Page 21 of My Boyfriend's Protective Daddy

Part of what made it so easy to leave Georgia without a firm plan was because I had no real idea what I wanted to do with my life. But for the first time, I think I know the direction I want to take. I think I finally know what I want to be when I grow up.

And it makes me ecstatic.

11

CASH

It’s fucking insane. I’ve stared down the barrel of guns being held by bad guys with worse intentions and haven’t been as fucking nervous as I am right now. Standing in front of my son’s apartment, my stomach is turning somersaults so hard, I think I might be sick. Like, I might vomit all over his welcome mat. My heart is pounding in my ears and my blood pressure is so high, it’s giving me a fucking banger of a headache. I think I might stroke out in the hallway before I work up the nut to actually knock on his door.

Closing my eyes, I silently count to ten, thinking of Cassie’s face and hearing her voice echoing through my mind. Ever since she came into my life, she’s been a calming presence. Admittedly, my mind can be a noisy, chaotic place. But in such a short time, she has become my oasis in the tempest. She is my solace. She is the place I go to when the cacophony in my head becomes too much. I honestly don’t know how I ever coped with life, let alone all the bullshit that constantly bounces around my mind, without her.

Blowing out a deep breath, I grit my teeth and try to pull my shit together. I’m here for some finality. I’m here to get some closure and put this to bed one way or the other. Zane and I will either patch our shit up or we’re going to go our separate ways for good. My hope is for the former, of course. But I’ll find a way through it if it ends up being the latter. More than anything, what I’m realizing as I stand here is that I want Cassie to be proud of me.

It’s a strange thought. It’s crazy to think that somebody I’ve known for such a short period of time has had this kind of impact on me. That I want her to be proud of me. That she’s my sense of peace amidst the chaos. Crazy or not, it’s true. She has swept into my life like a fucking storm and has turned everything upside down and inside out. And perhaps the craziest thing about it all is that I like it. That I’m thankful for it. That I don’t know how I’ve lived my forty years on this planet without having been shaken up like this before.

Without giving myself more chance to puss out of it, I raise my hand and knock on the door. A couple of moments later, it opens, and I find myself staring at my son. His hair is a wreck. He’s got several days’ worth of stubble on his face and looks like he hasn’t changed his clothes, let alone bathed, in days.

“You look like shit,” I say.

“Gee. Thanks, Dad,” he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to talk.”

“Got nothing to say to you.”

“Maybe not. But I’ve got some things to say to you.”

“Not interested in hearing shit you’ve got to say, old man.”

“Too bad.”

I push past him and barge into Zane’s apartment, stopping in the living room and frowning as I take it all in, aghast at the condition of his place. Beer bottles and crushed cans, pizza boxes, and old fast food containers cover every surface. A blanket and a pillow covered with a case that’s stained and greasy sit on the sofa, where I assume he’s been sleeping. Zane slams the door and storms in, throwing himself down on the couch and glaring at me disdainfully.

“Maid’s day off?” I ask.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“I want you to open a window and air this place out,” I say. “It fucking stinks in here.”

“Get over it. My place, my rules.”

“So, you enjoy living in filth?”

“Maybe I do,” he snaps. “Now, get to it and get out. I got shit to do.”

“I hope showering and cleaning up is on that to-do list.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

I sigh and run a hand through my hair. This is getting us nowhere. It’s certainly not getting us closer to any kind of resolution. I make a concerted effort to dial down the irritation inside me and try to adopt a more conciliatory tone when I speak.

“Look, Zane, I didn’t come here to fight with you.”

“Then why did you come here?”

“Because we need to find a way past this.”

“Do we?”

---