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“Where’d you hit him?”

“The head,” I said flatly.

Pops went quiet again. I watched him lean back in his wheelchair. He was staring at me like he was trying to process everything that I had just told him.

“Where’s the body?”

“Still out there.”

“You left him?”

“Yeah.”

“Were there any cameras?”

“Not that we saw. The place has been shut down for years. Ain’t nothing out there but some old rides and boarded-up buildings.”

Pops nodded while looking down at his hands for a moment. I could see his mind going into overdrive.

“Did anybody see y’all?”

“Not that I know of.”

“I know that you are smart enough not to touch anything. Did Tahari?”

I shook my head.

“Nah. He left the money Ghost brought right there and everything.”

Pops rubbed his jaw, thinking.

“Shit, that probably was my damn money from when they robbed the shop of them bricks,” he said lowly before sitting back further in his chair.

I watched him for a moment. That was it? After everything I had just told him, that’s all he had to say. I leaned back in my own damn chair. His face was twisted in thought. I knew my father. Those mental knobs were turning.

“Pops, I know what you’re thinking.”

My entire life, this man sitting in front of me had lived to make sure that his family never had to do what the fuck I had done last night.

“No, you don’t,” he said as he looked me deep in the eyes.

“I know you’re mad.”

“I’m not mad, MJ.”

“Then what?”

He looked at me for a long moment.

“I never wanted this for you.”

Something about the way he said it bothered me. Not because I didn’t understand what he meant, but because he was looking at me like I had disappointed him. I glanced down at his wheelchair before meeting his eyes again.

“And I never wanted this for you.”

Pops followed my gaze.

“Son…”