Very Wicked Things

Which was sad, but I got it. Emma didn’t have any siblings, just the one relative on her mother’s side who lived in Dallas and hadn’t been exactly thrilled to see us show up at midnight tonight with suitcases and a sob story.

But, she’d taken her in for the moment.

He sighed. “Damn, son. I hope you know what you’re doing. But, whatever you need, I’ll here.” His eyes gentled. “I’m not leaving.”

I nodded and we both sat there gazing into the shrinking fire. Yet as the room grew chillier, I felt warmer than I had in a long time.

Yeah, just yeah.

THE NEXT MORNING, Dad and I were making omelets, something we hadn’t done in a long time, when she sauntered into the kitchen, her hair a mess and a bemused expression on her face as she took us in.

“Morning,” Dad boomed, wearing an old apron, beating the eggs and milk in a bowl. “You want breakfast?”

She nodded shyly.

Dad grinned. “I’m Archie, by the way.”

“Dovey. Nice to meet you,” she said, looking around the kitchen. “Coffee?”

I poured her a cup, watching as she mixed in the cream and sugar and took a big gulp. She moaned. “I’m going to need about ten more of these, just so you know. That was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a week.”

My body heated, taking pleasure in that remark.

Dad poured the eggs on the griddle. “Whatcha want in your omlette?”

“Whatever you got, toss it in,” she said with enthusiasm.

Yeah, my girl likes to eat. Nope, not my girl, I reminded myself.

After the food was on the table, we sat down and dug in, and it felt bittersweet to have her in my house and at my table. I kept sneaking looks at her trying to catch her eyes and gauge her emotions, but she was closed off, her face a mask.

Later, when Dad went up to shower, she insisted on loading the dishwasher, and I watched her, wanting to tell her about Emma. But, I’d made a promise to Emma, and I wanted to do right by her. She wanted to wait about telling people until she was ready to confront the two guys who might be the father.

She needed time, she’d said.

“Dad called the garage and got your car fixed last night. It’s parked out front,” I said as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel.

She blinked, and I wondered if she was battling with that pride of hers. She surprised me though. “That was fast. And sweet. Will you tell him thank you for me? I don’t have the money to pay him now, but I will in a few months.”

He wouldn’t take her money, but I nodded. “Even if he is my dad, I know he’s a good guy, and he likes helping people.” I paused. “How’s Sarah doing?”

She immediately stiffened. “She’s fine, but I need to go home and check on things. And I’ll probably need to teach her ballet class this afternoon because I don’t think she’s up to it.”

“It’s still early,” I added. “Why don’t you stay a while and relax—”

“I can’t,” she said, her face distracted as she checked her messages on her phone.

My insides twisted. I just…I just wanted more time with her.

I found my balls and went with it.

“Let’s hang out today,” I said. “We can go to the movies or go to Portia’s for a cupcake.” I paused, unsure. “I—I remember you like the lemon flavored ones. Especially the icing.” I distinctly remembered me licking it off her lips one night.

Bleakness flickered in her eyes. Making me feel empty, too.

I took a deep breath. “I remember everything we did, Dovey. Every date, every kiss, every whispered word,” I admitted, my voice low, filled with—need? Shit, I couldn’t tell anymore. I just knew I didn’t want her to walk out that door because I sensed something was wrong with her, and she wasn’t telling me.

But maybe she just hated me.

She paled. “Cuba, you’re killing me. I’m not going to be lured in by you, so yeah, I don’t want to hang out and reminisce with you about our past. If you’re bored, you should call Emma. She’s your life now.”

Fuck. That hurt.

And right then I wanted to pound on the damn table and tell her that I didn’t want Emma. That I was not the father of her baby. That I wanted her. I’d never stopped.

But, I reeled myself back because her love for me was gone.

She gathered her purse up and turned to leave.

My stomach got in knots. “Dovey, if you need anything, will you let me know? Please.”

Her lips tightened. “I’m fine.”

I knew fine meant you were so not okay, but I let it go. I deserved her mistrust and all the shit that came with it.

And so, I walked her out and watched as she drove away. She had her life and I had mine.

I’d made sure of that.

“I wasn’t afraid of anything except my father.”

–Dovey

MY PHONE PINGED with a message during dinner with Sarah. Claiming a headache, I rushed up to my room to read it. I’d been waiting for this all day.

Warehouse tonight at midnight it said. Of course I knew who it was from.

By eleven-thirty that evening, Sarah was in bed, and I was in my car headed to Big Daddy’s Pawn.

Somehow, I had to convince him to wait for the sale of the house.

And if he didn’t agree, then I had another idea. A desperate one.

I knocked on the warehouse door and Blondie let me in, his face hard. No empathy there.