Bad Dad

by Sloane Howell

Holy shit. I gulped. “Okay.” I turned to walk inside. Landon spun around to leave.

  “Goodnight.” I said it over my shoulder. Couldn’t watch him walk away.

  I started to step inside and never heard a sound.

  Hands.

  Big, rough hands.

  On my arms.

  The world was a blur.

  Landon spun me around in one smooth motion and his palms were on the sides of my face. His hood was down. His lips collided with mine.

  My eyes shot open. My heart exploded.

  Waves of tingling ripped through every limb. My whole body tried to melt into the ground. His hungry tongue shoved against my lips until I opened up. He licked and explored like he’d just made a new discovery and wanted to stake claim on every bit of it. Our tongues swept across each others and he pressed harder and harder against me. Yes, yes, was all that went through my mind as my eyes fluttered closed and my mind focused on every tiny sensation like I might not ever experience a kiss from Landon Lane again. His fingers raked through my hair and my arms locked around his neck. We fused together perfectly, like we’d finally put together the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle. My forearms pressed up against his hood that was bunched up against his neck.

  I think he held me up. Wasn’t sure. Didn’t care. Neurons fired everywhere and all of them funneled straight down to my clit. I couldn’t believe how wet I was for him. Adrenaline flooded my body.

  I’d never been kissed like that in my life. He swallowed the breath from my lungs. Ate all my words. A hungry growl came up from his throat and I felt it on his neck. Jesus!

  I wanted more. Needed more. My fingernails raked up his nape and his hand fisted into my hair. He drove my mouth harder onto his like he would never have enough of me.

  His mouth moved to my neck and I thought I’d burst into flames. He licked to my ear and I gasped. He sucked down my throat and hit the magical spot halfway between my collar bone and my ear. A moan parted my lips.

  “Fuck.” His voice thundered against my neck, and my pussy clenched at the sensation.

  I made some kind of a whimper and dug my nails into his scalp. I was weightless. Helpless. He could’ve done anything he wanted to me and I would have let him. Every cell in my body screamed his name.

  He kissed a trail up my jaw and back to my mouth, and he pressed his lips against mine once more. Just lips against lips. He held me there for what seemed like forever.

  Finally, Landon sighed against my mouth and took a step back. Flipped his hood up and regarded me from the darkness once more. His massive, hard chest that’d just been pressed up against me and sent me reeling over a cliff, rose and fell in huge waves. “Goodnight.”

  I stood there, panting—staring. Mindless. Thoughtless. Brain completely wiped clear. Heart thumping on my ribs. Each breath a herculean effort to suck oxygen back into me. I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t do anything but stare.

  He turned and walked to the driveway. Stepped into his car and left.

  CHAPTER 11

  Landon Lane

  I WALKED DOWN THE SIDEWALK toward Gus’s gym like I did any other day of the week. Same route. Same fifty-five steps, before a left turn for another twenty-seven. Right in the heart of Missoula. I hadn’t turned on the radio the whole drive over. Wanted to think about things. Those things being Cora. Fucking hell, that kiss. Her neck. Her tongue.

  The real world beckoned the second I walked into the gym. I needed it to get my mind off her. A ruckus came from the rear of the building. Voices argued.

  I sprinted back.

  Sam had a finger in Gus’s face. “I don’t give a fuck. I don’t back down from anyone.”

  I knew what it was about already.

  Sid Kayzo.

  What was with that name, anyway? I knew him as a serial number.

  Not much in the world ever put a shudder through me, but Sid, yeah, he did it. Sam had no chance. Gus was doing him a solid if he was trying to prevent a fight from happening.

  Of course, Sam was the number one MMA fighter in the world. The champion. Guys like Sam couldn’t be expected to roll over for anyone. He couldn’t anyway, really. Even if he wanted to. Gus had to have anticipated the reaction.

  “Just, calm down and let’s think things through.” Gus had a hand up.

  Sam turned to me and shook his head. Held a palm out at Gus. “You believe this shit? This guy gets me to number one. World champion. And now he’s worried about my safety?” He stared back at Gus. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but you train fighters here. Fighting is what we do.”

  I halted in the middle of the office when I realized it wouldn’t be more than a conversation between them. I didn’t want any part of their bickering. “Come out and go a few rounds. Cool off for a bit.” I reached out for Sam’s forearm.

  “Get tha fuck off me!” He took a swipe at me with a backhand.

  He didn’t try to hit me. Was just waving me off. But I reacted. It wasn’t everyday someone threw a backhand my direction in public outside of the ring. It was the first time, in fact. Instincts kicked in. I caught his arm in the palm of my hand like it was nothing and bore down with my fingers. Sam’s face screwed up into a grimace.

  I dropped his arm.

  He shook his hand around, opening and closing it, and stared blankly at me. The venom in his words dissipated. “How in the—”

  I nodded to the sparring ring out front. “Come on. Take some aggression out on me. Clear your head.”

  Sam nodded, still confused by how I caught his arm.

  Gus held up a thumb behind him. I shrugged and nodded back like I’ll take care of this. I liked Sam, but Gus was my friend. He’d given me the job. I owed him, and I protected the people I cared about.

  Sam and I walked side-by-side.

  “I haven’t seen the news. They want you to fight Sid?”

  “Yes, and Gus is acting like a little bitch.” He whipped his head back. The fight in him returned a little. “Told me I should fake an injury. Believe that shit? What do you think?”

  “Gus knows what’s best.”

  “What? You don’t think I can win either?”

  I climbed into the ring. “No.”

  Sam stopped outside the ropes for a second. “Well fuckin’ a, Landon. Tell me how you really feel.” He wedged himself through and went to a corner.

  “Nobody can beat him.”

  Gus walked out from the back and leaned up against the wall next to the ring.

  Sam stared at me. “Why don’t you have your head gear on? I’ll hurt you, dude.”

  “No, you won’t.” I taped up both wrists and strapped on a pair of gloves. Peeled my shirt off.

  Sam followed suit. “What is this?” He looked over at Gus. “The fuck is going on?”

  “I think he’s going to show you why you need to listen to me.”

  Sam stared at me like I was some kind of alien. “Oh, so you’re going to fight back today? You want to fight me for real?” He kept looking at me and then back at Gus. “Is this a joke?”

  I walked out and stood in front of him. “Hit me.”

  “You two are insane. I’m out of here.”

  I gave him a friendly shove into the corner. He nearly flew through the ropes. Recoiled off them and landed flat on his back.

  I took a step toward him and looked down. “Hit me.”

  Sam leaped from the mat. His face went tomato-red, but he quickly calmed. He was too skilled of a fighter to let emotions cloud his abilities. “So, you’re going to try and bully the champion? Not smart, Landon.” He stood back and glared at me for a quick second. Shook his head. “You’re a good friend. Great training partner. I like you. So remember one thing in a few seconds.”

  I grinned. “What’s that?”

  He glanced over at the lockers with all the equipment and protective gear. Turned his gaze to Gus, then focused right back on me. His eyes narrowed. “You asked for this shit.”

  He charged out and threw a three-punch combo. I dodged e
very one of them. It looked like he was fighting a phantom in the air.

  Sam whipped around. “What the fuck?”

  “You said I asked for something.” I stood there, about four feet away. “Was that it?”

  His jaw tightened. He threw a roundhouse kick. I caught it in the middle of the air with my palm. He stood there on one leg, hopping around to keep his balance. I held his foot and saw panic written on his face. I tossed him to the ground and he landed on his hip with a thud.

  “Motherfucker!” He jumped up and threw a right cross.

  I stepped out of the way.

  I glanced to Gus and gave him a look that said you sure? He nodded.

  Fuck it. It was either me or Sid, and at least I wouldn’t kill his ass in the ring. He needed to know he was out of his element.

  My brain processed and observed every muscle movement in Sam’s body as if it were in slow motion. His right foot planted.

  I didn’t even give him time to throw the punch.

  Eleven percent.

  That’s what I hit him with. Eleven percent of my power. Left hook. Right jaw. Hard enough to let him know he couldn’t possibly win. Not hard enough for a concussion.

  He flew into the ropes and sprawled out face-down on the floor.

  Gus made his way over and rolled him onto his back. Tapped his cheek a few times. Checked his pulse. “He’s good.” He nodded at me. “Needed the reality check.”

  Sam shook awake about thirty seconds later and clutched at his face. His eyes squinted, and he focused on me. “What the hell did you hit me with? A sack of bricks?”

  I grinned.

  “Who the fuck are you?” He stared at Gus. “What the hell is going on here?”

  I took a step toward him. “Someone who comes from the same place as the guy you want to fight.”

  Gus stared him down. “People you don’t want any part of.” He looked back at me. “You’re lucky this one is on your side.”

  Sam nodded. He was a cocky guy. Fighters had to have that swagger. But he was also a realist and intelligent. Gus helped him to his feet.

  “No wonder I’m always winded when we spar, and you don’t act like you’ve broken a sweat. I don’t feel so damn lazy now.” He sighed and pawed at his jaw a few more times.

  Gus put a hand on his shoulder. “So, what do you think we should do?”

  Sam stared at me, then turned back to Gus and smiled. “I don’t know about you two. But I’m going to go practice limping.”

  “Good call, Son.” Gus patted him on the back.

  I MADE IT OUT OF there early enough to pick Logan up from school. Work had given me an opportunity to stop replaying that kiss over and over a million times through my head. I never wanted to forget that moment, but with that moment came other complicating thoughts. Parents and kids were everywhere when I pulled up to the school. I decided to try and keep my distance, but Logan wouldn’t leave Cora’s side.

  I walked over there and tried to snag him. Maybe get a quick smile out of her. That was it. The shit with Hastings had me not wanting to rock the boat for her at all. I knew I’d scared him, but guys like that didn’t quit. The word “no” wasn’t part of their vocabulary.

  My eyes searched the parking lot for him.

  “Dad!” Logan ran up and hugged me.

  I squeezed him back. Cora stood there. Something was off. She was different.

  I tried to coax a smile out of her, unsuccessfully. Cora stared at me and then turned around.

  The other kids cleared out and Hastings walked through the front door of the school with Principal Williams. Williams saw me standing in front of Cora and turned around in the opposite direction. Not Hastings though.

  He must’ve felt protected with all the people out in the open.

  He walked right toward Cora. A shudder ripped up her spine. My face heated. I sat Logan down and stepped in between them.

  Hastings wore a shit-eating grin. “Oh, hey, big fella.” He looked around and then right past me. Stared at Cora and winked.

  Logan and Cora stood right behind me. I couldn’t react in front of them, in front of everyone. Under my skin, though, my blood boiled. I didn’t say anything out loud to him. Said it all with my eyes. What had he done? He knew the deal. Knew what I told him I’d do if he came near her again.

  “Thanks for the chat earlier, Cora. I meant what I said too.”

  I glared at Hastings and his fingers slightly trembled, but he kept his chest puffed out and walked away.

  Once he was out of sight, I turned to face her. Growled through my flexed jaw. “Chat?”

  Cora’s face flushed with red hues. “Not now.”

  My jaw ground so hard I thought I might crush my teeth. I leaned down into her face. “What’d he do?”

  Out the corner of my eye I noticed Logan shying away from me. He curled up against Cora’s hip. She took a step back with Logan latched to her.

  I had to get out of there before I burned the school to the ground. Couldn’t remember anger taking over my body like that before. “Go home. I’ll be by later.” I grabbed Logan’s bag and stalked to the car. Logan followed a few steps behind. I glanced back at him. He kept looking back at Cora and wouldn’t come any closer. I had to hold it together. Couldn’t let him see me like this. I glared in the direction Hastings had walked in and then schooled my features for my son, but on the inside, nothing but rage consumed me. He should’ve listened in the truck stop parking lot.

  I DROPPED LOGAN OFF WITH Janet at the house. Took off right back out the door. “Gotta run an errand.”

  “Wait, Landon—”

  I hauled ass out of the driveway. Desire was a small town. I knew where Hastings would be. He always went to the one bar in town. The Hammerhouse. It was on the main strip. I’d seen his car there every day after school. I assumed he always dropped his kid off and went straight for the booze.

  I pulled into the parking lot.

  His car was there.

  I walked inside and every head in the place glanced at me and looked away. Hastings took a huge gulp of what looked like a rocks glass full of whiskey. His leg trembled against the bar stool. His eyes grew large and his face was as white as a sheet.

  I strolled over casually and took a seat next to him.

  “What ya havin’?” The bartender had a towel over his shoulder.

  “Milk.”

  Nobody else looked at me. I was used to it. Presence was everything. I didn’t have much to worry about, especially in this town.

  Hastings finally turned his head in my direction. His teeth chattered. “Wh-wh-what—”

  “I’ll ask the questions. Understand?”

  “You can’t be—”

  I gripped his upper thigh where nobody could see. Applied a fair amount of pressure to it. He winced in his seat. To him it probably felt like I was crushing his bones, but I was just getting warmed up. I bore down a little harder, right where the femoral nerve surrounded the artery of the same name. I’d killed a few people with a quick puncture to it. Nothing bleeds out faster than the femoral. I found myself wondering if I could rupture his with just my hand. I’d never done that to anyone before.

  My eyes locked onto his. A tear formed in the corner like he might cry.

  “Don’t make a sound.”

  It was probably the most intense pain he’d ever felt in his life. I had to make a point. The trick was to make the initial pain extreme, but then amp it up, and then amp it up some more, like a ratchet. The body was smart and would adjust and try to go numb. So I had to be slow and methodical. Fool his nerves into letting him feel every bit of it. I dug my fingers in a little harder. Watched him. Then a little harder. It wouldn’t take long.

  “Now, I thought we discussed this in the parking lot the other night.” My voice stayed calm and even. I didn’t want to draw any attention to us and I wanted to scare the living fuck out of him.

  He nodded furiously.

  “What’d you say to her?”

  �
�I-I-I didn’t—”

  I narrowed my eyes.

  Ratchet.

  His face screwed up into a god-awful grimace. Wouldn’t be long before he pissed himself. I hated when they did that.

  “I-I-I’m sorry.”

  “I’ll ask you one more time. I’ll know if you lie to me. Last chance.”

  “It was n-n-nothing.” He barely got his words out. “Flirting. Mouthing off.” He started to slide down the barstool. “Guy shit, you know?” He said it like I could relate to a creepy bastard like him.

  “No.” I shook my head. “I don’t know. Tell me exactly what you said.”

  “I told her she has a nice ass.”

  Ratchet.

  His legs shot out toward the floor, stiff as boards. His back arched.

  I glanced down at my hand. “And?”

  “I-I-I g-g-gave it a squeeze when I walked by.” A tear streamed down his cheek. “I’ll apologize.”

  Ratchet.

  His hand shot over his mouth to keep him from crying out. Face was tomato-red.

  I shook my head and gritted my teeth. “No, you won’t.”

  His face twisted. Multiple tears sluiced down his cheeks from his glassy eyes.

  I smiled at his tears and relished the way they rolled down his face and dripped from his cheeks.

  “You don’t go near her. You don’t touch her. You don’t even say her name. Or I will find you.” I glanced down at his leg. “That’ll be a tickle. Understood?”

  “Y-y-yes.”

  The bartender brought over a glass of milk. I downed it. “It’s on him.” I nodded to Hastings and walked toward the door.

  Hastings must’ve been holding his breath the entire time, because he gasped and pawed at his leg. Tried to stand up and almost fell over when he planted his foot. He hobbled around and held himself up with his forearms on the bar top.

  Two big bikers in leather vests stopped shooting pool and straightened up. I’d seen two Harleys outside and the bartender probably parked in the rear. They stepped in my direction. What the hell was going on? No way was Hastings friends with some bikers. It just didn’t fit. But who knew? It was a small town.

  Hastings hobbled up behind me. I turned back to him. “You don’t want to do this.”