Page 6 of I'll Keep Her Safe

“Well, Poppy is like family to me, and I already feel so guilty leaving her when we’d planned to start our business together. I can’t leave knowing she’ll be homeless. I just can’t.”

I suppress an eye-roll. That’s a little dramatic.

“What about her folks?” I ask.

“They’re in Europe and I have no idea when they’ll be back. Besides, they’re from this tiny hick town in Indiana. I couldn’t make her go back there.”

“You think she’d be happier here?” I chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood so we can move on. “What kid wants to live with an old man?”

“Forty-two isn’t old, Dad.”

I snort. She’s trying to butter me up, and I’m not falling for it.

“And she’s not a kid. She’s twenty-five.”

This does not make me feel better.

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” Bailey continues, her voice solemn. “And normally I wouldn’t, but you said yourself, you’ll hardly be around. It won’t be for long—just until she finds somewhere safe to live.”

My brain snags on the wordsafe. “What do you mean?”

“She has this ex who kind of… hangs around. I don’t love to use this word because I think it gets overused a lot, but he istoxicwith a capital T.”

Despite myself, concern sweeps through me at the idea of Bailey’s friend being in some kind of trouble. “Is he dangerous?”

Bailey is quiet for a beat. “Honestly… I don’t know. He hasn’t been so far, but I don’t trust him. He really did a number on her, and ever since she ended things last year, his behavior has been a little… stalkerish.”

A warning bell sounds in my head. “What do you mean?”

“Like, he shows up at the apartment late at night, and Dean has seen him hanging around outside when Poppy’s not home. Sometimes he shows up at the coffee shop where she works, too, and I think he’s hacked her Instagram account more than once.”

Jesus. And I was worriedIwas a creep.

“Okay.” The word leaves my lips before I’ve given myself time to think it through. “She can stay here.”

“Really?!” Bailey practically squeals into the phone. “Oh my God, Dad, you’re the best!”

I grunt in reply, my thoughts racing at what I’ve just done. I’ve invited Bailey’s friend—someone I find physically attractive, yet who is, for obvious reasons, off-limits—to live with me. Why the hell did I agree?

But I know why. My daughter asked me to, and I want to make her happy. She sounded genuinely concerned about her friend, and anything I can do to make her feel better, I’ll do it. I’ll do that for my daughter.

As for Poppy dealing with this stalker ex… the thought makes my stomach turn. I don’t know Poppy well, but I do know there are a lot of scumbags out there who hurt women every day. It’s not a huge sacrifice for me to give Poppy a safe place to stay while she gets back on her feet. There won’t be any trouble with her ex as long as she’s under my roof.

Besides, Bailey’s right—she’s the one who’s left poor Poppy in the lurch by kicking her out with hardly any notice. This is the least I can do on her behalf. All I have to do is keep my eyes down and my hands to myself. That won’t be a problem—it’s basically been my M.O. for the last decade.

“Thanks, Dad,” Bailey says. “You have no idea how relieved I feel knowing she’ll be okay.”

I soften. “You’re welcome, honey. I’m happy to help.” And I mean it. Ever since Bailey came into my life ten years ago, I’ve done everything within my power to make up for the time we missed out on. Those precious early years when I should have been around. I need her to know I’m dependable, that I have her back. That she can count on me for anything, at any time.

And maybe she’s right. With work consuming most of my waking hours over summer, I probably won’t even notice Poppy. She’ll be doing her thing, I’ll be doing mine, and there won’t be any issues.

I’ll make sure of it.

3

Poppy

Bailey knocks on my bedroom door a few hours later. After spending the afternoon on Craigslist and getting increasingly depressed, I’m glad for the distraction. In fact, we should go out tonight and celebrate.

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