Vicious Cycle (Vicious Cycle #1)(9)



“But I know you can.”

At the sound of a throat clearing, I glanced up. Rev was framed in the doorway holding Willow’s hand. She tucked herself close to his side, and I could only imagine what he had done to win her over. Great. My kid liked my f*cking brother better than me. “Mrs. Martinez left. I’ve got the prospects bringing in Willow’s things.”

“To the clubhouse?”

Rev nodded. “I figured we could put one of the cots in your room there for the night. Then tomorrow we could get her a proper bed for here at the house.” With a smile, he gazed down at Willow. “You pick out anything you want, sweetheart. We’ll get you whatever colors you love the most. You name it, and it’s yours.”

Willow didn’t say a word. Instead, she gave Rev a shy smile and squeezed his hand. At what must’ve been my confused expression, Rev shook his head. “Mrs. Martinez said Willow hasn’t spoken since her mother—” He stopped when a small tremor went through Willow’s body. With his eyes, Rev answered the question that was running through my mind.

Fuck. Willow had seen Lacey die. Not only did I have a motherless kid, but I had one who was so mentally f*cked-up from what she had seen that she’d stopped talking. Christ, the last thing she needed was me and my world. She needed some parents like off Little House on the Prairie and some serious therapy.

Breaking the silence, Rev swung Willow’s arm, where it was clasped in his hand, back and forth playfully. “But that doesn’t matter to us. Willow, you can talk when you want to. Right, guys?”

Mama Beth rose from the couch. “That’s right.” She held her arms open to Willow, who stared at them with slight trepidation. “I’m your grandmother, honey. I’m going to help your daddy take good care of you.”

Willow stared past Mama Beth to me. I guess she was wondering why I wasn’t welcoming her into my arms. The truth was I didn’t know what the hell to do. Was it creepy if I touched her? Did I even want to touch her? The longer she stared at me, the more I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I needed a release—to bury myself in Cheyenne or to make a run for my bike.

But I didn’t get the chance to * out and leave. Willow released Rev’s hand and took a few tentative steps toward me. In her other hand, she held some kind of angel that looked like it belonged on a Christmas tree. She walked straight past Mama Beth to come to me. Her dark eyes—the same color and shape as mine—never left my face.

“Say something,” Rev hissed.

“Uh, yeah, so I’m David … or Deacon—your father.”

She creeped me out by continuing to stare at me. It was the same obsessed look someone might give a celebrity. I scratched the back of my neck and desperately tried to find the right words to say. “Look, I … I’m sorry about your mother.”

At the mention of Lacey, Willow cocked her head. Without words, I knew what she wanted from me. “She was really beautiful and sweet when she was sober and clean.” Choking on my emotions, I had to clear my throat. “Even though we weren’t together anymore, I did love her. Once.” If I was honest with myself, I would have said that there was a small part of me that still loved her. “I wish I could have known about you when you were a baby. I’m sorry things had to turn out like they did.” She still continued to stare at me. “Look, I know you must’ve seen some bad shit … er, stuff, but I want you to know that you’re safe here. No one is going to hurt you. Okay?”

My statement caused tears to well in her eyes. Immediately, I felt like a giant * for making this kid cry. And then she shocked the hell out of me. She dove at me, clambering onto my lap. My arms went around her tiny body to keep her from falling. Small hands came up to cup my face. And then she leaned forward to kiss my cheek.

Her gesture of acceptance robbed me of all coherent thought and speech. She had every reason to hate me for not being there for her. I could only imagine that her young life so far had pretty much been hell. I’d seen Lacey at her worst when she was drunk and high. I couldn’t imagine she was able to be a very good mother.

But instead of rejecting her absent father, Willow reached out to me. The only thing I could do was wrap my arms tighter around her. She felt so f*cking fragile in my arms. I was afraid to squeeze her too tight for fear of breaking her. When I glanced up at Mama Beth, tears were streaming down her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around her middle as if she was trying to keep herself from falling apart. Seeing Mama Beth so emotional caused tears to sting my eyes. Fuck, I didn’t cry, especially not in front of anyone. I didn’t dare look at Rev to gauge what he was thinking. I imagined he would be thrilled I was actually showing a soft side for once.

And finally, I gave it all up, buried my face into the soft strands of Willow’s hair, and let the tears flow. As I held my daughter in my arms, I realized how life could change on a f*cking dime. Today mine had done a one-eighty.

I was a father. And even if it f*cking killed me, I was going to be the best damn one I could. No one was ever going to hurt Willow on my watch.

“Okay, kids. It’s time to take your seats,” I instructed over the buzzing hum in the room. My heels clicked across the tile as I went to close the door of my classroom. That was the signal that some of my stragglers needed to make sure they got to their desks. I smiled as they bounced in their chairs, excited to see what the day held in store for them.

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