Scott—So I asked for my dad pt 1

The adrenaline was fading fast and I was exhausted. Thoughts of how very wrong this afternoon could have gone flooded my head. Lucky for me, however, I wasn't left alone with my thoughts for too long after being escorted to a precinct along with everyone else caught in the raid. 

"Care to explain what you were doing in an underground casino, hanging around known members of the mafia, with over 800 million dollars' worth of stolen art in it?" the fed asked. 

"Look, agent whoever you are, no I don't have mafia ties. I'm not your big whale. I did not engage in any illegal activities. I'm a wedding photographer, that's how basic I am. Also, you're welcome. If it weren't for me tipping my dad off, your bust would have been a bust. How long have you people been planning this raid? Based on how long you dragged your feet before you actually showed up, they still somehow almost one upped you, didn't they? Badge number J638493. If you want me to say another word, that's who I'll talk to," I said, leaning forward on the table in the interrogation room, my fingers interlocked. 

She set a file down and opened it up in front of me anyway. I sighed, throwing my hands up as she continued her line of questioning. 

"J638493," I repeated to her, for the umpteenth time. "Tell Jeff to make himself useful and get his innocent son out of here."

"You may not be guilty of anything criminal, but with a mouth like that, you're definitely not innocent," she said, getting out of her chair after thirty minutes of asking me questions I refused to answer. 

"J638493," I repeated, just as my dad came through the door. 

"I got this, Tanya," said my father, a disapproving scowl already on his face. "You have a lot of explaining to do, Scott," he said, taking Tanya's place. 

"Gladly. All yours," she said, smacking the file against my dad's chest. 

"We don't do explanations, Jeff. We do christmas cards and awkward texts," I said, already feeling myself getting upset. "I should have let them lock me up."

"Let's begin at the beginning, shall we? The faster you tell me what you know—" 

"Get real, Jeff. Even if I had turned into a gangster over the last seven years, you don't have shit. I can see that being possible from your point of view though, since you have seen me, what, five times in all that time? I don't owe you anything. Let them hold me as long as they can and then send me home," I said, looking at him with disdain. 

"Alright smartass, you want to play hardball? Fine. I'll call home and tell your mom that our son is being held in connection with a raid. Is that what you want?" my dad asked. 

"Do what you want. That's what you do, right, Jeff? Dump all the shit you can't handle at someone else's feet," I threw back at him. "Leave your wife and two children behind at the drop of a hat for some—" 

"Watch yourself and it's dad," he said with a sigh. "Look Scott, I'm just trying to help. Just tell me what you know."

"You lost them. You lost Don Cattaneo and Luca. That's why you're in here bothering with the rest of us," I concluded. 

"Worse. Marcus Cattaneo was found dead a few minutes ago. It's looking like a car accident, but we haven't ruled anything out yet. The other driver is missing and you were one of the last people to see him alive," said my dad. 

My mind instantly went to Stacy and Willow. Were they okay? Were they safe? I needed to get home. 

"Fine. What do you want to know?" 

My responses to the questions he asked me were vague and I didn't volunteer anything, just like he'd taught me to do. For the most part, I stuck to the truth. In another life, I would have been an FBI agent, just like him. That is until he left us high and dry for a woman almost half his age after cheating on my mom like some fucking walking midlife crisis. 

I kept Stacy, Kenny and Willow out of it, pretending I had gotten the invitation from Kenny, who had gotten it because of work. No matter how bad things were between us, I didn't want to lie to my dad, but I couldn't very well tell him the truth either. 

It was already after eight by the time my dad cleared me to leave. 

"Keep mom out of this. Your word, dad," I said, as I waited outside for my Uber. 

"Just, stay out of trouble. Okay?" 

"Whatever. Thanks for coming to get me."

"Maybe you and I can get some dinner," he said, hesitant. 

"Let's not. This day has been bad enough as it is."

I watched him walk away with a heavy heart. I was a mess. All I wanted was to hear Stacy's voice. So I called her while I waited for the Uber. 

"Scott? Where are you?" her anxious voice came over the phone. 

"Dude, are you okay?" Kenny chimed in. 

"I'm good, guys. Just walked out of a police station. I'll be home soon," I said, straining to keep the emotion of having seen Jeff for the first time in two years out of my voice. "Did Willow make her flight?" 

"Yes. She landed a while back," said Stacy. "Scott? What's wrong?" 

"Don Marcus is dead," I said, trying to throw her off the trail. "Are you okay?" 

"I heard. It was big news. Kenny covered it for his channel. Ended up getting an even bigger scoop than he imagined. Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, her voice concerned. 

There was no fooling her. Just then, my Uber arrived. I got into the car, closed the door and said to her, "Just keep talking."

She was quiet for a moment before she said, "So, you kissed me. Twice."