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“I’m sure,” I hedged uneasily and glanced toward Izzy, who was watching me with a squint as if trying to overhear what was being said on the other end of the line. Turning away from her, I added, “Topher and I don’t exactly get along.”
“Oh…we could tell.”
I winced. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think I’m as bad as I’m sure he made me sound.”
“I certainly hope not,” she replied, “since you have our daughter.”
Triple shit. “You can come get her,” I blurted, inwardly cursing myself even as I gave in because I didn’t want this to be the wrong move. I wanted what was best for Haven; I just wished I knew what that was. Before I could think up a better plan, I rattled off my address, because honestly, her mom scared the shit out of me. Her kind, steady, blunt honesty was unnerving as fuck.
“Thank you, Wick,” Mrs. Gamble told me graciously. “We’ll be there within the hour.”
And then she hung up.
Closing my eyes, I sent up a prayer, hoping I hadn’t messed up royally.
5
Wick
Fifty-three minutes later, a hard knock sounded on my apartment door, making me shoot up from my seat where I’d been restlessly playing Gardenscapes on my phone.
Moments before, I’d been tempted to delete the entire app, because the spreading honey level was pissing me the fuck off. But this waiting-for-Haven’s-parents-to-show horseshit was making me antsy enough that I kept playing the mind-numbing game and matching up three lines of fruit against the damn honey, anyway, batting it back as if I were fighting an approaching wildfire. And dying every round.
Tossing my phone down as the honey consumed a leaf and a pear, I strode toward the door. Izzy popped up from where she’d been sitting across the room as me, cross-legged and madly typing on her laptop.
I sliced her a warning glance as she tried to follow. “Why don’t you stay back a bit? They’re probably still pissed at me for putting them through the wringer.” I didn’t want anyone’s anger spilling over onto my sister.
Rolling her eyes, Izzy darted around me. “Wow, Wick. You can be so dramatically overprotective sometimes. I’ll be fine.” And before I could stop her, she pulled the door open wide. “Hi! You must be Haven’s dad. I’m Izzy. Izzy Webster, Wick’s sister. Come on in.”
I shook my head and glanced up at the ceiling for patience while Haven’s dad stepped into my apartment. He was tall, just an inch or two shorter than me, with dark hair and eyes that were bluer than his daughter’s. He had a solid presence, nothing about him soft or giving, which told me if he decided to come at me for initially keeping his daughter from him, it would probably hurt. A lot.
After eyeing Izzy as if he didn’t seem to know how to handle her, he merely nodded respectfully before his gaze lifted to me. Eyes narrowing and expression hardening, he demanded, “Where’s my daughter?”
I motioned toward the couch with a tip of my head, and he zipped his attention that way. Heaving out a huge, relieved breath, he tripped toward her and fell to his knees at her side.
“HayHay.” Reverently, he reached out trembling fingers and gently cupped her hair.
She woke to his touch, sucking in a breath and fluttering her eyelashes open. When she focused on him, she started to sit up as she murmured a confused, “Dad?”
“Oh, baby girl,” he choked out, pulling her into his arms and squeezing her tight. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you. Your mom and I were scared shitless.”
“You were?” She patted his shoulder in reassurance. “But why? I’m fine. I…” Then she glanced around and furrowed her brow in a daze. My gut tensed as she took in my front room. Shaking her head slightly, she hollowly admitted, “I have no idea where I am, or how I got here.”
“Ooh! I can answer that,” Izzy spoke up, waving her hand to get Haven’s attention. “We brought you here. And this is Wick’s apartment.”
“Wick?” Haven focused on her with a clueless frown as if trying to figure out who she was before she focused on me. Recognition immediately lit her gaze, and her eyes widened. “Oh.” She shook her head as if to clear it.
I could tell the exact moment she remembered everything she’d been through; her cheeks blanched of all color.
Turning back to her father, she immediately gushed, “God, I’m so sorry. You didn’t have to come all the way up here just for this. That’s like an hour-and-a-half drive, Dad. And with Mom—” Pausing suddenly, she squinted to glance around the room once more. “Where’s Mom?”
“She’s—ah shit.” Haven’s dad lurched to his feet. “She’s probably halfway to the door by now. I told her I’d come back for her as soon as I made sure everything was safe here. But you know her. Why would she listen to me?”
Haven stood from the couch and followed him as he rushed to the exit. “Why wouldn’t it be safe here? What’re you talking about? Dad! What is going on?” she asked right before he pulled the door open and huffed out an aggravated breath.
“I told you I’d come right back for you,” he started irritably, addressing whoever was on the other side. “How the hell did you make it up the steps, anyway?”
Stepping aside, he let the newcomer in, and my eyes grew wide with surprise as a woman in a wheelchair rolled into the apartment.
