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“Looks like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.” Papa pulls out the chair next to me.
“Just got a lot of shit on my mind.”
“This don’t have anything to do with Rochelle and Colter does it?”
“Naw. I’m not stressing that. I know he’ll treat my girl right. He has you for a father.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He takes a hard pull off his longneck beer.
“You should. He’s a handsome little fucker too.”
“He does look like me, don’t he?”
“Fuck he’s a spitting image, man. Except for that white in your hair.” I chuckle and he shakes his head. Papa got his name for his looks. Namely his hair. Going white at his temples and a few other spots like an old man. “You should be proud.”
“I am. We may be in-laws one day.”
“Slow down. Rochelle ain’t getting married anytime soon.”
“Keep telling yourself that. What’s got you looking ready to shoot the clubhouse up?”
“Ruthie wants another kid.”
“And you don’t?”
“Hell no. Having Rochelle is plenty. I’m not ready to go back to sleepless nights and diapers. Long past that stage in life.”
“I can understand that. Sometimes though I think it’d be nice to go back. Shit was a lot less complicated back then.”
“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” I mutter and finish off my beer.
“Need another?” Kristen nabs my empty bottle.
“No thanks, darlin’. I’m about to ride out, but I’m sure Papa here could use some company.” I push my chair back as she drops into his lap.
“Later, brother.”
“I’ll see you at the wedding.” His head falls back, and he howls with laughter.
“Fuck off,” I grumble and shove a cigarette between my lips.
“Who’s getting married?’ I hear Kristen ask as I walk out.
Asshole thinks he’s real funny. That shit ain’t nothing to joke about. I’ve decided I’m locking Rochelle in her room till she’s thirty.
Rolling up to the house, I’m not ready to have Ruthie and Alexa under the same roof, but don’t have much of a choice. I park my motorcycle in the garage. Walking into the house I hear giggles coming from the kitchen.
Fuck. I shoulda stayed at the clubhouse tonight. Anywhere else but here.
“We’re in the kitchen, James,” Ruthie calls out.
I stomp into the room, relief washing over me when I see it’s only my wife and daughter sitting at the counter eating the left-over cupcakes.
“I see you made it home in one piece.” I rub my palm over the top of Rochelle’s hair, scuffing it up.
“Ugh, Dad,” she whines.
“You have a good time on your date?”
“Our little girl is growing up. Had her first real kiss tonight.”
“I don’t need to hear that shit.”
“Whatever.” Rochelle rolls her eyes. “Do you want a cupcake?”
“I’m good. Alexa not staying over?”
“She’s here. I think she’s taking a shower or getting ready for bed.”
“Right. You girls don’t stay up too late.”
“We won’t.”
Ruthie shadows me to our bedroom and closes the door. “Did you think about what I said?”
“Nothing to think about.”
“I want a baby.”
“Ask your boyfriend then.”
“Why are you being like this?”
“Like what exactly? Reasonable. An adult. You think another kid will magically fix this?” I shrug my shirt over the back of my head and toss it into a nearby hamper.
“I don’t know but don’t we owe it to ourselves to try? To my father to carry on the family.”
“I’m not fighting with you about this.” I kick my jeans off and grab my pillow off the bed.
“What are you doing?”
“Going to the couch.”
“Rochelle has a friend over.”
“And?”
“I don’t want her gossiping at school that Rochelle’s dad sleeps on the couch.”
“Who gives a fuck about what some school kids think?”
“I do. It’ll get back to the other cheer moms.”
“You’re fucking ridiculous you know that.” I shake my head and go to the living room, grabbing a spare blanket from the hall closet as I go. Flopping down on the couch, I grab the remote and turn some action movie on. I toss and turn until about two in the morning when I hear someone in the kitchen. I peer over the back of the couch and see Alexa standing in front of the sink. Her blonde locks hang down her back and the pale green shorts she’s wearing hug her ass. I should roll back over and pretend to be asleep, but find my feet carrying me to the kitchen because I’m a damn glutton for punishment.
“Can’t sleep?” Alexa jumps at the sound of my voice and turns to face me. Tears rolling down her cheeks. On reflex I go to her, wrapping my arms around her, pressing her head into my chest.
She gazes up at me. “I’m sorry. I thought I could do this but being back here... Brings the nightmares back.”
“It’s okay.” I kiss her forehead, and she tilts her head up more, her lips calling to mine like a damn siren calling to a sailor at sea. “Is there anything I can do? Ruthie takes sleeping pills. I’ll get you one if you think it’d help.”
“No. No pills.” She shakes her head. “I know you’re mad at me for coming back, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go out into the world while knowing you were back here. I don’t have anything if I don’t have you in my life.”
“Lex, we can’t do this.”
“Yes, we can.” Her sweet breath fans over my mouth, and like a magnet I’m drawn straight to her. My hands roam to her hips, and I lift her onto the counter, her legs hooking around my waist. Dipping my head, I capture her mouth with mine, greedily taking whatever I can get of her.
“Why can’t I give you up?”
“Because you love me,” she whispers and kisses my palm.
I step away and shake my head. I take one look at her, and I know I am so damn fucked I need a new word for how gone I am for her. I must be crazy. My wife and daughter are right down the hall. Either of them could wake up at any moment and find us together.
“Go to bed. I’m gonna talk to your folks about you coming back home tomorrow.”
“I’m not going back. You can’t make me.”
“You can’t stay here.”
“You want me to go say the word.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Is it because of your wife?”
“Don’t go there.”
“Why? If you can’t be honest with me then who can you trust?”
“I trust you, Lex, it’s me I worry about. I can’t keep my hands off you, baby.”
She pops off the counter, padding barefoot across the room, quiet as a mouse. Circling her arms around my waist, she whispers, “I don’t want you to.” Her nipples rub against me, poking me through the thin fabric of her tank. I want nothing more than to strip her bare and kiss her all over.
I breathe her in, getting a whiff of her coconut scented shampoo.
“Get some sleep.”
“I don’t want to sleep.” Alexa’s dainty fingers slip inside the waistband of my boxer briefs. I grab her hand, preventing any further contact.
“Alexa,” Rochelle calls out.
“Go.” I move away from her.
Alexa nods and exits the kitchen. I grip the edge of the counter and let out a breath. I need a joint.
Out in the garage I fire one up. Then like the sorry bastard that I am I jerk off to thoughts of fucking Alexa bent over the hood of my wife’s car.
**
“I’m sorry, sir, but you can’t go in there. Dr. Neville is with a patient.”
I narrow my eyes on her. “Tell him James Thatcher is here to see him about his daughter.”
She finally looks at my cut and recognition dawns on the receptionist’s face. “Right away.” Her throat bobs, and she nearly trips over her own feet as she scurries down the hall.
A minute later the door opens, and the weasel shows his face. “You have no business coming here. We have nothing to discuss.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Your daughter needs a place to live.”
“I no longer have a daughter.”
“No you don’t. Alexa is dead to you, but I’ll tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to furnish an apartment to finish out the school year and supply her a car. And if you don’t not only will I make a call about the abuse she endured living under your roof, but I’ll also see to it you lose your license to practice.”
“You don’t scare me.”
“No?” I lift him by his throat and laugh as he struggles to free himself. “Don’t even think about it,” I warn the woman at the desk when she goes to pick up the phone.
I drop him.
He rubs at his neck. “Alexa won’t get a dime from me. Might as well pass her around at your clubhouse, but to be honest I doubt she’d be worth the trouble.”
I lean in close. “If I were you, I’d sleep armed and with one eye open. If I see you even look in her direction, I’ll buttfuck your world so hard you’ll beg me to end your meaningless life.”
The worthless asshole pisses himself.
“I’ll see myself out.”
I’m almost out the door when he calls out, “Wait.” I turn back, and he cowers under my stare. “Let me write a check.”
“No. You lost your chance to do the right thing.”
“What do you mean?”
“Alexa doesn’t need you to take care of her. I’ve got her covered.”
“You come back, and I’ll press charges for assault.”
“Right. One eye open.” I slap his shoulder then depart.