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She looks over to me, a cheeky smile on her face.
“Come here.” I open my arms and she falls into them, giving me a big squeeze with her tiny arms.
“I saw you give Bronson an owie.”
Shame coats my face. But it also doesn’t. If Lilah is going to live here, she’s going to come to realize that I’m not the best man.
We’re not the best people.
Life isn’t just about the flowers she loves to brush against her fingertips.
It’s also about death and blood.
Loss.
I pick her up and stand, my shaking foot straining too much. The tingling becoming unbearable.
“You know, Lilah, sometimes people have to do things that aren’t always good. Do you know that?”
She looks at me curiously. “Yeah, I know. Mommy said that happened in Mexico a lot.”
I nod my head. “Well, I’m not like that. But things aren’t always perfect. Sometimes, we fight bad guys.”
“You’re a superhero?” Her face lights up.
I grin. “Sometimes. But sometimes I’m not. Sometimes people might think I’m the bad guy.”
Ivy opens her mouth to intervene, but I cut her off with a sharp stare.
“I just want you to know that no matter what happens outside of these walls… I’ll do everything in my power to make sure they never touch you and your mominsidethese walls. I’ll make sure you guys are always protected.” I bop her nose with my finger.
She giggles. “I know.”
My eyebrows lift. “Oh, you know, do you?”
She nods. “Yeah, because you’re Dad!” She wiggles out of her arm and over to her swing set.
Taking my fucking heart with her.
She’s barely been able to use her swing set during the winter, but now that we’re into April, she’s back to being glued to that damn swing.
“Thank you.” Ivy says, walking up to me and wrapping her arms around my stomach.
“For what?” I lay an arm over her shoulder, pulling her against my side.
“You’re really good with her. It’s got to be awkward, letting her call you dad. You don’t have to say yes, you know. She’d get over it.”
I look down at her with a frown. “Doyouhave a problem with it?”
She wrinkles up her nose as if she’s contemplating, which only irritates me further. I step away from her.
“You do have a problem with it.” I say with wide eyes, shocked she hasn’t said anything.
She takes a step towards me and grabs onto my shirt in a vice. “Don’t be a fucking dick. I don’t have a problem with her calling you dad.” She huffs, moody and suddenly pissed off.
Good. I am too.
“Well, what’s your problem then?” I growl.
