Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
WYATT
It’s official: I’m off for the next three days, and the minute I pull out of the station parking lot, I’m headed to my mom’s house.
She watches Dottie for me when I’m working, and I’m so damn thankful my daughter and my parents have a close relationship.
That Mom stepped up without hesitation and offered to help me when Cheryl ran out on us.
My mood turns to shit every time I think of Cheryl, and sometimes, like now, I can’t help myself. We met our senior year in high school, and I thought she was my forever. I was a fool in love, believing everything she told me. Like how much she loved me too. Yeah right.
We were together for three years, and she got pregnant. She swore she was on birth control, and we used condoms most of the time too, but sometimes we got careless. She didn’t seem thrilled at the prospect of us being parents, but I told myself I needed to man up, and I did.
I insisted we get married and do everything the “right” way, but Cheryl wasn’t interested in all that.
Said she wanted to look good in her wedding gown and not like a “fat pig”—direct quote.
I realize now that should’ve been a warning.
There were lots of warnings when it came to Cheryl, but I either turned a blind eye or was a flat-out dumbass.
When Dottie arrived, I was over the moon in love with my daughter.
She was such an adorable little elf with her pointy ears and sweet little fussy cries.
Cheryl, though? She couldn’t give a shit about our daughter.
She didn’t have any interest in her, didn’t want to feed her or take care of her, none of it.
I did everything—well, as much as I could, considering I was working all the time and trying to provide for my new little family.
The minute I was off my shift, Cheryl was leaving the house to go out with her friends.
Staying out all night and never telling me where she was or who she was with.
She’d come home and act like nothing had happened, and we’d get into these raging fights.
Horrible fights. She’d tell me she hated me, which was fine.
I was starting to hate her too.
Until one night she just . . . never came home.
I tried to track her down, did everything in my power to find her, but eventually I had to give up.
There was no trace of her, and I still have no idea where the mother of my child is.
That was almost six years ago, and Dottie is six now.
I worry sometimes about Cheryl walking back into our lives and trying to take her, but my mom insists that won’t happen.
Not if she has anything to say about it.
I believe her. I never want to deal with my mom when she’s pissed.
By the time I arrive at my parents’ house, I’m tense.
Annoyed with myself for getting worked up over nothing.
Cheryl isn’t worth my concern, and I know this, but sometimes I can’t help but think about her.
Worry about her and wonder where she is.
What if she tried to get custody of Dottie?
What would I do then? Judges tend to favor the mothers, even if they’re worthless—and that’s what Cheryl is.
The worst mother I’ve ever encountered. How could she not love Dottie?
She’s a precious angel. Funny and sweet and goofy.
Stubborn sometimes, but so am I, and I suppose that’s just my karma.
I don’t want to share my little girl with a mother who doesn’t give a shit about her. Harsh but true. Fuck Cheryl.
Just . . . fuck her.
Thank God, Dottie favors my family when it comes to looks. She’s the spitting image of my mom when she was that age. I don’t know how I’d feel if my daughter looked just like her worthless mom.
“Well, you look like you’re in a mood,” Mom says when I stomp into the house. I try to smile at her, but it’s difficult. The house is too quiet, telling me my child isn’t here. That girl knows how to cause a commotion wherever she goes.
“Hello to you too,” I grumble, resting my hands on my hips as I scan the living room. “Where’s Dot?”
“At the lake with Serena and the kids.”
Serena is my older sister. She has three daughters, and they all love Dottie. “When are they coming back?”
“Probably not for a while.” Mom checks her watch. “Didn’t Serena text you? She said she would. Wanted to check in with you and see if Dottie could stay the night.”
Well, shit. I was looking forward to a cozy night at home.
Dot could take a bath, get into her favorite Elsa nightgown, and we could snuggle on the couch and watch a movie while eating popcorn.
Or ice cream. I bought hot fudge sauce last week for a night just like this.
Dottie’s favorite thing to eat lately is hot fudge sundaes, and I can’t blame her.
My daughter has a sweet tooth just like I do.
“She didn’t—” I pull my phone out of my pocket to find my sister did text me, asking if Dot could stay at her house.
What am I supposed to say? No, bring her back now?
Dot will be sad. She loves hanging out with her cousins.
It’s quiet at Daddy’s house, and it’s always chaotic at Aunt Serena’s.
But it’s a fun type of chaos. One that reminds me of my own childhood.
Something I wanted to provide for my kids, but at the rate I’m going, I’m never going to have another.
Gotta have sex with someone in order to procreate, and I haven’t done that with anyone since . . .
I don’t know.
Jesus, my life is dull. The most excitement I’ve had in a while was swinging that barely clothed woman over my shoulder earlier today and carrying her out of a burning house. My hand on her curvy ass was the most action I’ve seen in months.
Fucking embarrassing.
“Yo, just who I was looking for.” My younger brother, Nate, emerges from the kitchen, followed by our dad. “Let’s go out tonight.”
“I just got off work.”
“Oh wah, old man. Come on. When was the last time you went to a bar and got shit-faced?” Nate is grinning.
And I’m frowning. “I can’t remember.”
“You didn’t even try to remember. You used to be fun, you know?”
Nate knows just how to get me. I hate it when he tells me how boring I am. I don’t need the reminder. I already know. “Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t care. Just somewhere where we can drink a lot of beer and get seriously fucked up.” He glances over at our mother, who’s scowling at him. “Sorry, Ma.”
Our father slaps the back of his head as he walks past. “Watch your mouth, Nathaniel. I can still ground you if I wanted to.”
“Fat chance, old man.” Nate laughs. I don’t react at all. I’m still a little worked up over worrying about a woman who doesn’t think about us anymore, and I need to have the same attitude. Maybe my brother is right. A couple of drinks could help me relax for sure. “Wanna go to The Pines bar?”
“Seriously?” I rub a hand along my jaw, thinking of the people who frequent that particular bar.
Mostly old geezers who’ve been going there for years and are certified regulars, with a sprinkle of people we went to high school with.
Always feels like a semireunion any time we walk in the place, but I haven’t been by in a while.
Maybe the vibe has changed. “Aren’t we over The Pines? ”
“We could go to the Snowline,” Nate suggests, his entire face lighting up. “They opened it back up a few months ago, and I guess it’s the hottest spot in town.”
I’d heard it opened back up after being shut down for years, but I haven’t gotten a chance to stop by and check it out. Not like I have time to go out to bars much. Not with either working or taking care of Dottie all the time. “I’ve never been there.”
“We used to go to the Snowline all the time,” Dad says, sending a fond glance in Mom’s direction. “Remember, honey? I got shit-faced there one night, and you had to come pick me up.”
“Only because you were with those no-good friends of yours,” Mom mutters, though she’s smiling. “You were as drunk as a skunk.”
They’re both laughing while Nate rolls his eyes at me, though he’s smiling. “You two want to go with us?”
“Oh, no. We’ll stay right here for the night. I fall asleep in my chair by ten o’clock,” Mom says, shaking her head. “Who is going to be the designated driver for you guys?”
“Not it,” we both shout at the same time, making Mom’s brows lift.
“You both can’t get drunk,” she points out. “No drinking and driving, remember?”
Like I would do something that dumb. Nate wouldn’t either. But she’s just being a mom, I get it.
“We can get an Uber,” I reassure her, earning a nod from my brother. “Don’t worry, Mom. We would never drive drunk.”
That I have to reassure my mom of this when I’m almost thirty, for the love of God, isn’t lost on me.
I love coming from a close family, but sometimes it can make me feel a certain way.
Overprotected and overprotective. Everyone’s got their nose in everyone else’s business.
We’re a close-knit clan, but my siblings also drive me nuts.
Wouldn’t trade them for the world, though.
“Yo.” I glance up to find my brother watching me. “Go home, take a shower, and get on your boot-scootin’ clothes because we’re going out.”
A groan escapes me when he shoves at my shoulder. “Boot-scootin’? What the hell are you talking about?”
“They have line dance nights sometimes.” Nate grins and starts moving around, like he’s supposed to be dancing. More like he’s shuffling his feet with zero rhythm. “Betcha there will be some cute girls there tonight.”
“Isn’t there only one girl in particular you’re looking for?” I raise my brows.
Nate immediately stops moving, his expression going blank. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”
I chance a look at our mother, who’s not paying us any mind. “Don’t much like it when the attention is on you, right?”
“What the fuck ever. Just get out of here and go home. Take that shower. You stink.” He grins. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”