Page 80 of Iron Hearts

“Like sixteen texts and seven missed calls,” she said unhappily. “I’m lucky she didn’t show up here – she has me on a family tracker app – we’re all on it just in case.”

“Good plan,” I praised even as she texted something out.

“I told her I fell asleep watching a movie with you and you didn’t wake me up,” she winced as she looked at me and I chuckled, motioning for her to come back to me, to come back to bed. I lifted the sheet and she eagerly crawled in with me as her phone started to ring in her hand – or buzz, rather. Her actual ringer was off. Silenced in favor of the vibration function.

“Hi, Mom,” she said, closing her eyes and looking pained.

“You had me worried sick!” I heard her mom admonish through the phone.

“I know, I’m sorry! But really, I’m fine – we watchedThe Little Mermaidlive action and I fell asleep.”

She and her mom went back and forth and her mom finally admitted, “I figured you were just having a good time. I saw you were at the same place for a while and when it didn’t change. You’re lucky I had more sense than to come up there!”

Rarity laughed and said, “I’m glad you didn’t. That would bereallyembarrassing, Mom.”

“I know, which is why I didn’t do it – but Rarity, you’re my only daughter and I couldn’t handle it if anything happened to you, too. So text me every once in a while, okay?” I could hear her mom’s voice cracking from here, and I hugged Rarity around the shoulders as she leaned into me and she sniffed, guilty tears starting in her eyes.

“I promise, I was having a good time and I was being selfish, I’m so sorry. I’ll be home soon, okay?”

“Don’t rush – I know you don’t get out much. Grandma and Grandpa have it for now.”

“No, no; I’ll head home soon. It’s okay!”

They argued a bit and finally Rarity said she wouldn’t hurrytoo much, and they ended the call.

She looked at me, and burst into tears, and I held her tight, resting my chin on the top of her head and let her have her cry.

Mom was right, it was okay for us to both feel shitty for a minute; but it wouldn’t be okay if we made the same mistake twice, and I loved my little girl enough to make sure that it didn’t happen again.

“New rule,” I said. “You text your mother every now and again when you’re up this way, okay?”

She sniffed and nodded and said, “Okay, Daddy,” and I chuckled and held her tight.

“That’s my good girl,” I told her and she sighed, a shuddering thing, and got it together.

I was so proud of her.

CHAPTERTHIRTY

Rarity…

“So, I gotta ask,” my mom said, handing the joint back to me as we sat on the back porch several nights after my impromptu overnight and amazing fucking sexcapades with Striker. She held her breath a second longer and let out a plume of green smoke. “How serious are you about this biker?” She raised her eyebrows, and I coughed like a bitch caught off guard. I’d been walking on eggshells, wondering when she was going to give me the third degree and she had gotten me! I’d been lulled into a false sense of security, thinking she wouldn’t make a big thing about it – butnope.Not my mother.God dammit.

I sure ashellwasn’t going to tell her about the Daddy/little girl roleplaying shit we were up to – she wouldn’t get it, and would lose her shit; but I couldn’t explain it if I even wanted to try, like for real – it didn’t feel creepy or incestuousat all. Like we totally got it, we were bothconsenting adults,and it wasn’t about himactuallybeing my daddy. My daddy had died, and there was a hole in my soul that no one or nothing would ever fill… but the way Striker cared for me, the way he cuddled me and was gentle with me, and the way he made me feel safe to go back to that almost childlike state?

It was intoxicating. It felt so fuckinggoodand I wantedmore of it, please and thank you.

Still… no way was I telling mymomany ofthat. It was about to be hard enough explaining the fucking age difference… I didn’t know how bad she was going to freak about the eighteen-year gap in our ages but I damn sure knew Grandma was going to freak the fuck out.

“I really like him,” I said and tried not to let on how serious we were already.

“Yeah?” she asked, “How much?”

Her smile was genuine and I just didn’t have the heart to come clean about even our ages – not yet anyway. She hadn’t gotten a really super up-close look at Striker yet to notice. He’d been wearing his sunglasses when she’d met him at the Iron Horse briefly on the poker run/family day thing we’d thrown together and she hadn’t been home when he’d returned me to the house.

“Like… a lot,” I said with an awkward shrug. “We like a lot of the same things, and he’s super smart. I learn things from him all the time and talking to him is fun.”

“Learn things like what?” she asked, grinning.

---