by Nash, Willa
The sun was beginning to rise outside, bringing with it a kaleidoscope of gold, apricot and pale turquoise that peeked above the mountain horizon. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep last night, but hours with Everly in bed and she’d worn me out. It had been more like a blackout than sleep.
“You can stay for breakfast,” she whispered, her eyes tracking down my abs. I opened my mouth to tell her breakfast didn’t factor into this sort of fling, but before I could speak, she laughed. “Just kidding. Will you flip the lock on the door when you go?”
“Yeah,” I breathed. At least she knew the score on this.
Going to the bar last night hadn’t been the plan. I’d been in my studio, working on a project, then before I could convince myself it was a stupid idea, I’d been driving across town.
I’d told myself I was just going to get some supplies from the gallery, a couple of canvases that had arrived last week that I hadn’t brought to the studio yet. One o’clock in the morning had seemed like the perfect time to go pick those up. And why not park on First instead of the alley? The exterior lighting was better, after all.
Standing on the sidewalk, I’d been feet away when Everly had come through the door at Jane’s. I’d stood there, silently debating if I should let her go or call her back.
Turns out, I hadn’t needed to do either. She’d stopped and turned on her own accord.
I’d made sure before taking one step closer that she’d known this was only for sex. That she knew it was just a fuck. The words had been harsh, but I couldn’t afford gentle. Not that gentle was my style, inside or outside the bedroom.
Everly didn’t seem to mind.
She snuggled into her pillow, her dark hair spread out on the cream sheets. She yawned and raised her arms above her head. That’s how she’d been sleeping—or nearly sleeping—when I’d roused to get dressed. Her lean arms had been stretched above her head, her palms open to the tall ceiling. And those caramel and chocolate eyes, sweet pools that I’d gotten lost in last night.
Goddamn, but she was gorgeous.
I tore my eyes away from her swollen lips and searched the floor for my shirt. It was comfortably resting underneath her panties.
“Don’t let this go to your head, Hot Bar Guy, but you sure do know how to pleasure a woman.”
A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth as I pulled on my shirt. “Not so bad yourself.”
“Seems like a crime against humanity to let such good sex go to waste.”
I froze. No. No, this wasn’t happening. I didn’t need her getting ideas about a relationship. I’d been careful. Crystal clear. This was purely physical.
A smile spread across her face and she giggled again. “You’re white as a ghost.”
“Look, I’m not in this for anything serious. Thought you knew that when I came up last night.”
“Just a fuck.” She quirked an eyebrow and propped her head up on an elbow. “I get it. The last thing I need right now is a relationship. I’m talking about some casual sex. No commitments. No expectations. It could just be a weekend thing.”
Fuck, that sounded good. I’d gladly lose myself in her body a couple times a week. But she’d been on my mind too much this week. She was a distraction I couldn’t afford. My attention needed to be on one and only one woman—or young woman.
Savannah.
“Don’t think that’s a good idea.”
She smirked. “Afraid you’ll fall in love with me?”
More like the other way around. Not that many loved me. But I didn’t need to have her get attached and be hurt when I walked away. “I’m not the loving kind. And these things never end well.”
“Fair enough,” she said.
I bent to grab my boots, yanking them on at the sudden urge to get the fuck out of this apartment before I caved. Sex with Everly was tempting enough I might break my own rules. Hell, I already had.
The two of us had chemistry off the charts. We lit the bed on fire, and I hadn’t even had time to play. Maybe if it was a once-a-week hookup. Maybe—
Focus, Hux.
I walked to the door, not letting myself look back.
And as Everly had asked, I locked it on my way out.
“Hey.”
I flinched, my heart leaping into my throat as I walked into the kitchen. “What the hell are you doing here?”
My question was answered with a frown and eye roll. “Nice, Dad.”
“Sorry. That’s not what I meant.” I sighed and crossed the room.
Savannah stood beside the fridge with a bowl of Frosted Flakes. I didn’t eat that cereal, but I kept a box on hand for mornings like this when I’d wake to find she’d snuck into my house.
“Hey, baby girl.” I dropped a kiss to her forehead.
“Where were you?”
“Uh . . .” No way I was telling her I’d spent the night with a woman. But my silence was enough because my daughter was not stupid.
Savannah’s face scrunched up and she wiped the spot where I’d kissed her forehead. “Ew.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked, more than ready to change the subject. “Does your mother know where you are?”
“Of course not.” She shoved a spoonful of cereal into her mouth.
“Savannah.”
“What?” Milk dribbled down her chin as she talked.
I tore a paper towel from the roll and handed it over so she could wipe her face. Then I went to the cupboard and took out a coffee mug. While my cup brewed, I studied Savannah from the corner of my eye.
Her blond hair was in a ponytail. She’d cut it this fall, after the incident at the farmhouse, and when she left it down, the ends drew a straight line across her shoulder blades. Normally, it was straight and sleek, but today, it was rumpled from sleep.
Her violet-blue eyes were droopy, like she’d just woken up.
At some point last night, she’d come to crash here. And I’d been gone. Fuck.
Just another reason this whole thing with Everly needed to end now. I should have been home when she’d snuck over.
“What happened last night?” I asked.
“Nothing.” She took another bite to avoid the real answer.
I took my mug, sipping the steaming coffee, and settled against the counter. If I had to wait until she was done eating, so be it.
My daughter had inherited a lot from me. Oval face. Straight nose. Stubborn attitude.
She had my blue eyes too, though hers were brighter than mine. Her irises had a tint of violet at the center like nothing I’d ever seen. She was the loveliest thing in my life. No artwork I’d ever paint could compare to my daughter’s delicate beauty.
She’d be even prettier without the lingering sadness on her face. All I wanted was for her to wear a lasting, genuine happiness. I wanted her to live a life with exponentially more good days than bad. But to do that, I had to get her away from her mother.
If we had lived in a different state, that task would have been much easier. Savannah would have been old enough to simply decide. But in Montana, kids didn’t get a choice once they turned thirteen or fourteen. Her fate—my fate—was in the hands of a judge.
Savannah continued to eat her cereal but if she thought she was leaving here without an explanation, she was wrong. When she finished, she tipped the edge of the bowl to her lips and guzzled the milk. Then she put it in the dishwasher along with the spoon, giving me a smile as she tried to scurry away.
“Not so fast.”
She stopped, her shoulders falling.
“What happened last night?”
“Nothing,” she muttered. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“So you drove that dirt bike here in the middle of the night in the snow, snuck inside and crashed in the guest bedroom?”
“Pretty much.”
“Not buying it.”
She turned around and rolled her eyes. “Mom and Julian were being loud.”
I grimaced and stole her expression. “Ew.”
“Exac
tly.”
“I don’t like you riding around town on that dirt bike on the snow. The roads are slick.” Especially at night after anything that had melted during the day froze again.
“I’m careful.”
“You need a car.”
“I like my bike.”
I frowned and took another sip of my coffee. That bike was partly my fault. Whenever she needed money, I handed over a wad of cash. I’d missed enough time with my daughter. Since I couldn’t exactly take her shopping in public, making sure she could buy whatever she wanted seemed reasonable. How the hell could I have known that she’d save all that money and buy a fucking dirt bike?
I’d offered to give her money for a car instead, but she’d always refused. Something about that dirt bike was precious to her. What, I had no damn clue.
“Any car you want. It’s yours.”
She shook her head.
“A sports car. A truck. A bug. A minivan. Pick one.”
Savannah dropped her gaze to the floor. “No, thanks.”
“Why don’t you want a car?”
“I like the bike.”
“You like riding it in the freezing cold?”
She shrugged. “I don’t mind. I have a coat.”
“Fine.” There was no use arguing if she’d dug in her heels. Maybe if she was living here, she’d be more apt to take me up on a vehicle with an actual roof and acceptable safety rating. Maybe she’d explain why she loved that bike.
Maybe if she was living here, I’d actually get to know my daughter.
We’d grown closer, slowly, over the years. With the too-short visits and, lately, the surprise sleepovers, I learned more and more about her all the time. But I didn’t know Savannah.
I hadn’t earned her trust.
A fact that broke my damn heart.
“Where do they think you went?” I asked. They being April and Julian.
“I left a note that I went to Candy’s house.”
“Who’s Candy?”
“My friend.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I’ve never heard of Candy before.” But then again, I didn’t know who she hung out with.
“Because Candy doesn’t exist. I made her up.” The devilish grin that spread across Savannah’s face made my heart plummet. At that age, I’d had that same grin. And it had gotten me into a lot of trouble.
“Savannah,” I chided.
“What? It’s not like Mom checks with other moms.”
“But what if she does?”
“Then I’ll give her a fake number or something. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter because Mom won’t check. She doesn’t care.”
No, April didn’t care. She’d never really cared.
April loved April. April’s number one concern was April. Beyond that, she made sure to spend Julian’s money and satisfy his fetishes during sex. At least that was the rumor around town. April had hinted to her friends one too many times that Julian liked it rough.
Some people around town, like Duke, had interpreted the rumors to mean abuse. Duke had hinted to me once that he thought Julian beat the hell out of April. He’d never admit it publicly, not without proof. He was one of the few in Calamity who didn’t hold the Tosh name in high regard.
My guess was that Julian liked to play in the bedroom. And April would do anything to ensure she kept her husband, and his checkbook, happy.
It was none of my business how April and Julian liked to fuck as long as they kept the goddamn door shut. It was when their actions impacted Savannah that I had a problem with their sexual tastes.
Last night wasn’t the first night Savannah had come here to escape Julian and April. About two months ago, she’d confessed that April and Julian had forgotten to close their bedroom door. Savannah had come upstairs at her mother’s cry, only to catch them in the middle of some play.
Savannah was too young to learn about that shit.
It was just another example of how April made sure to act the part of Savannah’s mother, though it was all smoke and mirrors. And if there was ever the opportunity to punish me again for the sins of my youth, April wouldn’t hesitate.
If April knew Savannah had slept in the guest bedroom last night, she’d throw an epic fit. She’d call the cops and have them haul Savannah home, no matter the time of night.
That’s what had happened for the past two years.
Savannah would sneak over here and somehow April would find out. April would call the cops and Duke would show up with no choice but to drag Savannah home.
I didn’t have custody. My child wasn’t allowed in my home.
Duke would have to carry Savannah out of here, kicking and screaming and crying. I’d scream too, pissed as fuck, because we all knew it was bullshit. Except he was bound by the law. And I had no rights.
None.
Savannah, my beautiful and stubborn girl, kept returning. And I’d never turn her away. She’d gotten better at hiding her visits. And if she was here, I made sure to sneak her out the back before I opened the front.
“Where did you park the bike?”
“A few blocks away in an alley.”
Christ. “And walked here in the dark.”
“I had my pepper spray.”
A decent father would put an end to it. My neighborhood was safe but that didn’t mean bad shit didn’t happen. A good dad would have been here when she’d shown up.
But like Savannah knew I wouldn’t turn her away, I knew that arguing with her was pointless.
We wanted to see one another. And until a judge granted me the legal right, well . . . sneaking in time with my kid was the lesser of my past crimes.
“Anything else happen last night?” I asked.
“No.”
“He didn’t . . .” I could hardly stomach the words.
Savannah shook her head. “Julian doesn’t touch me.”
That was a lie.
But I’d called her on it enough in the past five months. No matter how much I pressed, her story stayed the same. Julian doesn’t touch me.
Except for the day of the farmhouse. Maybe there were more times, but that was the only time I knew for sure it had happened.
According to the various testimonies from that horrific day, Julian had slapped Savannah.
She ditched school because of it. Her friend Travis found her crying, and rather than tell an adult, the two sixteen-year-olds cut class and went to one of their regular hideouts, an abandoned barn beside the farmhouse.
Travis, the more level-headed of the two, convinced Savannah to talk to someone, so they walked to the farmhouse. Lucy was living there. Everly had just arrived in Calamity. They welcomed the kids inside, where Travis confessed that they’d skipped school. He also let it slip that the reason was because Julian had slapped Savannah.
I wished to God what had happened next hadn’t.
When Everly came to Montana, Lucy’s stalker had followed, right to the farmhouse. The demented bitch held the women and the teenagers—my baby girl—at gunpoint. There was no doubt the stalker would have killed Lucy. Probably would have killed them all. The woman had been unhinged.
Thankfully, Duke had gotten there in time and saved their lives.
But that day at the farmhouse had taken its toll.
Savannah had changed since then. Gone were the desperate attempts for attention. Gone was her fight.
So I’d pick up the sword and do whatever it took to help my girl.
Over the past five months, I’d been exploring options with Aiden. In Montana, the court system used parenting plans to determine custody arrangements for minors. The crux of the parenting plan was that the parents agreed.
If the mother and father could agree upon an arrangement, it was blessed by the court.
Aiden had tried approaching April. Month after month, he’d offered her new terms. She’d string us both along, every fucking time. She’d pretend to agree. She’d offer a few counters. And right before it was time to take it to court, she’d te
ll us both to scrap the plan and start again.
I really, really hated my ex-wife.
April wasn’t going to cooperate, no matter how amicable we were. Meaning it was time to let a judge decide. The next step was filing a petition and initiating a contested proceeding, something I’d never done with success.
Maybe the seventh, eighth, ninth time—I’d lost count—was the charm.
The entire thing would be easier if Savannah would admit that Julian had struck her. Or if she would talk about the physical violence he showered on April. But Savannah was as tight-lipped about what happened in that house as ever.
Why? No idea.
“What are you doing today?” I asked her, going to the coffee maker for another cup. It was time for a new topic. The last thing I wanted was for Savannah to feel like when she walked through my door, all she got was an interrogation.
That, and I was terrified of scaring her off.
Did other fathers worry about alienating their teenagers? Because besides her getting hurt or sick, that was my number one fear.
“It’s Valentine’s Day,” she said.
“Do you have a”—my heart dropped—“date?”
I wasn’t ready for boys yet. I hadn’t had enough time with Savannah to myself yet. Competing with a teenager didn’t seem fair.
“Sort of.” She shrugged. “Travis asked me to the movies. He gets an employee discount.”
Travis. And I used to like that kid. “Want to ditch him? Hang with me instead?”
“You don’t have plans?”
“I’m not the Valentine’s Day type.”
The corner of her mouth turned up. “I kinda wanted to see the new movie. It’s only here for another week.”
The theater in town was small and played two movies at a time. Usually one was for kids and the other was the big box office hit. The hit movie didn’t stick around for long, only a week or two tops, which meant if she wanted to see it, the time was now.
I hated the movie theater. The seats weren’t as comfortable as my couch. There was always that one person who laughed too loud or talked too much. Not to mention, if April found out that Savannah and I were together, I’d be in deep shit. She’d make a note to add to her endless list of my violations, and when we walked into court, she’d roll them out for the judge to see.