Chapter 6 #2
I stalk toward them, building up my temper with every step.
I shouldn’t be surprised, not really. Since I got home, I’ve realized that Sammy is even more trouble than she was the last time I was in Wood.
At that point she was sixteen and still a schoolgirl and her antics had been harmless and almost charming.
These days, she’s a wild child and the town’s resident hooligan.
She drives too fast and talks too loud, chews gum like her life depends on it, and has a strange need for adrenaline that puts even my own ADHD to shame.
If you catch her unaware, you get a softer, quieter version of her, but she doesn’t let the world see that version often.
She’s a contradiction of ideas, and most of them are bad.
And though Cameron is a straight shooter, from what I can tell, he’s so set on supporting Sammy that he goes along with everything she does. And Gunner’s kid and his friends fucking support her, too.
She’s like the town’s spoiled pet. The one that gets away with everything because it’s so cute you can’t get mad at it.
And in her case, I’m sure a lot of it is also that her mother died when she and Cam were only fourteen. Killed herself in the middle of the day, from what I’ve heard, and left the kids to come home and find her.
The woman was my wife at one time, and I liked her quite a bit–though that never stopped me from coming to town for one or two nights and then leaving again when I got bored.
It’s occurred to me that she might have stuck around longer if I did.
And I’ve worked hard not to think about that, because the idea is so uncomfortable I don’t know if I can carry it. One more way I failed someone I loved.
One more disappointment on the list that makes up my life.
I wonder now if that loss is why Sammy acts the way she does, but I don’t go down that path for long. I don’t know the girl well enough to be able to say, and it doesn’t really matter. The final outcome is always going to be the same.
She’s trouble, always coming up with some wild new plan, and no one has done enough to control her. I’ve seen her trying to destroy herself–either intentionally or not–and it occurred to me within a week of getting back that I needed to have more control over her.
Another thing I’m not willing to look at.
Another motivation I don’t understand.
Hell, I haven’t even fleshed it out yet, and I sure as hell haven’t done anything about it. All I know is that I have an itch under my skin where she’s concerned; a driving need to pin her down and make her behave. I don’t know if I want to tame her or keep her safe, but it doesn’t matter.
I’m her stepfather, and it’s my responsibility to protect her.
The girl is either suicidal or just an adrenaline junk, and if I know anything, it’s that living that life gets you in trouble.
Just look at where I ended up.
If she’s living under my roof, I might at least be able to keep her out of trouble. God knows Cameron hasn’t been doing it.
My thoughts flash again to those dove-gray eyes meeting mine yesterday after the fight, all quicksilver and storm clouds, and something in me reaches out for that memory, recognizing a twin flame.
She might be trouble, but she’s so full of life that her body can hardly contain it.
Passion runs through her like a fucking light, and the laughter when she’s committing some mischief with Cameron. ..
That laughter rings out now, and she bumps his shoulder with hers, giggles ringing through the room like he just said the funniest thing she’s ever heard.
I hear the low murmur of his response, driving her to laugh harder, and seconds later he’s laughing too, his voice a deep bass under her light flute.
And something inside me shrivels and dies a little at the sight of two kids sitting at a bar making each other laugh.
Easy camaraderie and joy, the love of two people who’ve grown up together and can’t imagine life without the other.
Two souls that actually belong together, like they made an agreement before they came to Earth and claimed their bodies.
One soul in two bodies, maybe.
Two people who literally found their other half.
I had that, once. And then I signed a contract with the Marines and left her behind with my kid.
And when I came back, realizing what I’d done, the magic was gone and I only had an empty house and the yawning hole of my own failure.
I get to the bar and lean against it, knowing my presence is imposing enough to interrupt the light streaming through the windows and get their attention.
Shadows fall over Sammy’s face, and then Cameron’s, but he’s too busy looking at her to notice.
Too busy falling into those gray eyes and drinking in the liquid sunshine of her smile.
So it’s Sammy who turns her eyes to me, and her face that creases immediately into a deep frown. “Speak of the Devil,” she mutters.
I let that slide by, because I don’t have the time to play her games. I’m here for one reason, and one reason only.
Well, make that two.
“What the fuck are you two doing in a bar at 11 in the morning?” I snap, remembering my original thought. “Neither of you is old enough to drink. This place shouldn’t even be open this early.”
Cam’s eyes shoot to me, hot with anger, but it’s Sammy who narrows her gaze and tips her chin up. “Making a delivery. Not that it’s any of your business. And Benny’s the one who owns the place, not you. He’s got it open. Guess that means it’s not too early.”
I grind my teeth together, trying to give myself a moment to think–to cool down–but the reply is already there when I open my mouth.
Just like it’s always been.
“I’ll see about that,” I say quietly. “I don’t want you two sitting in the bar when you’re underage. I’m the law around here and I’ve got a reputation to uphold. The last thing I need is my kids breaking the law.”
Sammy snorts at that, like I knew she would, and that gives me the opening I was waiting for.
“But since I can’t trust either of you to behave yourselves, seems like it’s time for me to step in and start doing something I should have done a long time ago.”
Cameron retreats into himself at that, but then stretches up and expands again, his hand coming down on Sammy’s thigh like he’s going to protect her. “And what the fuck is that, Bear?”
I note that he’s still calling me Bear rather than Dad, let myself feel a flare of anger over it, and then give him a cold smile.
“Take on my fatherly duties, of course. It doesn’t make sense for you two to be living with Sue while I’m in town.
Stupid, really. Inefficient. I want you both under my roof so I can keep an eye on you. ”
Sammy jerks. “You already said that. What do you think, we’re going to move immediately?”
I bring my palm down on the bar, cutting her off before she can finish the question. “No questions. I’ve already spoken to Sue about it, and she knows you two are leaving her house. I’ll expect you to be moved in tonight. Once you’re settled, we’ll go over the rules.”
I don’t wait for another response from them, and I don’t offer to help. They know where my house is, and they have a truck that they probably stole from someone else.
They can move their own things.
While I get to my office and try to figure out what the fuck I’ve just done.
Try to figure out how my ego thought this was any sort of good idea. I’ve been in town three months, and that was more than enough time to figure out that these two are two peas from the same pod–and that I’m the third wheel they never wanted.
Forcing them to live in my house isn’t going to make that any better. The truth is, it’s probably going to make all three of us miserable.
Though that’s on brand for nearly every experience I’ve had in Wood since my father decided I wasn’t good enough for him.
I turn on my heel and head for the door, my stomach roiling at the memory. I fucking hate this town. I never wanted to come back here, and now I remember why.
The memories here are too thick, my past laying in every shadow, and none of it is anything but depressing. I ran all the way to the Middle East to get away from it, and now that I’m back...
I remember why I ran in the first place.