Chapter 7

Am I the only one running out of people I like?

-Coffee Cup

Travis

349 days ago

I walked up to the convenience store, my goal being a Gatorade and a bag of pork wheels, and almost missed the woman that was headed in at an angle right along with me.

She had her face steady on her phone, so I noticed her before she noticed me.

Grinning, I opened the door and held it open, all the while she kept her eyes downcast on her phone.

“Thank you,” she muttered distractedly.

“You’re welcome.”

At the sound of my voice, her head snapped up so fast that she started to bobble her phone.

I caught it before it could hit the ground, and instead of handing it to her, slipped it into the back pocket of her jeans.

“T-thank you,” she murmured. “How are you?”

Her voice was low, intimate.

“I’m getting there, honey,” I told her, thankful that she asked. “Where ya headed?”

She smiled weakly.

“I’m in desperate need of a Butterfinger.”

I grinned at the thought of her being in desperate need of a candy bar. “Pork wheels and a Gatorade for me.”

She giggled. “What a balanced lunch we’re having.”

Wasn’t that right?

Hostel didn’t have much in the way of restaurants. One awesome burger place that I’d never have time to get to with the hour that I had left of my lunch break. A small taco stand that was always busy—lunch or not. And then the gas station.

I chose the gas station, but instead of getting my taquitos—fried corn tortillas filled with cheesy goodness—I decided that I was going with something different. And less heartburn-inducing.

“Yeah, a balanced lunch.” I chuckled. “That’s exactly what it is.”

She laughed all the way to the candy aisle.

I bypassed that aisle for the drink aisle and then grabbed the pork wheels on the way to the checker who was standing there looking bored.

“That all?” he asked me.

I pointed to the Butterfinger in Hannah’s hands. “That too.”

“You don’t…”

I looked at her over my shoulder. “You don’t pay when I’m around, sweet cheeks.”

She blinked. “You did not just call me sweet cheeks.”

I shrugged. “Would you rather honey bun?”

She huffed out a breath of air. “I’d rather my name.”

I winked at her and offered the man a twenty, then collected my change before holding the door for Hannah to walk out in front of me.

She did, and I got to admire her fine ass in her jeans.

She surprised me when she turned around, though.

“You want to grab something to eat later?”

I opened my mouth to reply, but she beat me to it.

“I’ll be at the burger joint in town. They’re having a PTA meeting there, and I don’t want to be alone.”

I snorted. “What makes you think I want to go to a PTA meeting?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. We can act like we’re there to be there, but really just ignore them and do our own thing.”

I thought about it for all of two seconds.

I really liked this one, and she was nice to my smart-mouthed daughter even when she didn’t deserve it.

“I think that sounds like a fuckin’ plan.”

Before I could say anything more, I got a text message.

“Shit, hold on,” I said when I saw Hannah about to reply.

I pulled out my phone and glanced at the screen, my brows furrowing.

“Sorry, it’s my daughter’s teacher asking for me to come up there.” I dropped the phone back into my pocket. “I’ll be there.”

Her smile was brilliant.

“I’ll be waiting…with bells on.”

The smile that lit my face at that, and all the way to the school, would’ve thrown red flags among not just one, but all of my brothers.

That smile died the minute I got into the school and heard what Alex’s teacher had to say.

I stared at my daughter’s teacher with dawning horror.

“She what?”

“She has lice.”

My mouth dropped open.

“She washes herself relentlessly!” I groaned.

My kid hated dirt. And when I say hate, I meant hate. She despised it. Loathed it. Anything that came as possibly ‘dirty’ to her, she wouldn’t go near it.

The teacher, Ms. Captain, smiled sadly.

“That’s sometimes the contributing factor in lice cases, Mr. Hail,” she apologized. “Lice likes clean homes, and little kids that have clean hair offer the most hospitable environment.”

I nodded in stunned horror.

Oh, God. Lice?

What the fuck did I do with that?

“I’ll take her home to her mother…”

The teacher was already shaking her head. “I’ve told Ms. Hail. She refused to come get her. I know that technically we can’t send her home due to discrimination laws, but she’s miserable. She’s itching, and it’s disrupting her schoolwork. I didn’t know what else to do.”

I nodded.

Why didn’t it surprise me that Allegra refused to help her own daughter?

“Okay.” I looked at my watch. I wouldn’t be making my date with Hannah. “I’ll take her home now. Thank you for calling me. I don’t want her miserable.”

She smiled sadly at me.

“She can return to school tomorrow…”

I held up my hand. “I’ll keep her home for the rest of the week.”

She looked relieved.

“Thank you.”

It was said so quietly that I had to strain to hear it.

My daughter and I walked out of the school minutes later, and I felt like my skin was crawling.

My first step the moment I got into the truck was to Google ‘head lice,’ and what I found literally made my breath catch.

Goddammit, lice were creepy.

Now my head itched.

But instead of freaking way the fuck out, I drove to the pharmacy, bought every box of Rid they had, and drove home.

The next step was to quarantine her to the kitchen. All of my furniture was cloth, and what I read in the articles said that you should clean everything cloth.

Since my daughter hadn’t been here in two weeks, I felt it was safe enough to say that I didn’t have an infestation in my house.

Her head, after closer examination, did.

I wanted to vomit.

I was a man. I could deal with a good deal of shit.

Hell, I was a Marine for twelve years. I’d seen blood, death, gore. You name it, I saw it.

I could deal with roaches and all kinds of gross shit—you see a lot when you’re repossessing cars—and not miss a wink of sleep.

But bugs crawling in my daughter’s hair? Apparently, that was the icky point.

My phone pinged as I saturated my daughter’s head with the first bottle of shampoo.

I ignored it, soaking my daughter’s beautiful hair in it until every inch of it wasn’t shining with the oily goo. Then I washed my hands and said, “Now don’t move for another ten minutes, okay?”

My daughter sneered at me.

What she didn’t do was move.

Whatever.

After making sure my hands were clean of the oily mess, I picked up my phone and read the first text message.

Unknown (12:33 pm.): Don’t forget to bring your cash. They’re selling booster tickets.

I smiled for the first time since I left her.

Travis (12:43 pm): Change of plans. My daughter has head lice. Everything itches (on me, not on her.)

I programmed her phone number into my phone and glanced up at my daughter.

“You okay?”

“Wonderful,” she shot back.

Great!

Not.

“You want some chocolate milk?” I asked her, starting to head to the cabinet to get her a cup.

“No thanks,” she said, stunning me with her answer. “It’s fattening.”

My mouth dropped open.

“Who told you that?”

“Mom.”

Fucking Allegra.

My phone pinged, so I shut the cabinet door and went for it.

Hannah (12:45 pm): Oh, no! Do you need any help?

I grunted, liking that she was willing to help.

What I didn’t want was for her to have the chance of getting it, so I said no.

An hour later, I was still trying to pick the little bitches out of her hair, and I knew that this wasn’t going to be done on my own. So I bit the bullet and sent the text that I didn’t want to send.

Travis (1:45 pm): I can’t get them out. Who the hell invented this stupid goddamn metal brush? It’s not picking up anything!

Hannah (1:47 pm): I’ll be there in ten minutes. Give me directions.

I did, and hit send, thankful that someone was coming to help me.

I could’ve called my mother, and probably should have, but the idea of having Hannah here while I went through this was enough to make me ignore the idea of doing the right thing.

I’d just gotten through another miniscule amount of hair when I heard the doorbell ring.

My heart leapt.

“Be right back, honey,” I said.

When I opened the door, it was to find Hannah standing there, a large bag in her hands, and in a new t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

“I brought sustenance. Take me to your leader.”

I snorted and opened it wide.

“Thank you, Hannah.”

She winked. “No problem.”

And she proved that by spending the next three hours picking the world’s worst thing ever out of my kid’s hair.

***

Present day

“I don’t understand,” I groaned to the sky. “Why is it always her making waves?”

“I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times,” Reed grunted as he watched the TV in my living room. “You’re fucking her over. You’re fucking everybody over for that bitch’s promise that she won’t do anything, yet, she is doing stuff. Your kid is a fucking asshole. I’m sorry to say that bro, but she’s Allegra’s mini-me, and she’s damn mean. She won’t even look at me without sneering. I didn’t even do anything to her.”

That was true, and the urge to jump to my child’s defense was high.

Yet, I couldn’t argue with him.

He was right.

Hannah, Reggie, and I had done our part in this. We’d done everything right. We’d bowed to everything that Allegra requested, yet Allegra continued to fuck me over. And in turn, continued to turn our child against me.

It hurt.

And obviously, I wasn’t the only one affected.

My mom was devastated. Allegra literally hated her guts, and after losing one granddaughter who moved out of state, and the other two grandchildren in the car crash…well, that was just the icing on the shit cake.

I looked around the empty house.

TJ was at daycare, Reggie was at school, and Hannah was at work.

This was my first day off in weeks, and I didn’t know what to do with myself.

I’d been on my way into work when my brother had called, telling me in no uncertain terms that I needed to turn my life around.

“What brought this visit on?” I asked, taking a sip of my beer.

It was ten o’clock in the morning, but I needed it.

I literally thought I might die without the beer.

“I saw Hannah’s brother today.”

My stomach clenched.

“Where?”

“The hotel.”

Fuck!

“What’s he doing here?”

I didn’t bother to ask him why he was at the hotel. I knew why.

“He’s here to see the kids. Hasn’t seen them in a while.”

I pursed my lips. “Did he bring Nikki and the kids?”

He nodded.

Wonderful.

I’d have to depart my residence to allow them the ability to come over and visit without adding that certain level of uneasiness that was always around when Michael and I were in the same room.

Not that I could blame him for hating me.

If anyone had done what I’d done to Hannah to my sister, I’d feel the same freakin’ way.

Goddammit.

Two hours later, I left my house for my brother’s house, and stayed there while Hannah, Reggie, and TJ caught up with their Uncle Michael. I’d return once Michael and his crew left for the hotel they would be staying at during their visit.

Lucky for me, I didn’t have to sleep on my brother’s couch because he’d rented a room. Unlucky for me, Michael was just leaving as I was arriving. I was treated to a glare from Michael, and a sad, uncomfortable grin from Hannah.

Just wonderful.