Page 39 of Fool Moon First Aid

“My father called,” I confess, staring at the blob of toothpaste as if it might hold the answers on how to deal with the overbearing man. The silence that follows is thick, fraught with the weight of years of expectations, disappointments, and the shadow of a night that changed everything.

“What could he possibly want?” Mia’s voice sharpens with disdain—a clear reminder of her long-standing mistrust of my father. Her intuition has always been razor-sharp, cutting through façades and revealing truths I’ve been hesitant to face. “You know I’ve always said there’s something off about him.”

For years, I lived in the blissful ignorance of being a daddy’s girl, living under the illusion of his unconditional support. He never missed a school event, read every email, and was a pillar of the community, his efforts and donations a testament to his dedication. It was easy to overlook the warnings and uneasy glances exchanged between my friends—until that one night that shattered everything, ripping away the veil and exposing the harsh truth beneath.

Drawing in a deep, steadying breath, I brace myself for the conversation I know we need to have. “Tell me everything you know about Elijah Castellon.”

Eloise doesn’t miss a beat. “If we were playing fuck, marry, kill, Elijah wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Kill him every time.” Mia’s agreement hums through the phone. “His looks won’t save him either.”

“And boy, is that man pretty,” Eloise adds, her tone light, but I can hear the undercurrent of seriousness. Her words make me pause, toothbrush in hand, as surprise flickers through me.

“A human? Since when do you find human males attractive?” My disbelief is genuine. Eloise has always had a penchant for the more exotic, non-human types—a preference she’s never been shy about.

“Girl…” She leans in, the blue in her eyes sparking with the thrill of the forbidden. “He has this whole bad boy allure—the kind that promises adventure but guarantees heartbreak.”

“I wouldn’t go near him,” Mia states, her voice a blend of practicality and wisdom, even as she shuffles papers in the background, always multitasking. “Bad vibes.”

I spit the toothpaste into the sink and rise it away. “My father has threatened to marry me off…to him.” The mood palpably shifts as I drop the bombshell, my voice barely above a whisper.

Peeling off my shirt, I glance in the mirror and see all the bruises covering my skin from the bookshelf. They’re going to take forever to heal.

Silence fills the bathroom as they soak up my words.

“Ava, you’re a grown-ass woman.” Mia’s voice slices through the mist, simmering with a frustration that’s totally called for. “Tell him no.”

“Twenty-seven and counting,” I reply, slipping off my last shred of dignity—my panties—and turning on the water until its hotter than hell. It’s scalding, just how I need it to be, but then I place the phone on the tub’s edge, debating if I can even manage a soak without making things worse. If I twist and turn just so, maybe I can…

“Don’t even think about it,” Eloise says over the sound of running water. “Kill the water. You’re doing a sponge bath, sweetheart.”

Just like that, I’m shutting off the faucet, resigned to sitting here and dipping a rag in the hot water. “My hair could use a wash though,” I mutter, missing the simplicity of just dunking under a shower without a care.

“Back up to this whole marrying off fiasco,” Mia redirects us, her voice pulling me back into the moment. “Ava, he can’t just auction you off. You’re not livestock. And again, you can say no.”

“Consent is key,” Eloise chimes in from my office chair, her concern wrapping around me like a warm hug. “This doesn’t sit right with me. Also, it isn’t the early eighteen hundreds.”

As I start wiping down with the washcloth, their voices blend into a comforting backdrop. They’re right of course. But I can’t just tell him no. I’d have to meet him first and put my foot down.

“If he is still working with the Puritas Umbra, then you need to stay as far away as possible.” Mia’s tone has that edge, like she’s ready to start a one-woman crusade. And if I’m not careful, she will.

I scrub a little, the warm water cooling quicker than my patience. Catching a glimpse of the bandage on my thigh, a souvenir from a night I’d rather forget, I wince. “Beats me,” I say, because really, I have no clue.

“So you’re caught between a pack bond and the human equivalent of a landfill fire vying for your affection,” Mia summarizes, her dry humor a flicker of light in the gloom.

“Can you bail on your dad?” Eloise asks, looking for an out, but her face falls as she reads my expression through the screen.

“I can, yeah,” I mutter and move out of view so they can’t see the face I’m making.

“But you won’t.” Eloise snorts. “Why, Ava? You are a grown woman, with her own business. You can easily go no contact with your dad and call it a day. This is your choice.”

“I hear you and your logic,” I whisper, knowing what she’s saying. “He’s my dad—he’s all the family I have left.”

To Mama, family meant everything, even if she had to leave hers. Family was part of her culture, and it’s something I always wanted for myself.

The culture of family.

Deep down, I damn well know that is the reason I hold on so tightly to my dad, and it’s probably why he feels entitled to my future.

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