by Destiny, Sam
He stayed silent until I looked up, finding his dark eyes on me. “Cars and shadows?”
I blinked, surprised at how soft and warm his voice could sound when he wasn’t screaming. However, I knew I needed to tread carefully.
“Aren’t kids always dreaming about shadows? They lurk everywhere, grab you from under the bed—”
“You said cars and shadows, as if you know something I don’t.”
He loomed over me, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his black tee straining against his muscles. I wondered what it was that Dale did, but then shook the thought from my mind. What did it matter?
I stood, no longer wanting him to look down on me—which I knew was stupid because even standing, I barely reached his chin—and placed my hands on my hips.
“Maybe your daughter didn’t tell you because she didn’t want you to worry. Maybe she needed to tell someone and—”
He took a step closer, his nose almost touching mine.
“Stay away from her. You’re the last person she needs, Delaney. You’re not her mother. In fact, you’re nothing to her but the nice woman from next door, so stop putting your nose where it doesn’t belong.” His voice was low, almost threatening.
I gaped at him, opening and closing my mouth before fisting my hands. “You asshole. All I did was console your child, then made suggestions I thought you would appreciate because they might, just might, change how her nights go. As it is, though, she is the only Harris welcome at my house from now on. If I see you on my lawn or inside my home, I’ll call the cops.”
He paled, stepping back as if I’d slapped him. “You wouldn’t.”
No, I wouldn’t, but he didn’t need to know that.
I set my jaw, holding his gaze. “Try me, Harris. I dare you.” My body vibrated with anger. I felt insulted, hurt, attacked. I’d never try to replace anyone’s mother. I just wanted to make a hurt little girl feel better.
God, did he even realize what he was saying? He should be happy a woman was nice to his daughter.
“You are the worst person on the planet, Clare Delaney. I have no idea how you sleep at night.” He spun on his heel and strode to the door, yanking it open.
“Easy. In my bed, my head on my pillow, naked! Dickhead!”
He was long gone by the time I’d finished my sentence, yet I couldn’t help but be glad I’d said it anyway.
DALE
Friday night came faster than I expected, and Sally was eager to play with Kelly and have a sleepover. We’d talked about her nightmares on the drive over, Sally insecure about it. I’d assured her that if Kelly were really her friend, she’d always love her.
As I nursed a beer at the bar, I thought about that, knowing children could be cruel…especially young ones. What if Kelly were mean?
God, I should’ve stayed home with her.
Pulling my phone from my pocket to check for messages, a large palm covered the screen.
“You need to relax, Dale. Just once. Breathe, okay? Enjoy the game.” He pointed at the TV above our heads where a football game was on. “Maybe glance around. There are some women eying you.”
Yeah, I’d seen them. The group sat in the corner, already half-drunk, but none of them were attractive. Okay, maybe they were, but I couldn’t see myself spending long nights and cozy mornings with any of them.
Still, one looked at me as if she’d be willing to meet me in the bathroom and maybe give me that finish I didn’t manage to get earlier this week.
Sally’s nightmares had still come, but after the talk she had with Delaney, it seemed they came later in the night and it was easier to bring her out of them, telling me about dragons the moment she was awake. The stories clearly distracted her enough to fall asleep much sooner and rest until after the sun had risen in the morning.
Fuck, I hated to admit it, but even if my daughter just thought the stories could help her sleep, placebo-like, Clare’s tips seemed to change something. Small as it was, I took that as a win.
Not that I’d ever tell Clare that.
And, if I were being honest, I was a shitty singer, so I couldn’t blame Sally for wanting me to stop.
“Hello, handsome.”
A blonde slid up next to me, her fingertips trailing over my arm. I stared at her blood-red nails for a long moment before meeting her eyes. They were murky brown and framed in black. She wore pink lipstick, and there was pink blush on her cheeks—which really stood out when she was flushed from alcohol.
“Hey,” I replied, deciding I could at least be nice.
“Are you here alone?”
I eyed Cane, who just grinned. “Unless you count the baggage sitting next to me.”
She didn’t pay him any attention. “So no girl?”
A little slow in the head, I thought and gave her a smile. “No girl.”
She threw her hair back over her shoulder, pushing out her tits. I gave them a glance and met her eyes again. She blew a bubble with her gum, then licked her lips. “So, I was wondering, if you aren’t here with anyone, maybe you’d like to buy me a drink.”
I lifted my bottle to my lips in order to swallow down the comment on the tip of my tongue, then nodded to the empty space next to me. “Go ahead and sit, cherry pie.”
When she struggled to get up on the barstool, stumbling several times, I nearly groaned.
Cane leaned over to whisper into my ear. “Loosen up, man. She’s hot. You need to get fucked. In less than thirty minutes, you might be balls deep.”
“Exactly what I wanted. Cheap meat,” I hissed.
“What was that?” Blondie asked, her brows furrowed.
I gave her an innocent smile. “Nothing too cheap, sweets. That’s what I said. We don’t want you to get drunk faster just because the vodka sucks, do we?” I waggled my brows.
She giggled. “You’re funny. I’ll take a Tequila Sunrise,” she ordered. I nodded at the bartender to give me another bottle.
“I’m gonna go to find myself some distraction. See you around, man,” Cane announced. It instantly made me sweat because if he wasn’t by my side, how would I know when Lilian called because there was a problem? Or even just to give a quick update?
A palm on my thigh pulled me from my thoughts and I looked back at Blondie, whose hand started inching closer to my groin. It was when her lips parted on a seductive smile that I knew I didn’t want to be anywhere near her.
“Listen, lady. I’m sorry. Even though you’re not the brightest light out there, you’re cute, but I’m gonna leave now.”
I paid for our drinks, grabbed the bottle of beer and emptied it, then walked out the door. I didn’t care what Cane was doing, but I appreciated the reprieve for the night. I caught a cab and went home, just needing time for myself.
I entered, the fading light through the windows throwing long shadows into my living room, and leaned back against the door while staring up at the ceiling. The house was utterly calm, the silence almost deafening. I hated myself for being glad that my daughter would be away for the night, hated myself because I was getting desperate in the last several weeks, cranky and helpless as I was.
I gave myself another week to maybe find a solution before I’d call my mom and ask her to stay with me for a month.
Sally deserved a better father than me. Or at least someone who would not resent the nightmares and would be able to hold her when I no longer had the patience or energy. Yes, I rocked her until she was peacefully asleep every night, but I was tired. So tired.
Slowly making my way up the stairs, I paused next to her door, wondering when I’d last only opened the door in the morning after kissing her good night the night before. Seeing a warm glow coming from underneath the door, I was sure Sally had accidentally left her nightlight on. Entering, I smiled at the unicorn pictures decorating her room and the stuffed animals sitting along every single wall.
I thought how much I loved my daughter, deciding to hug her extra in the morning, when my eyes fell on the bed. It was a small
one, just big enough for Sally to fit in maybe two or three more years, but I saw two people lying there.
One was my daughter. I recognized the halo of whiskey-colored hair. The other was a woman with black curls. I was about to wake her up and order her out of my house when the woman shifted and the light lit up her features.
Clare.
I blinked, confused. What the hell were those two doing here?
As much as I wanted an explanation, the tired, exhausted part of my brain reminded me that everything was fine and nothing would change until morning. I could demand an explanation then—after having grabbed the sleep I was so desperate for.
I stood there, indecision rooting me to the floor. Clare had her arms wrapped around my daughter, Sally cuddled into her side. Although I had a million questions and was upset about that woman being in my house, I resigned myself to handing over the duty of watching her just for one night. Besides, I’d be down the hall, able to jump awake the minute Sally cried out.
I’d deal with everything after getting up.
I backed up, leaving the light on, and left the room, resting my forehead against the door. I had no idea why I felt especially defeated, or why I was so ready to just accept things as they were, but I was.
It didn’t matter that it was probably going to be worse tomorrow night.
It didn’t matter that this gave Clare power over me I didn’t want her to have.
It didn’t matter that Sally was sleeping peacefully because she clearly felt safe.
What mattered was that, for one night, I hated Clare Delaney a little bit less.
I considered going straight to bed, enjoying the fact that I could get some sleep. Instead, I went downstairs, grabbed another beer from the fridge, locked all the doors, then sat down on the sofa, sipping the beer while listening to the peaceful silence of the house.
CLARE
I opened my eyes, blinking against the light streaming through the drapes. Feeling something against my side, I shifted, seeing Sally curled against me. She turned away, sighing in contentment, then snuggled into her pillow.
The bed had been a tight fit, but after some woman had nearly beaten down every door in the neighborhood, I’d taken Sally off her hands, the girl crying. I’d found Dale’s spare key without it being a real challenge, since he hid it behind the house number like every other person on our street, then we had hot milk with honey and cinnamon, a recipe my mother always used to make for me when I couldn’t sleep.
Granted, it hadn’t helped, but it was a nice routine and had worked in calming Sally down enough to convince her to sleep.
Since I had no idea where her father was, I’d stayed the night.
Wondering if Dale had made it home yet—hoping he hadn’t because, hell, if he found me sneaking out, he was going to kill me—I slipped from the bed, pausing in the doorway to make sure the girl stayed sleeping.
I walked down the hall and carefully opened all the doors, seeing the bathroom and his bedroom empty, the bed still made.
Then again, I assumed he would’ve woken me last night had he come home and seen me.
Why in the world had he left the girl alone with some stranger?
I’d definitely never seen that woman before, and if you asked me, she didn’t have to show her face here again, either. Who in the world would drop a little girl off at a stranger’s house?
I knew Sally would’ve been okay with any of the neighbors, but I lived here. That woman couldn’t have known how nice any of those people were.
Hell, she couldn’t have known I’d be a good one, either.
I made my way downstairs and walked along the hallway, looking at the pictures hanging on the wall. It was covered with photos of Sally, Dale, and a woman I’d never seen before.
It had to be Sally’s mother. She was beautiful, and I leaned in closer to study her. I’d been right about the eyes. She’d passed the color on to her daughter, then there was the way she smiled… Sally did it the same way, one side of her mouth quirking up more than the other. It was a crooked smile, but adorable nonetheless.
I also recognized the dimples in the woman’s cheeks. Sally had those, too. Then again, studying the other pictures, I noticed when Dale smiled, he had the same ones.
Huh. Interesting.
I realized I’d never seen him smile. I tried to recall the occasions he’d been out in the yard with his daughter, but all I could remember were the times he’d gone all asshole—the tight lines on his face, his lips pressed together, his shoulders straight… In fact, I couldn’t remember ever having seen him relaxed.
A sound from behind made me freeze. I waited. When no one spoke, I turned slowly.
Seeing a door, I peeked through it into the living room. Dale sat on the sofa, asleep.
I considered waking him, telling him I was leaving, perhaps even asking him where he’d been in the first place, when I spotted the beer bottle on the coffee table. He was still dressed, and judging by the position he’d fallen asleep in, I knew he was going to hurt like hell the moment he moved.
Standing there, watching him, I wasn’t sure what I felt. As much as I hated him, his exhaustion was obvious, but now, in his sleep, he looked relaxed, the deep lines gone from his expression. The frown had left his forehead, and it almost looked as if he were smiling.
Before I knew what I was doing, I nudged his shoulder to try and shift his body, surprised at how much resistance I met. I wanted him to be more comfortable, but I sure as hell had no intention of waking him up.
I had him almost where I wanted him when his eyes flew open and he bolted up. “What happened? Is it a nightmare? Where is she? What are you doing here?”
Shaking his head and blowing out a breath, he staggered to his feet, catching me off-guard with the sudden movement. My heart ached at how he seemed to move on autopilot.
“I’ll check on her,” he muttered sleepily. I grabbed his arm, waiting until his eyes focused on me.
“Go to bed, Dale. It’s seven in the morning and Sally’s still asleep. Try to catch some hours so you won’t hurt too much,” I suggested, keeping my voice low so as not to startle him.
He blinked repeatedly, trying to stay awake.
“Clare?” he asked, surprised, rubbing his palms over his face.
I was stunned into silence because this was the first time my name hadn’t dropped from his lips with venom. Instead, it had sounded soft, disbelieving.
“Yes. Clare, the horrible neighbor. Go to bed, Dale, and we’ll talk later, okay? It’s Saturday. I’ll be around.”
He nodded and turned away. “Okay,” he muttered, his feet dragging. I turned to leave, but worried he wouldn’t make it to his room, I followed him.
He climbed the stairs like an old man—slowly, shoulders slouched and head hanging. I wondered what it was. Exhaustion? Defeat? Was he asleep again?
“Dale?” I asked cautiously, and he looked over his shoulder. “She’ll probably sleep a little longer, so…” I needed to make it look as if I had a reason to be there, in the hallway, watching him.
He only nodded and continued walking.
I waited until I heard the quiet click of the door, then left the house, walking the few feet to mine. For a moment, I paused on my porch, staring down the empty street.
I’d always been certain I’d either own a house somewhere away from other people or a condo in a bustling town, but I’d ended up here instead. There was a yard, which wasn’t exactly small, but if you looked up, you could still see what your neighbors were having for lunch—or how Dale Harris undressed in his bedroom each and every night.
“Hey, darlin’. You’re up early.”
I nearly jumped when my next-door neighbor, Mrs. Oxley, approached, a wicked glint in her eye.
She’d clearly seen me coming from Dale’s house and waited for the newest gossip.
Oh, how disappointed she’d be at knowing exactly what had gone down in that house.
“I am, actually.”
She nodded, resting her boney hands on the top railing of my porch. “You better not be sneaking out on that boy, darlin’. That ain’t very nice. He’s been through too much to have his heart broken again.”
I was tempted to ask what she was talking about, see what she knew, but I didn’t want to hear about Dale’s past.
The Harris family clearly had gone through hell at some point, but rumors often embellished the original story.
Someone was robbed? Suddenly the rumor mill stated they were also stabbed.
A significant other cheated? Suddenly there’d been two people there with that person.
I knew all about rumors…and I was tired of them.
“I promise I won’t ever sneak out on anyone, Mrs. Oxley. I’ll be a good girl.” I gave her a smile, wondering how best to excuse myself to avoid further conversation.
“Did you ever wonder what would’ve happened had you and your horrible ex stayed together?”
Exactly what I wanted to think about.
Not.
I stayed silent, clearing my throat after a moment, but before I could say something, she went on.
“I’m sure you’d have had children. A boy maybe. Or a girl. Someone to braid your hair for you, and someone whose hair you could braid. A young woman like you should have a baby in her arms, should know the sacrifices and infinite love. You’re missing out.”
She patted my arm and walked away, as if she hadn’t just cut me wide open. I rarely allowed myself to think about children, about being a mother, because without a partner, the chances were slim. I could go to a clinic, but when I finally had a baby, I’d like to know what the dad looked like. Sometimes, though, longing overcame me.
Those were usually the days I baked cookies until every surface in the kitchen was covered, and when I started drinking gin and pink lemonade at noon. I was a freaking grown up and had no one to take care of but myself.