Page 18 of The Last One You Loved
My bullshit meter was clanging loudly.
“I can’t do that, and you know it,” I told her, trying to keep my patience intact while every vein in my body screamed to get the hell out.
“My mind’s awful clear now that you’ve made me wipe away all the alcohol haze. Five years ago…I can see his face now as we created that little fleabag.”
I snorted, and her eyes narrowed. “Something funny about me suddenly remembering who my baby daddy is? Mila’srealfather? The one whohasn’tgiven up his parental rights?”
“Nothing funny except the fact that you don’t even know how old the child you gave birth to is.”
“My daughter,” she returned with a smug smile.
Every ounce of protective instinct flared to life in my chest, and I took a step toward her. “Mydaughter. She never was and never will be yours. You were never a mother. You were an incubator. A test tube. A place she grew and then had to be cleansed of. The monster…” I trailed off, limbs shaking, heart hammering, as I fought to take back control.
Sybil’s eyes narrowed. “Fuck you.”
“No, thanks.”
I turned on my heel and headed for the door.
“You’ll regret your words,SheriffHatley. You’ll regret them just like every single person who’s even blinked at me, including that bitch who took my youth and ate it up with her whines and her tears and her goddamn need to breathe.”
I kept going, the door shutting her out, muffling her voice.
My pace picked up until I was almost sprinting out to my work truck. I needed to call my attorney. But first, I needed to hold my daughter.
I almost turned on the siren and lights in my department-issued F-150, but instead, I simply raced back toward Willow Creek at a speed that wasn’t safe for anyone. I drove wildly, passing people on the wrong side of the road as anxiety bloomed, consuming me. I skidded up alongside the curb at the house, not wanting to block Rianne’s vehicle in the drive, and jumped out.
I bounded up the steps and burst into the house like I was after an escaped convict. It felt like I was. Like I could lose my life. Like everything could crumble.
Rianne’s and Mila’s heads jerked up as the door slammed. They were at the counter, making cookies, a tray of little round balls in front of them. Mila was standing on a step stool, and it made her almost as tall as Rianne. God…she’d grown so much.
It hit me all over again how much she looked like her mother and sister. But the smile on her face was because of me. Because I was there, walking through the door when I wasn’t due back for hours.
In two strides, I was in the kitchen, pulling her to me and hugging her so tight she giggled and then groaned, “Daddy! You’re squishing me!”
I met Rianne’s eyes over the top of my daughter’s head. My old teacher’s expression was one of shock and worry.
Mila squirmed against me, but I wasn’t sure I could let go.
“Daddy! I’m getting cookie dough on your uniform!”
I finally eased up, looking down into her face and over at her hands holding a smooshed ball. Half of it was on my shirt and badge, and I didn’t even give a shit. Holding her this way, I knew she was real. She was mine, and I’d be damned if anyone would ever take her away.
“It’ll wash,” I said, voice deep and gravelly with emotions I couldn’t ever explain to a five-year-old.
I put her back down on the stool, and she patted me on the arm. “Are you going to stay and make snickadoodles with us?”
“Snick-er-doodles,” Rianne corrected.
Mila shrugged. “That’s what I said. Snickadoodles.”
It jerked a laugh out of my tightly coiled chest. Leave it to Mila to insist she was saying it right. Sassy and full of spunk, my girl was everything McKenna would have been if she’d been raised in a loving home. It made tears prick at my eyes.
Rianne raised the tray and put it in the oven before turning back to us. “That was the last batch, chick-a-dee. Why don’t you go wash up?”
Mila climbed down off the step stool and attempted a poorly formed skip toward the bathroom. She looked back at me and smiled. “My skip is getting better, isn’t it, Daddy?”
“Sure is, Bug-a-Boo.” I smiled back, but it was a wavery one, and even she seemed to sense it, because she halted before running back to me. I bent down so I was at eye level with her, and she kissed my cheek.
