Page 71 of Hearts of Fairlake

Ian gave me another smile. “That's a good thing, for the record. It means he considers you to be the kind of person he definitely shouldn't yell at or give too much shit to. Thatmight be partly because you're just a nice guy, but your husband has a big part in that.

"He does?" I asked in surprise, wondering what Isaiah would have to do with anything. The times I'd seen the two of them interact, they’d been friendly, and I'd never detected any attitude.

Ian grinned. “He knows anyone who tries to start something with you is picking a fight with Isaiah, and Isaiah is going to come at them three times as hard as they came after you."

"Oh...right, that makes sense," I said and grimaced. "Sorry, he can be...protective."

"There's nothing wrong with being protective or being the one someone is protective of," Ian said. I can be a little protective, too, but you try to be protective over people like my daughter or my husband."

"They don't seem the type who’d let that happen."

"And you'd be correct. It's better just to let them do their thing and trail behind them to ensure they don't maketoomuch mess. I knew what I was getting into when I got with Kyle and what kind of daughter I was raising. At this point, it's better to let them do what they will do...better for my nerves anyway."

"You don't...worry about them?"

"I worry about Ayla all the time. Kyle? Not so much. He's been alive long enough to know how to deal with things, Ayla is about to start her life as an adult, and I'm scared shitless if I'm being honest," he said, running a hand through his dark hair nervously. "But I also know Kyle and I have done our best to prepare her, and we'll always be here if she needs help. Now, whether or not she'll accept the help instead of us needing to hunt her down and make her accept it, that's something else entirely."

It was a little strange to hear someone talk about their kidwith such open affection and concern while still respecting who they were. Isaiah had helped, along with our friends, to drive home that the way I’d grown up wasn't...healthy. No child should grow up being terrified of their father's judgment to the point that they lock parts of themselves up. Parts that, when locked up, could keep them from the happiness I’d almost denied myself with Isaiah because the bastard who was supposed to be my father had instead left his voice in my head, fearing him even after he was gone.

A voice that was silent and dead, just like him, thankfully.

And that I should have never let my brother and mother run my life the way they did. My brother was a terrible person who should have been in jail many times over, and my mother only encouraged it by supporting him and ignoring all his flaws. I had been the one who’d taken on more responsibility for the two of them than should have ever been expected of me. My life had been dictated, controlled, and damaged by the people whoshouldhave been there for me, who would support me and lift me up when I needed it, not drag me down and chain me so I was convenient for them.

There was a bitterness there, but it wasn't aimed at people like Ian, or Ayla for that matter. It was wonderful that he was there for his daughter and doing everything in his power to ensure she succeeded in the world. And it was great that she would grow up knowing she never had to be alone and that the weight of the world did not rest solely on her shoulders.

"You alright?" Ian asked, cocking his head.

"Sorry," I muttered. "I was thinking. About my parents...and my brother."

"I remember hearing you don't really have anything to do with them. Kind of wish I could do that with my mom."

I smiled a little. "I see my mom sometimes, but...not a lot. She doesn't like Isaiah, and he?—"

"I'm guessing the feeling is mutual."

"Really mutual."

"And you don't see your brother?"

"Isaiah said the next time he sees my brother is when he decides to commit a felony."

"I..." Ian blinked at that one. "Wow, alright. I guess Isaiah doesn't mess around."

"What don't I mess around about?" I heard Isaiah ask, and I smiled at his voice. "And why do I have your husband rummaging through our collection of snacks?"

Ian sighed. “That would be because he's had a not-so-great time working out of the first aid tent and probably doesn't want to go back unless he absolutely has to."

"And that involves pillaging snacks?"

"He's hungry, and getting food would mean going out in the crowd when, right now, he wants to yell at people."

"Ah...now, what don't I mess around about?"

"His family, especially his brother," Ian said, nodding toward me.

The shadow that passed over Isaiah's face was dark, but the flash of anger in his eyes was bright and hot. "Right. Tell me he's not here. I don't want to add that dickhead to the day. Or maybe I should wish he was here. Maybe it would keep me from having to do the speech if I got arrested for attempted murder."

"He's not here," I told him quickly. "Don't worry."

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