Page 31 of Doyle

"I don't want to," I whispered in a small voice. "If you ask me what I truly want..." I trailed off, realizing how spoiled and selfish I was about to sound.

"What do you want, Michael?" Doyle asked.

"You coming here and taking me away, even for a few hours," were the words I wanted to say.

"Michael? What are you doing out here?" interrupted a voice. My dad.

"I've got to go," I told Doyle. "Can I... call you again?"

"Of course. Good night, Michael."

"Good night, Doyle." I ended the call and faced my dad, only to see him frowning at me.

"You were out here talking to Doyle instead of spending time with your family and friends?" my dad asked.

I couldn’t stand the look of disappointment on his face.

Anger uncoiled inside me. This was your idea, I wanted to yell at him for no apparent reason.

I bit my lower lip, restraining myself as I remembered the last argument we had after my graduation.

The last time I ever saw my dad again.

"Michael," my dad said, softening. "I get you miss Doyle. He rescued you, after all, but you shouldn't get attached to him."

"Why not?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"You need to focus on getting back to your old life, on healing. You can't do that if you're constantly clinging to the past,” he said.

Do you even know what you’re talking about? I thought angrily, forcing myself to calm down and put myself in his shoes.

He was just trying to protect me, even if he didn't fully understand.

"Dad," I said, my frustration bubbling up. “Doyle understands what I've been through."

"But he's also a reminder of what happened," my dad insisted. "Every time you see him, you might remember your captivity. And besides…Doyle is dangerous.”

So we finally get to the heart of the matter, I thought bitterly. This was what he truly felt about Doyle.

"Dangerous? Doyle saved my life," I countered, my voice rising despite my efforts to stay calm.

"That's exactly it, Michael," my dad said, his own voice growing more urgent. "Doyle's job is to hunt down black magic users. He's constantly putting himself in danger. And you? You shouldn't be sucked into that world again. You barely made it out alive the first time."

"You don't understand," I shot back. "Doyle is not just some reckless warrior. He has a pack to protect, people who rely on him. He's strong, he's capable, and he's been through hell too. He knows what it's like."

"Knowing what it's like doesn't mean he can keep you safe," my dad said, shaking his head. "I don't want you dragged back into that darkness. You've suffered enough. You need peace, stability, a chance to heal properly."

"I need him,” I admitted, my voice trembling. "Doyle makes me feel safe in a way that nothing else does. It's different with him."

"And what if he gets hurt? What if you get hurt again? Or worse?" my dad asked, his voice cracking. "Do you think I could bear losing you a second time?"

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I hadn't considered his fears, his nightmares of losing me again.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart.

My dad sighed, running a hand through his thinning hair. "I just want what's best for you, Michael,” my dad said.

"I know," I said, my voice softening. "But what's best for me is figuring this out my way. And that includes Doyle."

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