someone else, but you should have it as well," he handed me a folded piece of paper. "With this, you will be able to reach me again."

Just as he said it, footsteps were heard sprinting towards me. I looked over my shoulder to see my Uncle Tyler with the most concerned look plastered on his face. His eyes landed on my birth father and an expression of panic and terror was displayed on his face. Recognition crossed both of their faces the second their eyes met.

"Justice, are you okay?" he asked before he spat at my father. "Stay away from him!"

"I could end your life with a simple word, Tyler. But seeing as you've helped raise my son, I'll let it slide." My dad's voice sounded different when he spoke to me. This time, his voice was threatening, confident, and rough.

His eyes landed on me for a short period, then he took his leave without a second word.

"What are you doing in this place? If your sister finds out you've been here or talked to that man, she'll—" he discontinued his sentence and let out a soft sigh.

"How did you find me?" I dismissed his last question.

"Your Uncle Gray taught me how to track your phone a few days ago. I didn't waste a second after Ash called and said that you left home." Grayson was another long-time friend of Tyler and Hope who I shared an exceptionally close relationship with.