by Aly Stiles
“Fine,” I grunt out. “Ten minutes.”
“Twenty.”
“Fifteen, and you show up showered and sober or we’re out.”
I have nothing left by the time I leave my car and grab my cases. Leave it to Allan Hayes to destroy multiple lives with one phone call.
Am I really going to ask Naomi to confront her dad? We’re just starting to make progress. That smile I suspected was in there somewhere has just begun to peek out on more regular intervals, and bam. Another massive crash into an invisible brick wall. But what choice do I have? As usual, I get to pick between bad and really fucking bad.
Despite my delay in the parking lot, I’m still the first to enter our studio. Drained, I start setting up, hoping the music can do what I need it to do today—calm my storm. This fury building inside me will have to escape somehow, and I have too much at stake to release it the way I used to. Parties and women aren’t an option anymore, and honestly, there’s nothing I miss from those days. The wild nights were emptier than the sluggish days. Naomi and Hadley are the first things in my life that have substance.
Hadley… shit!
In all the drama with Naomi and Allan, I hadn’t given any serious thought to how I’m going to handle that minefield when I see her. And I have no time to figure it out, either. I couldn’t be in a worse mood when Viv and the girl I’m falling for come laughing into the studio. Good to know someone’s world didn’t blow up this morning.
“Hey, Julian! You’re early,” Viv calls out.
“Yep.” I force a tight smile as I shove the quarter inch cable into my guitar and kick the tuner on my pedal board.
“Late night?” she asks, breaching my line of sight so I’m forced to acknowledge her.
“Something like that.” My gaze flickers to Hadley who is staring at me expectantly. “Hey,” I say to her before returning to my guitar.
I sense her stiffen and kick myself. Clearly, that wasn’t the right response.
“Hey,” she echoes sarcastically. She waits another second, and I stare back in confusion. What exactly does she want? A public announcement that we slept together? A parade?
I can’t think straight right now. Fucking Allan and his bullshit drama ruining my brain, my life, my one chance with an amazing girl. As much as I care about Hadley, all I can process is that gnawing pain in my gut as the countdown begins to tomorrow night. My messed up love life will just have to deal for the time-being.
It doesn’t matter. She’s already in her chair, glowering at her laptop like Naomi scowls at me every chance she gets. At least I’m consistent when it comes to the ladies.
“You sure you’re okay?” Viv asks, her face melting with concern.
Yeah, I’m going to have to do a better job at wrapping this shit up for now. “Fine. Yeah. Like I said, late night.” I don’t look at Hadley this time. I can’t as guilt overwhelms me. Maybe now she’ll understand the message I’ve been trying to send from the beginning: She really shouldn’t try to fix my mess.
My phone buzzes, and I pull it from my pocket on instinct. My stomach constricts at Allan’s name and the notification of a photo. Nauseous, I open the text with a racing pulse. Staring back at me is half of an official birth certificate. Naomi’s name is covered up so I wouldn’t even be able to use this photo in place of it.
Fuck you, Allan.
The band doesn’t seem happy when I cut out early, especially given my bad attitude and half-assed effort all day, but I need to get home before Naomi. I spent the entire rehearsal working through this dilemma with Allan and finally decided she’s earned the right to make her own decision.
I’m not going to tell her the part about him extorting me, just that he wants to see her. I’ll let her decide if she’s game. If she’s not, I’ll figure out some other way to get the information I need. I can’t be the first guardian who doesn’t have the right papers. It will be my first question for the lawyer I’m going to hire to help us navigate this mess.
Naomi pushes through the door to our apartment and freezes when she sees me sitting at the table.
“Uncle J? Why are you home?”
“No reason. Just finished up early. How was school?”
“Fine?” she draws out suspiciously as she slowly lowers her bag to the floor.
“Great. You get that math stuff sorted out? We’re still on for a fun family math night?”
Her eyes narrow, and yeah. I’m acting weird. I need to take it down about seven notches.
Or not when she pulls out a chair and drops across from me. “What is it? What’s going on?”
I clear my throat, staring at my hands as the nightmare conversation with Allan replays through my head. “So, I heard from your dad today,” I say in an even tone, deciding direct is the best way to go. She’s earned honesty.
She pales, her head moving in small arcs as she slumps in her chair. “He… he wants me back?” she whispers.
Shit. Stupid! You’re doing this all wrong. How do I tell her no? How do you tell a kid a second time that no, your parent still doesn’t want you?
My chest tightens. I feel like my lungs are imploding on themselves. I swallow and reach for her hand, but it’s awkward when we touch, and I let go. She tucks her hands in her lap, and I sigh.
“He didn’t say that. Just that he wants to see you for a few minutes. I told him it would be up to you.” It’s a lie. That’s not how it went down, but he wouldn’t have accepted leaving the decision in her hands anyway.
She blinks, still frozen in stunned silence. Her lip quivers, her small body trembling as she absorbs a bombshell I wish to heaven no kid ever had to endure. My heart breaks as I watch helpless from the other end of the table. I don’t know what to say, what I can possibly do to take the brunt of the blow from her little shoulders. But I want to. I’d battle Lucifer himself right now to drag her from his grip.
I’m just about to try again when she jumps up and rushes toward me. I catch her as she crashes into my chest and wraps her arms around my neck.
“Thank god. I never want to go back. Please don’t make me go back,” she whispers, barely audible through her tears. Her arms tighten around me, hot liquid soaking through my shirt and into my heart.
Tears burn my own eyes as I squeeze back. Yes, that about sums it up.
Thank you, God.
CHAPTER 12
HADLEY
I pound on Julian’s door, amazed at what a difference a day makes. Yesterday, I stood in this same spot wanting to jump him. Today… well, I still want to jump him but in an entirely different way. This jumping would involve a blunt object and plenty of swear words I don’t even use.
I slept with him. We had legit, mind-blowing sex and hours later he acted like not only did nothing happen, but we’re back to that same neighbor-hate dynamic we started with. His attitude only got worse as the day dragged on. I wasn’t the only one glad to see him go when he ran out of the studio like every second in our presence was a gross inconvenience.
In a perfect world, I’d never have to speak to him outside of our professional relationship again, but unfortunately, he also has an amazing niece that I’m starting to like quite a bit. And when said niece sends you a frantic SOS about girl problems, you drop everything and hike up those stairs to the lion’s den.
Julian pulls open the door, looking as irritating and hot as ever in that stupid undershirt and ripped jeans. They’re not even the trendy version that are just a little too perfectly shredded. These rips look authentic, like he’s been wearing this one pair for years and doesn’t give a crap that they make him look edible.
Focus, Hadley. He’s an asshole, remember? A hot asshole, but still an asshole.
And right now his mouth is hanging open in flustered silence as he stares at me. “Hadley…” he says as if clarifying my presence for himself.
“I’m not here for you,” I clip out, pushing past him with my tote bag. “I’m here for Naomi. She in her room?”
He straightens in shock, his stup
id pretty eyes blinking in confusion. “Naomi? Yeah, but I just talked to her an hour ago.”
“Well, a lot can change in an hour,” I say. And twelve hours, apparently.
“What? Is she okay?”
“No, she’s not okay,” I snap.
“Alright, geez,” he says, lifting his hands and stepping back. “She didn’t say anything to me.”
“Of course she didn’t. It’s women’s problems.” I hold up the bag with an impatient look.
He pales, his shoulders shrinking. “Women’s problems?” He says the words like it’s some mystical prophecy. “Oh shit. Should I… um… call someone?”
I turn back and stare at him. Is he for real? His big brown eyes are absolutely serious, and I have to suppress a snort. “Who exactly would you call?” Now, I have to know.
“Um…” He shakes his head, so far out of his depth I almost have mercy on him. Almost. “The um…”
“Actually, that’s a great idea. You call the Women’s Reproductive Emergency Hotline, while I check on her. Sound good?”
He cringes but pulls out his phone. Oh my gosh, he’s actually looking it up. This time I can’t hold in my laugh as I grab his hand to stop him.
“It’s fine, Julian. Have a drink and relax. I got this.”
With that I march down the hall to Naomi’s room.
Inside, Naomi is huddled on the floor, leaning against her bed with her arms wrapped around her knees. My heart hurts as she looks up at me, tears in her eyes.
“Oh, honey,” I say, rushing forward and kneeling before her. “It’s okay. It happens to everyone. Here, I brought everything we’ll need.”
She sniffs and nods but doesn’t release her knees.
“I’m using toilet paper for now,” she whispers. “And over there is…” She stops, clearly embarrassed by the pile of clothing on the floor.
“Well, guess what?” I say, pulling out a plastic bag from my tote. “They make these special machines now that take care of all that.” I scoop up the pile of clothes and stuff it in the bag. After knotting it, I remove the rest of the contents of the tote and replace them with the dirty clothes.
“What are you doing?” she asks with concern.
“I’ll wash them with my stuff so your uncle doesn’t see it.”
Relief floods her face, and she finally straightens her legs to reach for the packages I brought. “These are the pads?” she asks.
I nod. “I brought a few different sizes so you can see which ones you like. We’ll tackle tampons another time.” I open a box and pluck one from the neat row of mini-packages. “Here, try this one first.”
She takes it and studies it for a second, turning it over in her hands.
“You just unwrap it… yep, like that. And see that strip of paper on the bottom? Pull that off and that sticky part attaches to the inside of your underwear. I’ll show you this cool app where you can keep track so you’re more prepared next time.”
“Okay,” she says quietly. Her gaze shoots to her dresser, and I pretend to busy myself with the boxes again.
“Why don’t you go to the bathroom and try it while I talk to your uncle for a minute?”
Her eyes flare with alarm. “You’re not going to tell him, are you?”
I squeeze her arm. “No details, I promise, but he needs to know the general stuff. He’s going to have to buy you what you need long-term.”
She shakes her head. “Can’t you just get it for me?”
I smile and rub her arm before letting go. “He’s going to understand. I promise. Don’t worry about that part. I’ll take care of it. You just go shower and try that new pad, okay?”
She bites her lip, still looking uncertain as she moves to her dresser. After pulling out a change of clothes, she starts toward the door and turns back suddenly. “It’s just, maybe we should tell him tomorrow. He’s had a really bad day.”
Yeah, I know. We all did thanks to him.
Her face falls, her eyes glossy again as she grips the door handle. “My dad came back this morning.”
I’m still reeling when Naomi heads to the bathroom with a change of clothes and fresh sanitary pad. Guilt showers over me, disappointment in myself for missing such an important mitigating factor of his behavior. Julian only cares about two things: The band and Naomi. For him to mess up his music so badly, I should have known it had something to do with Naomi.
The shower springs to life in the bathroom across the hall, and I push myself up from the floor. The kitchen and main living area look dark when I peek down the hall, but there’s light coming from under Julian’s closed bedroom door in the other direction.
I trudge toward it slowly, still not sure what to say to him, but knowing I owe him the courtesy of trying. I’m not sure what Naomi meant by her “dad came back” but I know there’s nothing good about that sentence for Julian.
Knocking quietly on his door, I inhale deeply and prepare for the worst.
“Come in,” he says. “Everything okay? Hadley said—” He stops, looking flustered again when he sees me duck into his room. “Oh, sorry. Thought you were Naomi. Is she okay?”
I swallow, suddenly reading his worn spirit in a whole new light. “She’s fine. Nothing a shower and sanitary pad can’t fix. I’ll check in with her before I leave to make sure she’s good to go for overnight bleeding and… never mind. I’ll check in with her.”
He looks relieved, if a little pallid. “Thanks. I… thanks. Um, what do I owe you for the stuff you brought? Also, what exactly is it that I need to buy?”
My heart melts a little at his earnestness. He’s trying so hard. How did I peg him so wrong… again? “I’ll get you a list of what you’ll have to stock for her moving forward.”
“That would be great, thanks. Hey, I’m sorry about today.” He swallows, adjusting on his mattress. It’s then that I notice the piles of papers circled around him. What is he doing? “I acted like a dick. I just… had a rough morning and then I saw you and I don’t know. I panicked.”
“You panicked?”
“Yeah. I mean, I’m not used to sleeping with girls I want to sleep with again.”
I stare at him, struggling to pick through that strange and wonderful statement. It’s kind of sweet in a weird, borderline-insulting way.
His hand shoots into his hair, and he grunts as he tugs it. “Sorry. That came out wrong. What I mean is, I really like you, Hadley. And I know I’m screwing this up, but I don’t know how it’s supposed to go and right now the timing just sucks because…” He fans his hand over the piles of papers.
He looks surprised when I ignore his bumbling apology and lower myself to the edge of the mattress instead. “What is all this stuff?” I ask, picking up the closest pile.
“Mostly legal stuff. I printed out everything I could find on getting legal guardianship of a minor in the state of California. I even spoke to three lawyers tonight. I just don’t know…” He drops the pile he’s holding in disgust and leans back against the headboard. “How the hell I’m going to do all of this, let alone pay for it.”
He draws in a ragged breath, crushed by the weight of some invisible monster.
My shock must be all over my face. I feel the extra air on my wide eyes. “You want to apply for permanent guardianship of Naomi? Does she know about this?”
“No!” he rushes out, straightening. “And she can’t. Not until I figure it all out and make sure I can make it happen. Plus, I want to give her a say. If it’s not what she wants, then we’ll have to come up with a Plan B.”
He picks up another pile, scanning the first page before exchanging it for another one. “There are so many rules. And there’s this hearing, but I have to get Allan to sign off or we’ll have to fight it out in court. And… fuck!” He drops the pile again, cringing when he remembers me. “Sorry. Fudge.”
I smile, but there’s no substance to it. How can there be when he’s collapsing right in front of me? Gosh, he looks exhausted. Bags I’ve never seen before hang
under his eyes. The usual fire that so captivates me has dimmed into a dull flame. He looks lost. Broken.
He’s terrified he’s going to lose her.
My chest constricts as I watch him hurt and love and fight in a way I may never understand. I push a pile of papers to the side and inch up the mattress until I’m seated beside him, my back also to the headboard. He glances over at me in surprise when I pull the pages from his hands as well.
“What are you doing?” he asks. Even his voice sounds tired.
I grip his hand in mine and bring it to my lips, my eyes still locked on his.
“You’re not still mad?” he breathes out in relief.
Emotion burns deep inside me. If only he knew. “A lot can change in an hour.”
CHAPTER 13
JULIAN
Naomi looks as nervous as I feel as we wait in my car in the parking lot of Cathy’s Café. My doors are locked, engine idling and ready to peel out if necessary. Allan needs to show first and take a table in the ice cream shop where I can scope him out before he has any chance of seeing his daughter. So far, there’s been no sign of him.
“It’s only five after,” Naomi says, but I hear it in her voice. The doubt. The fear that five after will become ten after, then twenty after, and soon we’ll have to accept the hard truth.
I pull out my phone and punch in another text to that bastard. That makes three in the last seven minutes.
Where the fuck are you? I write. It joins the tapestry of,
You here?
Give me your ETA.
Yeah, nothing.
Naomi’s fingers ball into a fist on her lap, and I reach over to lay mine on top. This time she loosens her grip to take my hand. I squeeze gently as we watch through the windshield.
Customer after customer goes through the door. Families, couples young and old, clusters of friends, but no deadbeat junkie interested in his daughter. No liar and manipulator who should be in prison for what he did and possibly could be if I didn’t fear that battle would do even more damage to Naomi and get her taken away from me.