That fucking angel doll.
The first time I’d tried taking it from Willow had been a fucking disaster. Mama Liz and I made a trip to Walmart to get her everything from new clothes to toothpaste. While Mama Liz dealt with panties and pajamas, I’d taken her over to the toy section.
Feeling like Father of the Year, I motioned to the shelves. “You can pick whatever you want.”
Willow’s tiny brows had shot so far up they’d disappeared into her hairline. At her questioning look, I replied, “Doesn’t matter how much it is. You can have it.”
After scanning the shelves for what felt like an eternity, Willow finally decided on a dark-haired princess doll in white.Since she couldn’t hold the new one and the angel doll in her hands at the same time, I took the old one from her. “We can toss this old thing away now.”
Willow’s face crumpled. The keening cry that escaped her lips chilled me to the bone. She then dropped to the ground and rolled into a fetal position while sobbing.
“Fuck,” I muttered as two mothers down the row turned to stare in wide-eyed horror.
Although I wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there, I didn’t pussy out. Instead, I knelt down beside Willow. “Shh,” I murmured. “Please don’t cry. I’m sorry I tried to take your doll. You can keep it,”
When Willow remained crying, I jerked a hand through my hair and in desperation debated calling Mama Liz. Instead, I reached out and pulled her into my arms.
To my surprise, Willow didn’t fight me. Instead, she molded herself against my chest. Although she seemed content, she continued to cry. “Come on, Willow. Give me a break. I made a fucking mistake, okay? I’m going to do that a lot when it comes to you because I don’t have a clue about being a dad. But cut me some slack cause I am trying my best.”
Willow peered up at me. Maybe it was my words or the look of absolute desperation on my face, but something broke through to her. Her sobs quieted while her tears dried up. I don’t know how long we stayed there on the floor with me rubbing wide circles over her back.
Finally, she wiggled out of my arms and got to her feet. After tucking the ratty angel doll under her arm, she grabbed the box with the new doll. “I can carry both,” she pronounced.
I blinked at her in disbelief. Considering I’d been told she didn’t talk, I’d never expected to get a full sentence from her. To say I was floored was an understatement.
Rising off the floor, I nodded. “You sure can.”
And then I’d power-walked her back over to Mama Liz before making a beeline outside to smoke. I’d needed one then just as much as I needed one now.
Despite Willow’s desperate need for therapy, we’d been forced to wait three weeks for an appointment. Then the only reason we’d gotten in that soon is because our club doctor, Robert “Breakneck” Edgeway, had pulled some strings.
But like my doll buying experience, Willow’s first therapy appointment had been a disaster. The moment Willow saw the doctor she froze. With his salt and pepper beard and middle-aged bulge, he didn’t appear menacing to me.
To Willow, he was evil in the flesh.
She’d gripped my arm so hard that she’d left fingertip bruises. Thankfully, the doctor recognized her distress and had been kind. He’d deduced that there was something about him that reminded Willow of someone who had hurt her in the past. I wondered if I should take his photo to show the cops to give them a lead on what Lacey’s killer might look like.
He had graciously worked to get Willow an appointment with a colleague of his. Today when Willow had gotten a look at the motherly-looking doctor with dark hair, she had gone willingly.
Mama Liz’s voice brought me out of my thoughts and my pacing. “David?”
“What?”
“Why don’t you sit down?”
“Can’t,” I grunted.
Mama Liz sighed. “Getting yourself all worked up won’t help Willow in the long run,” she reasoned.
If it had been my brothers or club members, I would’ve told them to fuck off. But I would never, ever be that disrespectful to Mama Liz. Just like she’d been the best fucking mother to me, she’d stepped up to the plate for Willow. She was motherand grandmother all in one. I don’t know what I would’ve done without her the last couple of weeks.
To appease her, I flopped down next to her. If the anxious shaking of my leg annoyed her, she didn’t say.
“Talk to me,” she urged.
I grunted. I’d never been one to share my feelings. I didn’t want anyone too close.
Not even her.
