Chapter 6 #2
“What if I can’t?” she whispers. “What if this is who I am?”
I take her hand, feeling the bird bones between my fingers.
There’s nothing to her. “I don’t believe this is who you are, Naomi.
I look at you and I see the girl who won the Prescott High science fair as a freshman.
Who got herself a full scholarship at a school so fancy I’m surprised they even let me walk onto the campus? That’s who you are.”
She draws into herself and I realize that was the wrong thing to say.
“I can’t keep up without the speed, Dad. Prescott High was nothing. The kids at Queens are all so much smarter than me. I have to study a thousand times harder than I did in high school and I’m still behind. I’m not going to graduate this year as it is.”
“Naomi, you’re not going to graduate at all if you keep doing the drugs. You’re going to die. I don’t know how much plainer to say it.”
“It’s only three more semesters. Mom says I just have to cut back—”
I squeeze my eyes closed. “Please stop talking, honey, before I punch something.”
“Sorry, Daddy,” she whispers.
When I can open my eyes without seeing red, I take her hand again.
“You’re going to use the next twenty-eight days to figure out who you are.
And if at the end, you want to go back to Queens and finish your degree, then I will do everything in my power to support you.
If you decide you want to do something else with your life, I will do everything in my power to help you achieve it.
The only choice you can’t make anymore is the drugs.
That door’s closed to you. Do you understand me? ”
She nods.
“I’m not fucking around with you. I’ll have you committed for the rest of your life rather than sit in another room like this all night, listening to the machine that’s keeping your heart beating. Are we clear?”
“Yes, Dad. I’m so sorry.”
“I am, too.” I squeeze her frail hand gently. “I’m here for you and I will always be here for you. I’ll call you every day and I’ll see you as soon as you’re allowed visitors.”
“You’ll call every day? You won’t forget?”
“Every day. Seventeen hundred. Our time, kid. All those years I was away, I never forgot our time, did I?”
She sniffs and wipes her face with her free hand. “No, you never did.”
“I’ll call and you’ll answer and we’ll talk about what you think you want to be without the drugs. You don’t have to tell me anything else if you don’t want to. But we will talk about that.”
“Okay, Dad. I’ll think about it.”
I lean in and kiss her forehead again. “I love you, kid. I loved you before you were born, and I’ve loved you every minute of your life, and I’ll love you when we’re both just stardust again. Never forget it.”
She sniffs and the tears roll. “I won’t.”
She doesn’t say she loves me back. She hasn’t since she was fifteen.
That was the first overdose, on her mother’s fucking diet pills.
That’s when I found out her blood type and realized she couldn’t be mine biologically.
That was when I realized I didn’t care; she’d always be my daughter.
That was the first time she looked at me with those dark blue eyes from a hospital bed and lied about wanting to live.
I have to believe she’ll find something to live for this time, because I’m not sure either of us will survive another overdose.
When the white coat returns, we hug our goodbyes and I walk them out. There’s a van with “New Horizon Rehabilitation Center” stenciled over a stylized sunrise on the side. The wheelchair goes straight up a ramp into the back and she waves before the door closes.
I wait until the van pulls away before I head back into the health services center to complete Naomi’s discharge paperwork.
A shower and a change of clothes, a short call with Naomi to make sure she’s gotten to the facility safely and a much too-long call with Amy, during which she makes it clear again that Naomi’s addiction is my fault for being an absentee father, and I’m back at Logan’s just before twenty hundred.
Emily pulls me into a hug as soon as I’m through the door, then drags me to the dining table where she sets a steaming plate in front of me.
Logan and another man, who Logan introduces as Cappa and I vaguely remember meeting at Logan and Emily’s collaring, join me at the table.
It’s clear that they’ve already eaten when Emily puts drinks down in front of them but no food, because that little girl would feed the whole world if she got the chance.
Emily fusses over the second man, propping him up in his chair with a pillow from the couch, before going to kneel beside Logan’s chair.
Cappa looks like he was on the losing end of a heavyweight bout: his brow, eyes, cheeks, lip, and jaw puffy and purple with bruising, a long bandage along his cheekbone covering what I have to guess are more than a few stitches.
From the way he’s sitting, he has broken ribs and some stitching down below, too.
He doesn’t offer to shake but smiles hesitantly around his bruises.
I don’t miss the plain, leather collar that sits just inside the neck of his T-shirt, either. It looks exactly like Brenna’s.
“You’re part of Logan’s club?” I ask him gently, because injuries aside, there’s something fragile about this fellow.
“Yes, sir. I’m a house submissive.”
I figured. “You know DirtyGurl?”
Cappa nods. “She’s one of my best friends.”
“I think she’s very special,” I say, which makes Cappa’s eyes widen as much as they can with the swelling. “What do you think she’s looking for in a Dom?”
Cappa glances at Logan, who nods. Cappa chews at his lip before he remembers his injuries and winces.
“I think she’s looking for someone who won’t let her down,” Cappa says slowly.
Whether he knows about me abandoning her the other morning or it’s simply an inconveniently-timed truth, it’s a direct hit.
“Has she been let down before?” I ask.
Cappa nods, before glancing at Logan guiltily. “Sorry, Master Logan.”
“Don’t be sorry. Be honest with Master Mac. If the Blunts Doms have disappointed DirtyGurl, or you, you can tell us.”
The or you sounds pointed, and I wonder what’s brought Cappa here to Logan’s house, where all things wounded seem to congregate.
“I’m not being critical, sir,” Cappa says. “I just think some of the members aren’t as clear as they could be about not getting involved with house submissives outside the club.”
Is that how the Blunts Doms have treated Brenna? And this fragile man-boy? Bastards. No wonder she was so surprised I took her to lunch before our scene. If she’ll let me back in, I foresee a lot of dates in Brenna’s future.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I tell Cappa, around bites of savory Hunter’s Chicken and cous-cous. “I’d very much like to date Brenna as well as have her as my submissive. What do you think her perfect date would be?”
Cappa grins, then touches his fingers to his split lip.
“Take her to a video arcade. She’s a shark on those old eighties’ games.
She didn’t—” He breaks off with a glance at Logan, sighs, and continues, “She didn’t grow up with Xbox or PlayStation.
She’ll tell you she wants to go to dinner or a concert or whatever you’re into, but if you really want to see her happy, take her to an old arcade. ”
I salute him with my beer. “I play a pretty mean game of Frogger myself, so that sounds like a great date to me. Much better than dinner and a movie.”
“She likes movies, too. Chick flicks and anything with Channing Tatum in it. She’ll tell you those movies are sappy and stupid, but take a box of Kleenex, sir, because she’ll be crying at the first kiss.”
I chuckle. That sounds like my salty-sweet sammie. “What’s her favorite movie?”
“Dirty Dancing. Don’t tell her I told you. She’ll kill me. And she’ll deny it to her last breath. But she loves it.”
“Really?” That does surprise me. “Can she dance? I know she has an old hip injury.”
Logan and Cappa trade chuckles.
“Wait until you see her dance, sir.”
“That’s what she does at Blunts,” Logan tells me. “The house submissives work various jobs at the club. Brenna’s job is dancing in the nightclub. She puts on a hell of a show.”
How have I missed my dirty girl dancing? Doesn’t matter, this is my opportunity. “Lo, could I persuade you to take me to your club tonight? Seeing Brenna dance is about the only thing that could make this day better.”
Logan rubs his hand over his mouth. “Cappa, you’re grounded, so don’t even think about it.
Emmy, you’re on babysitting duty. You’re allowed to give Cappa a sponge bath.
Cappa, you’re in our bed tonight. Emmy, mind your bedtime.
If we’re not back by then, I want a picture of you in bed at ten of twelve.
Cappa can read you one bedtime story. One, not three, so don’t you try to wheedle more out of him the way you do with Niall and Max, little girl. ”
The top of Emily’s head is visible over the edge of the table and she bows it. “Yes, Daddy. But it was only two, not three.”
Logan strokes her head. “You are such a mischief. Do not be tempted to bend my rules while I’m out with Master Mac. You will not like the results.”
Emily tips her head back and peers up at Logan. “Owie paddle results?”
“I’m thinking more owie clothespin results. I’m feeling very fond of clothespins at the moment, after sticking them on Cappa’s tongue. I don’t think you want to know where I’d put them on you if you’re a disobedient girl.”
Emily shivers and bows her head again. “Super good girl, me.”
“Mmm. For the sake of your sensitive bits, you’d better be. Club closes at two, so Mac and I won’t be any later than that. You will not wait up under any circumstances, little girl. Am I absolutely clear?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl.” He leans over and kisses the top of her head. Then he shoots a grin at me. “Boys’ night out it is, then.”