Hitchhiker’s Guide to Daddy’s Heart (Pride Road Trip 2026 #5)

Prologue

"Idon't understand," I muttered.

Mom held out her hand expectantly, palm up, fingers wiggling impatiently. The gesture meant only one thing.

She wanted my keys. My house keys.

"What is so hard to understand?" she asked, tapping her foot against the scarred linoleum floor of our kitchen.

Or... I suppose it wasn't our kitchen floor anymore.

Because my mom was kicking me out.

"Well," I said carefully, trying to push the words past the lump forming in my throat. "There's the small matter that for the last few months we've been discussing my plans for the future, and you kicking me out was never once mentioned."

Her expression didn't change.

"You encouraged me to take a gap year," I continued. "You said it would be good for me. That after spending my entire life in a classroom I deserved a little break before applying to colleges." My voice cracked slightly despite my best efforts. "You said I shouldn't rush into things."

Mom sighed dramatically, like I was doing nothing but boring her or wasting her precious time.

"And now," I said, gesturing helplessly around the kitchen, "you're telling me it's time to spread my wings and fly?

You're literally kicking me out of the nest without even showing how to work my damned wings, Mom.

" My voice rose with the last word, hysteria creeping in whether I invited it or not.

But honestly, I felt like I earned a bit of hysteria.

I wasn't exaggerating about the gap year. She had pushed for it hard. At first I was surprised. Mom had never been the sort to encourage rest and reflection. I'd been working since before it was strictly legal for me to do so. But eventually I figured out the real reason.

If I worked instead of going straight to college, I could help out more at home. Bring in money. Pay rent. Buy my own groceries.

It hadn't felt great realizing my mother saw me as something resembling a walking piggy bank, but at least it came with one important perk. A cheap place to live while I tried to figure out what I actually wanted to do with the rest of my life.

Because what I wanted...

Well, that wasn't really possible.

And now she'd pulled the rug out from under me less than five minutes after we walked in the door from my graduation ceremony.

"I changed my mind," she said coolly.

Just like that. As if she were discussing changing her mind about what we should have for dinner, instead of dismantling my life.

"I've been clothing you, feeding you, and housing you for eighteen years," she continued. "It's time you went out on your own and gave me back my freedom. Dammit, Alfred, I gave you life instead of doing what my parents wanted when I fell pregnant with you at sixteen."

Ah. There it was. The guilt card. A classic in Mom's arsenal. I stared at her for a long moment. There wasn't really any point in arguing with her. I knew that expression on her face like I knew the back of my hand. Her lips pressed then, and her cold eyes boring into me.

Her decision was made. Mom had never once changed her mind after that look appeared.

Slowly, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my house keys.

She watched me the entire time, so I sucked in a deep breath, walked over to the kitchen table, and tossed the keys down on the scratched wooden surface instead of placing them in her hand like she wanted. One last act of rebellion, I suppose.

The clatter echoed far louder than it should have, and I couldn't stop the flinch at the noise. For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then I turned away before she could see how badly my hands were shaking. Fear pressed against my ribs, and apprehension twisted in my stomach. A cold, creeping sort of terror curled through my chest when I thought about what waited for me outside that front door. But I shoved it all down.

Because what other option did I have?

I walked down the hallway toward my bedroom, every step feeling strangely final, like the house itself already knew I didn't belong there anymore. It was fine.

Really.

I could do this. People moved out all the time.

They started new lives every day. And technically, I wasn't completely alone.

I had a backpack with as many clothes as I could carry, my dog-eared, worn copy of Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, my trusty Terrific Teddy, Mr. Ford. And of course, my towel.

Honestly, when you thought about it, that was a pretty solid expedition team.

Right?