Page 35 of Daddy's Heart

I give her my best pearl-clutching gasp, grabbing my throat, mock-aghast. “Everything’s about sex with you, isn’t it? You’re just using me for my dick.”

She considers that with a tight smile. “Well, not quite. Your dick, your mouth, fingers and whatever else I can rub myself on in Colt Boone-town.”

“Good girl. I like you slutty for me. But, really, what would it take to make your dream happen?"

She's quiet for a long moment, and I can practically see her thinking. "Confidence, I guess. Experience. Maybe some lessons to get my voice stronger."

"We can make that happen."

"Colt, you don't understand. It's not just about the music. I have Legend to think about, and—"

"And he deserves a mother who chases her dreams," I say firmly. "He deserves to see that it's possible to want something and go after it."

Tears prick her eyes. "You really think I could do it?"

"Baby girl, I think you could do anything you set your mind to. And now I’m here, so, bonus."

She settles against me with a soft sigh, and I think she's asleep when she speaks again.

"I know you love me too. You don't have to say it yet."

Smart girl.

We fall asleep in each other’s arms, and I don’t ever want to be anywhere else.

The smoke is everywhere.

I can't see through it, can barely breathe through the mask that should be protecting me but feels like it's suffocating me instead. The heat is overwhelming, pressing against me from all sides, and somewhere in the distance I can hear screaming.

"Help me!" The voice is young, terrified.

I stumble through the hallway, checking room after room, but they're all empty. Just smoke and fire and the terrible knowledge that I'm running out of time.

"Help me!"

The voice comes from somewhere to my left, and I change direction, following the sound. But every time I think I'm getting closer, it seems to move further away.

"I'm coming!" I shout. "Keep calling!"

But the voice is fading, and the smoke is getting thicker, and I know I'm too late. I'm always too late.

"Colt."

The voice is different now. Softer. Familiar.

"Colt, wake up."

I surface from sleep like a drowning man breaking water, gasping and disoriented. Emery is sitting beside me, her hand on my chest, her face creased with concern.

"You were having a nightmare," she says quietly.

I'm covered in sweat, my heart hammering against my ribs. The taste of smoke lingers in my mouth even though I know it's not real.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not." She shifts closer, her touch gentle but insistent. "You were calling out, trying to help someone."

I go rigid. "You don't want to know about that."

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