I stared at the bottle of whisky on my kitchen counter. I’d been staring at it for the last five minutes. My body screamed for it, but my head told me if I had any chance at getting my shit together, I needed to empty the bottle down the sink. Memories of my mother drinking at six in the morning flashed in my mind. Her passed out on the couch in the afternoons when I’d come home from school. Her yelling at anyone who tried to help her. It was like a goddam assault with these fucking memories. They punched me in the gut and told me I’d become her.

I was an addict and a mean one at that.

Unscrewing the lid, I picked up the bottle and drained it down the sink. My hand shook a little, but I ignored that. I wasn’t a fucking alcoholic. I could live without this shit.

“You kicking your habit?”

I glanced up to find Charlie standing in the kitchen doorway. Her eyes were firmly on the bottle I held. There was no point denying I had a problem. She was a smart kid. “Yeah.”

She came closer, her eyes lifting to mine. “Good.”

We were like two fucking peas in a pod. Both unable to say anything else, but there was a tension or an emotion or some shit surrounding us that I knew we both felt by the way we silently watched the bottle empty.

My heart raced in my chest. I had to kick this fucking habit, if not for myself, for her. Screwing up my relationship with her the way my mother had with me was not something I wanted to do.

When every last drop had trickled from the bottle, I threw it in the bin. She nodded slowly when I found her eyes again. She then broke through the tension when she said, “That shit’ll kill you eventually.” They were the words I’d said to her about smoking.

I inhaled sharply and then let the breath out. “Yeah, it will,” I agreed. Not wanting to talk about this any longer, I said, “You want some eggs for breakfast?”

She sat on one of the stools at the counter. “We got any bacon left?”

We.

It fucking melted my cold heart. I’d lived my life without her in it for so long and hadn’t thought a moment like this would ever happen. My resolve to kick the whisky to the kerb strengthened.

Pulling the bacon from the fridge, I said, “Yeah. You want cheese in your eggs?” I’d watched her scrambling some eggs, and she’d loaded cheese and chives in there. “And chives?”

If I hadn’t been watching her so intently, I would have missed the look that ran across her face for a split second. She hadn’t expected me to know that. She didn’t acknowledge it, though. “And onion, please.”

That was possibly the first time she’d used her manners willingly with me. I’d pulled her up on it repeatedly, and she usually rolled her eyes and added a please or a thank you.

I reached for an onion. “You got it, sweetheart.”

She sat watching me in silence while I cooked. It wasn’t until I placed her eggs and bacon in front of her and pulled up the stool next to her that she said, “What time did you get in last night?”

Charlie had been here for almost two weeks and not once had she asked anything about my whereabouts. I always made sure to know what she had planned for each day, but she didn’t seem to care about anything I did. This was another first for her.

I poured sauce on my plate. “I just came home about an hour ago.” I’d stayed at Monroe’s after we’d cleared the air. She’d kept me awake until just after three. When I’d left her, she’d complained that she probably wouldn’t be able to walk today. Knowing my woman would think about me every minute of the day when she tried to walk or sit or do anything made me one happy asshole.

“So you’re seeing Monroe now?”

“Yeah.”

“I liked her.”

I glanced her way. “Her advice pay off with that little shit you’re dating?”

She rolled her eyes. “Why do you hate on him so much?”

“I don’t trust him.”

“You don’t even know him.”

I put my cutlery down and turned my body so I could face her. “A man doesn’t need to know a boy to see him for what he is, Charlie. You forget that I’ve been where he is now. I met your mother when I was sixteen and chased the shit out of her trying to get in her pants.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh God, I don’t need to know about your sex life with Mum.”

I hid the smile that provoked. “What I’m trying to say is that I know all the sixteen-year-old-male tricks. I know he’s trying to get in your pants, and I don’t fucking trust him not to hurt you.”

She sat with that for a beat and then said, “So you and Mum were together from sixteen?”

I frowned. “She never told you about us?”

“Not really. All she ever really said was that you guys got married at nineteen and had me ten months later. I tried to ask her stuff, but she always got sad whenever I mentioned you, so eventually I kinda stopped asking.”

I smiled as the memories came back. “I’d always seen your mum around school. She was the chick who used to tell teachers to fuck off, the girl who smoked down the back of the school, the one who the boys all wanted a shot at. She never looked twice at me until the day I involved myself in an argument she was having with one of the school bullies. She’d stood up for the kid he was roughing up. I knew she didn’t have a chance in hell of winning against him, so I stepped in and helped. Of course, that pissed her off, that I took over, but she at least knew my name after that.”

Charlie had stopped eating, too, and rested her elbows on the counter, chin in hands. She appeared to be enjoying this conversation. “You beat that bully up, didn’t you?”

I chuckled. “Not fully, but I had to show him that messing with Tenille was a bad idea.”

“So how long after that did you two get together?”

“She kept me hanging for a good month or so. Your mother was smart. By the time she finally said yes to a date with me, I was like a fucking puppy following her everywhere.”

“I can’t even imagine that about you.”

“Oh, you better fucking believe it. Tenille fucking owned me.”

She pushed off the counter and sat ramrod straight on her stool. “How could you leave her, then?” The question fell from her lips softly, almost as if she was scared to ask it.

This was the question I’d prepared for over the years. I’d lain awake countless nights unable to sleep, imagining having Charlie back in my life. I’d pictured our reunion, and this question had played in my mind like a broken record. But sitting face-to-face with my daughter and trying to express my reasons was far different from doing it in my mind.

“I’m not sure you’ll ever be able to understand this, but I did it to protect you both. I got myself into some bad shit and threats were made against our family.” I didn’t want to get into too many of the details with her. Hell, I didn’t want her to know that this shit went on in the world, but I had to give her something to help her grasp it.

She sat in silence, and I held my breath waiting for her response. Finally, she ran her fingers through her hair and said, “You’re right. I’m not sure I’ll ever understand that. Mostly because—does that stuff really happen in real life or just in the movies? But, I know you’re a biker, and I’m not clueless, so I know you’re into bad shit.” She paused. “I still don’t get how you could leave Mum if she owned you, though. And you left me, too.” Her voice wobbled on that last bit, fucking slaying me.

“Fuck, Charlie, adult shit doesn’t make sense half the fucking time. When you love someone the way I love you guys, you do anything to keep them safe. I’d rather you both be sad than dead.” When she didn’t say anything to that, I added, “I’ll always regret what happened back then. If I could take it all back and be the father you needed while you grew up, I would. But life doesn’t give you a second go at shit, so here we are, stuck with my choices in life. You’ll never know how happy I am to have you in my life again. I just hope you’ll give me a chance to show you that I can be a father.”

“It’s weird for me because I already have a dad.”

She still referred to Craig as Dad, and rationally I understood that, but the possessive side of me fucking hated it. I figured she would always call him that, and I’d always be Aiden to her. I just had to find a way to make peace with that and allow her to have us in her life however she needed. Not how I needed.

I nodded. “I’ll always be grateful to him for what he’s done for you.” That, at least, was true. “But you need to know that I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care how long it takes you to accept me. I won’t be leaving again.”

She took a deep breath and then exhaled. This had to be a lot for her to process. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

She picked up her cutlery. “Yeah, okay, I get it. You’re not gonna stop bossing me around. But just so you know, it’s hard enough having two parents telling me what to do. If I’ve gotta put up with you, too, I’m gonna need something in return. Like balayage or some shit.”

“Yeah, good try, sweetheart. You think I don’t value my balls? Your mother would fucking kill me if I paid for that.”

“Ugh. Well, you’re gonna have to come up with something. I’m not down with having three of you all over my shit unless I get stuff out of it.”

My kid was the fucking shit. I couldn’t have asked for a better one.

“What the fuck is balayage anyway? It’s a weird fucking name to call a hair colour.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “Oh, Aiden, you have so much to learn.”