Bad Dad

by Sloane Howell

  I swear I couldn’t have made it up if I tried. The door closed behind Logan and he walked to the car. Lightning cracked overhead, and the immediate thunder seemed to pick up the building and shake it at the same time the man in the hood dropped his finger.

  I shuddered. Freaking thunderstorms.

  Logan’s father closed the small gap between him and Hastings. Hastings’ eyes widened like saucers, then his brows narrowed into a V.

  Then he did possibly the dumbest thing I’d ever seen a man do. He poked Goliath in the chest. “Listen here—”

  The hood tilted down to the finger, and then back up to Hastings’ face. Hastings tried to look tough, but his face was pale as a ghost, and sweat beads formed along his hairline.

  The hood glared lasers at Hastings. “Don’t touch me.”

  Hastings’ hand dropped like it might fall through the floor.

  “D-dad?” Cory Hastings eased open the office door.

  The hood shot to Cory for a quick second. He glanced at Hastings and then back to me and then back to Cory. His voice softened a hint while he looked at the boy. “Sorry.”

  He turned and headed toward the exit, but stopped at my side. He looked straight ahead. Straight where his son sat in the car, waiting. “Logan won’t be back.” He paced down the hallway.

  I turned and watched him leave. I stood there, mouth wide open, catatonic, brain short circuiting all over the place. Logan’s father disappeared through the double doors, and I blew out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

  Oh my God.

  Maybe Desire, Montana wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  “Okay, we ready?” Principal Williams strolled up from the other end of the hallway.

  You’ve got to be shitting me.

  CHAPTER 2

  Landon Lane

  WAVES CRASHED ON THE BLACK shore. I stared out into the dark nothingness. The middle of a volcano belched hot embers and ash into the sky behind me.

  A hand gripped my shoulder.

  While sleeping, your ears picked up stimuli. If the stimuli was strong enough, it triggered the reticular activating system. It jolted your brain from a rested state.

  My eyes vaulted open. Time stalled, and I hovered between two worlds.

  “Dad?” Logan rubbed his eyes.

  Two legs of the chair I sat in slammed down and made contact with the carpet. I’d been leaning up against the wall. It catapulted me into the present. I reached up and smothered the tiny hand on my shoulder.

  Logan sighed and stood in front of me. “You’re out here again.”

  I glanced around and the haze between my ears dissipated.

  The current world came into focus.

  “Sorry, buddy.”

  His arms wrapped around me. “It’s okay. Were you dreaming?”

  “I think so.”

  “I’m big you know? You don’t have to sit outside my door while I sleep.”

  “I know you are.” I mussed the hair on his head. I needed to sleep outside his door. He didn’t know why, and it would stay that way. It was for me more than him. “Go back to bed, big man. You need the rest.”

  He patted my shoulder with more maturity than a seven-year-old should possess. “Love you, Dad.”

  “Love you too, buddy.”

  His door squeaked shut.

  My foot kicked up against a book I’d been reading. Year of Yes by Shonda Rhimes. Janet suggested I read it since I always said no to everything. The bookmark sat across the carpeted hallway. It was likely flung there when I’d been startled. I leaned back against the wall and tried to keep my eyes open. It didn’t work.

  “YOU’RE GOING DOWN TODAY.” I hovered above Logan’s bed and shook him awake.

  “Good one.” A sly grin spread across his face, his eyes still half drooped. He rubbed one of them with a knuckle.

  His arms stretched up over his head. Somehow Logan could spring to life in a nanosecond.

  He flipped over and sprinted down the hall. I gave chase.

  Two minutes later we sat in front of the TV. The only one in the house.

  “Hey, you’re cheating!” He shoved a shoulder into me.

  I grinned at the monitor. Logan got thirty minutes every morning to play video games.

  I feigned innocence at his accusation. “Did not!” I nudged him with an elbow.

  His grin was the only thing in the world capable of brightening my existence.

  “I’m coming back. You’ll see.” His tiny fingers went to work on the controller.

  “Yeah, we will see.” I could understand why kids played those games for hours. Not Logan, though. I wanted him to have a normal childhood more than anything—riding bikes, playing outdoors. I owed him that much. And I knew I was the number one obstacle standing in the way. I was lying to myself. Huge hypocrite. Letting go seemed impossible. There was no way he’d ever have a normal childhood. We were on a collision course with my past and I knew it. It was only a matter of time. I told myself it was over, and they’d forgotten about me. If they wanted to find me they would’ve already. Lying to myself was something I was very good at. We can only do our best.

  With victory in my grasp and twenty-four hours of bragging rights at stake, Mario shot past me right before I crossed the finish line.

  I stared wide-eyed at the controller as if it had betrayed me. I flung myself on my back.

  Logan jumped up and pointed down at me. “Told you!”

  “That’s it!” I leaped up and threw him onto the couch.

  He squealed mid-air. I chased after him and locked him up tight in a hold. We wrestled around, and I hit all his ticklish spots. His giggles made life exciting. He finally rolled me over and tangled me up in an armbar I’d showed him. He could’ve snapped that kid’s elbow at his school with it. But he didn’t. It was confirmation that I was raising him well.

  I managed to look defeated and tapped out on a cushion.

  Logan let go and jumped up on the couch. “The WMMA championship belt is mine!” He flexed both biceps. I couldn’t stop smiling if I’d wanted.

  After a few brief seconds of taunting, he flopped down next to me. We sat there in silence.

  “Dad?”

  “Yeah, buddy?”

  “Am I in trouble?”

  We hadn’t spoken of what happened since we left school the day before. I turned to him. “Should you be?”

  “I don’t think so.” He shrugged.

  “What happened?”

  “Always tell the truth, right?” His chest rose and fell back down when he sighed.

  I nodded. “Always.”

  He looked at me and shook his head. “I didn’t hit him.”

  “I know.”

  Logan stared down at the floor. His grin vanished. “How?”

  I ran a hand through his mop of brown hair and thoroughly disheveled it.

  I couldn’t believe the burst of anger that had ripped through me at the school. And the man’s son had nearly seen it. If anyone should’ve been in trouble, it was me. “Because I taught you how to hit someone.”

  Logan nodded and stared straight ahead. “He made me mad.”

  His self-control made my stomach flip harder. “It’s normal to get mad, buddy.”

  Logan stared up at me. “We were at recess, and Cory cut in front of me on the slide. I told him it was my turn but he didn’t listen to me. I told him again and he turned around and told me to shut up.” Logan shrugged again. “So, I told him he could go first. He laughed and told me I couldn’t go down after him. That’s why I’m not sure if I did something that made him hit me.”

  Would men of any age ever stop fighting over control?

  “What do you mean?”

  “I went down anyway.” His head dropped. “I didn’t hurt anyone. I just wanted to play.”

  “And he hit you when you went down the slide?” I knew the answer before he said it. The saddest part was that I pitied Cory. That behavior wasn’t hardwired. It was learned.

 
Logan’s head stayed angled to the carpet. “Yeah.”

  I wrapped him up in a giant hug and my stomach tensed. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” I dropped a kiss on the top of his head and turned him to face me. I lifted his chin with my index finger. “Nothing wrong. You did everything right. I’m proud of you. Okay? You did good.”

  He nodded.

  “And even if you mess up, which you rarely ever do, I will love you the same—no matter what. You know that, right?”

  He smiled.

  “Only in danger. Right, Dad?”

  I nodded. “Only in danger.”

  That was our thing. No fighting unless we were in danger. Only to protect ourselves. I’d nearly broken our one rule in the hallway.

  The doorknob on the front door turned and clicked.

  Logan’s eyes darted behind me. His face paled. Eyes widened.

  Shit.

  Our little bonding moment was cut short when the front door slammed shut.

  “Landon Lane!”

  “I’m gonna go to my room now.” Logan tried to sneak off.

  Nope.

  “You’re not going anywhere either, boy. Have a seat.”

  I twisted around to face judgment.

  Janet glared in our direction. She folded her arms across her chest. She didn’t look like much at five-foot-five and fifty-two years of age, but she packed a pair of iron fists and a mouth that went with them.

  She started toward us. “Now, I have seen a lot in the time we’ve known each other. But I thought we were on the same page here. Then I get a call on my cell phone earlier.” She patted the side of her purse for emphasis.

  This won’t be fun.

  “Since somebody doesn’t believe in cell phones. Yeah, your little ‘off the grid’ routine jumped up and bit you square in the ass this time, didn’t it, Landon?”

  Logan giggled.

  I flashed him a traitorous glare.

  Janet snapped her fingers and we both bolted to attention. “They called me down to the school. I figured there must be an emergency. So of course, I take off to go see what’s wrong. And do you know what they asked me when I got there?”

  She took another step toward us, and my heart jumped up into my throat. I shrugged and gulped. “They, umm, try to sell you something?”

  Logan shook against my leg and held in a laugh.

  Janet’s eyes widened. “Don’t get a smart mouth with me.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” Logan and I uttered the words simultaneously.

  She cocked her head to the side with the fakest smile I’d ever seen in my life. “They asked me, if Logan will be coming back to school.” Both hands went to her hips. “I said, surely he will. Why would he not?” She drew out her words, a slow and deliberate scolding.

  I held both hands up. “There’s an—”

  She shushed me with her stare. “They told me that a man in a hoodie, that happened to be Logan’s father, came in yesterday and yanked him out.” She froze in front of me with her foot clearly in striking range. It tapped on the floor. “Said that Logan wouldn’t be back. Said that’s pretty much all the man said. No paperwork. No proper procedures for doing things.” Her eyes grew wide. “Now.” She shoved her glasses up her nose—used her middle finger, of course—then held out a palm toward Logan. “Why don’t you tell me why this boy’s father would do such a thing?”

  I knew Janet loved Logan, and me, well, most of the time. Both of us were like sons to her, but he was my responsibility. My face heated up when I thought about that school and that asshole parent. Logan needed to socialize and make friends and be a normal kid. We’d talked about it in depth. But something about him being so vulnerable out in the world, and my past always lingering on the horizon—anxiety coursed through my blood at the thought. Was it my own ability to let go or genuine concern for his safety? It toed a fine line.

  I stood up and towered over her.

  She didn’t so much as flinch.

  My brows narrowed. “You’re going to have to homeschool him.”

  “But, Dad?” Logan shot a stare up at me.

  Janet wagged a finger in the air. “Nuh uh.” She turned to Logan. “Why don’t you head to your room so I can chat with your father a little more?”

  I nodded to Logan to let him know it was okay. He bolted out of the room without thinking. Benedict.

  She lowered her voice, but her words came out like a growl. “You cannot stick him in a bubble. It’s not fair and it’s not right. You know that.”

  I shook my head. “He can still be normal. We’ll go to the park—to ballgames.”

  “Yeah, and you’ll look over your shoulder everywhere you go? Paranoid? What kind of life is that for him?”

  “I’m doing the best I can. I don’t want to broadcast our whereabouts any more than I have to.”

  Rocks crunched a hundred yards away on the gravel outside.

  My head whipped to the door and back to Janet. Her eyes grew wide, fast. There was no way she heard it, but she knew my expressions like the back of her hand. The only two cars that knew where the house was were already present. Her face paled when she heard the vehicle.

  “Get in the back with him, now!”

  She scurried to Logan’s room. I flew to the kitchen and removed a false panel from the top of a cabinet. My palm pressed against the safe while I stared behind me. The screen identified the creases of my hand and I retrieved my Beretta M9. I shoved in the clip of fifteen 9 mm hollow points and rolled the suppressor onto the end of it. More than enough ammo to go around. The metal slide clicked when I chambered the first round. I shoved it behind my back into my waistband.

  Held my breath and listened.

  Four tires. Hybrid engine. Weird. It’s why I heard the rocks crunch first and not the motor.

  The engine grew louder as it approached the house but was still nothing more than a hum. Was that their plan? Sneak up with a quiet vehicle before we could flee? I went out the back door and around the side of the house to assess the situation.

  What the fuck are they doing here?

  The car door closed. Only one. Driver’s side. I heard it as I rounded the corner. Whoever it was didn’t try to mask their presence or they’d have left the door open and not shut it. Details like that mattered.

  The cool Montana breeze whipped against my face. I glanced around the brick wall on the side of the house. A newer model light-blue Prius sat in the driveway. I’d expected black.

  My head shifted along the horizon but only found the sharp-tipped mountains decorated with pines and a blanket of snow around the top. I sidled along the garage door and up toward the porch. It was hidden from my view.

  Right as I peeked around the corner a voice rang out. Her voice. “Mr. Lane? Logan? You here?”

  I exhaled and pulled the gun from behind me. Unrolled the suppressor and shoved it in my front pocket. I decocked the Beretta and snicked the safety on, then stuck it back into my waistband.

  She beat her fist on the door and raised up on her tiptoes like she might be able to see through the peephole. She was still just as beautiful as she was the previous day in the hallway. I could’ve stared at her for hours.

  She wore jeans—tight Levi’s that hugged her ass just right. I took in a deep breath and stared at her as she lifted up on the balls of her feet. Same blue Chucks with red laces.

  If circumstances were different. If I was different—normal.

  Her stretchy red tee rode up and exposed a thin swath of flesh on her lower back and the soft pale curve of her hip. Ms. Chapman dropped, and her curled brunette ponytail swayed back and forth like a pendulum.

  I pushed my hood back from my head and pretended to clear my throat.

  She jolted and whipped around to face me. I’d never forget the way her eyes locked on to mine when she saw my face for the first time. My stare shifted down and I sized her up.

  Her tits were even better than I had imagined in her loose blouse at the school. She was perfect. My dick warr
ed with my brain over the fact that I needed to get her away from us. I didn’t want to be an asshole, but I didn’t want to be polite and invite her inside either. “What are you doing here?” It came out harsher than intended.

  She shuddered, and her eyes narrowed. “You don’t have to be rude.” She rested her palms on her hips.

  I stared at her hands. Mine belonged there.

  She couldn’t be here. How’d she find our house?

  My shoulders relaxed when I exhaled. I needed her gone. Sometimes diplomacy solved problems faster than intimidation. It seemed the case with Cora Chapman. “You surprised us. How’d you find the place?” I started toward her.

  She stared at my feet as I neared.

  I assessed her further with each step—upturned nose, puffed out chest, hands trembling.

  Her heart pounded. I could see it on her neck.

  Eyes dilated.

  Shoulders constricted.

  I sensed these things like a person recited the alphabet—trained my whole life for it before I escaped. Was built for it.

  Part of me enjoyed the whole charade a little more than I should have. I made her nervous. And I liked that. Wasn’t sure why. But I liked it a lot.

  She inhaled a huge breath of air. Even though her body was in a state of chaos, her eyes stayed steady. “School records.”

  A lie.

  I stared harder. “How’d you find us?”

  She looked away. “I followed Janet.”

  I glared at Logan’s window. I’d talked to Janet about checking for tails. She’d been careless.

  Make her leave. It’s too risky.

  I leaned down to eye level. “Logan’s being homeschooled now. And we’re a little busy at the moment. So, if you don’t mind...”

  Her jaw tightened. “I came here because I’m worried about him.”

  My face heated. What a ridiculous excuse. She’d been his teacher for all of three weeks. “He’s fine. I promise. Please leave.”

  She met my stare and shook her head. “He’s a good boy. He’s doing so well. Please.”

  She had balls. I’d give her that much.

  I could appreciate her concern. I’d have loved for Logan to go to school without a worry in the world. Dreams were dreams, and reality was reality. There had to be hundreds of other kids that could be pet projects for her to worry about. This felt personal.