My phone buzzes in my pocket. I look down and see Cash’s face. I send him to voicemail. “I’m not drunk enough or high enough to entertain that thought.”
He shakes the bottle of pills and I hold out my hand. He drops two in my palm and I swallow them dry. I know it’s a mistake as soon as they’re gone, but it’s too late now. Travis reaches for me. I let him pull me up.
“You still a tequila girl?” Travis asks, dropping his arm around my neck. I nod. “Well, let’s see if tequila really does make her clothes fall off.”
Cash
I can’t do this anymore.
I TURN UP THE SPEED on the treadmill, the Post-it stuck to the display. My feet slam against the mat, blind rage fueling me. I’ve been too mad to call her again, not that I think she’d answer anyway. I’m not sure what happened between last night and this morning, but the fact that she didn’t even give me the courtesy of breaking up face-to-face makes my blood boil.
I can excuse a certain level of immaturity because of our age difference, but not communicating is a deal breaker for me. I missed out on being a part of my daughter’s childhood because her bitch mother kept her pregnancy a secret. I will not begin or end another relationship like that. I get being scared. I am a collection of imperfect parts, we all are. I understand that our situation isn’t great and that sneaking around isn’t ideal. Keeping secrets takes a toll, but behaving like a two-year-old is unacceptable.
My lungs scream. Sweat drips down my brow, blurring my vision, but I keep running. I keep pushing myself, pushing my body, hoping to tire my limbs enough to calm my brain down. The aggressive metal playing in my ears dies as my phone rings. I look down at the screen to see Arden’s face.
My whole body tenses. Arden’s never called me before, so for her to be doing so now sets off warning bells in my brain. “Hey, is everything okay?” I ask, sucking in a lungful of air. I smash the stop button on the treadmill.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice sounds panicked.
I jog down the hall to my bedroom, tossing the towel in the dirty hamper and grabbing my wallet from the dresser. “Arden, tell me what’s wrong.”
“I don’t… I’m not sure why I called. I just…I didn’t know what to do. I can’t talk to my parents, and I don’t want to worry Randy,” she rambles. “You’re all the way in Brighton. I just…needed an adult opinion, I guess? I’m sorry.”
“Are you in trouble?” I pant. My mind works a million miles a minute. After Cherry’s vague call earlier, I’d wanted to hop in my car and go get her. I’d even went as far as putting her father’s address into the GPS app on my phone. Then I remembered Arden was with her so I opted for the treadmill instead. Now both my girls have called me, and I’ll be damned if I sit here and wait.
“No, not me, Cherry.” Panic is evident in her tone. I can hear voices in the background. Some douche is hitting on her.
I grab my keys and push out the door. “Where are you?”
“I.” She pauses. “Her dad is sick. She didn’t know, and when he told her, she freaked out and took off. I followed her, and now we’re at this party and I got high, and Cherry got really really high, and she doesn’t want to leave. Cherry has this self-destructive streak and I know her. She’ll do something stupid, and when she’s sober, she’ll hate herself for it.”
Suddenly, it all makes sense, the phone calls, the rambling. My girls are playing very adult games, games that could get them hurt. “Text me the address. I’m on my way.”
“You don’t have to do that. I don’t know why I called,” she mutters. Her voice gets far away, like she put the phone down, but I can make out what she’s saying. “Touch me again and I’ll break your fucking finger.”
“Arden,” I bark, already out the door. I’d do anything for her, go anywhere. “I want you to call me whenever you’re in trouble. I will always be there to help you through. Now, text me the address. I’m on my way.”
We end the call and I send Cherry a text. Call me, right fucking now.
A second later my phone rings. “You’re so bossy,” she slurs and I step on the gas. I can hear the noise in the background. Girls laughing. The sound of water splashing. The whole goddamn world is turned on its axis because of her mood swings and she’s fucking partying.
“And you’re a bloody brat.” I’m so angry I can barely see straight, but I know if she’s on the phone with me, she won’t do anything stupid. I just need to bide my time until I can get there. The light turns red and I slam a palm down on the steering wheel. “Just because you don’t give a fuck about anyone or anything, doesn’t mean that people don’t care about you.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Tough shit, Cherry Girl. Life isn’t fair. This morning wasn’t fair. What you’re doing to your dad isn’t fair. Not everyone will disappoint you. You just have to give them the chance.”
“How do you know about my dad?”
“The important question is why didn’t you tell me?”
She’s quiet for a moment. Some asshole yells her name. “I gotta go.” The line goes dead and the light turns green.
“I’m coming for you, Cherry Girl,” I mutter to myself as I step on the gas.
Thankfully, Franklin Street is only a few miles long, so it doesn’t take me long to find the house. A row of cars sit in front of a brown townhouse. I park as close as I can and jump out. All I can think about is finding Cherry.
A redhead girl eyes me as I approach. “You’re not the police, are you?”
“Do I look like a cop?” I say, gesturing to my gym clothes.
“Sounds like something a cop would say.”
I grit my teeth. “I don’t care about you lot underage drinking and getting high. My daughter and her friend are here. Tell me where they are and I’ll leave you to it, otherwise I’ll call the cops and ruin the fun.”
“Ugh.” She sucks on her tongue, petulantly. “Who?”
“Arden, a blonde with blue eyes a lot like mine. She’s about this tall.” I lift my hand to the approximate height. “And Cherry—”
“Valentine?” Recognition sparks in the girl’s glossy eyes. I nod. “I think your daughter is out back, but Cherry just went upstairs with Trav. I don’t know which room—” she calls but I’m already pushing my way inside the house.
An internal debate rages in my brain. Do I take the stairs two at a time and get my girl, or do I find my daughter? I look to the back door, visible from the landing, then up the stairs. Arden or Cherry. It’s the first time I’ve had to make this choice, and my gut tells me it won’t be the last. Before I have a chance to make up my mind, Arden stumbles in from the back. Her bloodshot eyes widen as she takes me in.
“You came?” Her words are slurred, but otherwise, she looks relatively unscathed.
“I told you I would.” I hand her the key to my car. “I’m going to go find your friend. I want you to wait in the car. Do not leave the car,” I command firmly. She takes the keys, and I exhale in relief once she’s out of sight.
The house is small, only four doors on the second floor. Two are open and empty, so I pick the door closest to me. It’s locked.
“Occupied,” some douche calls from the other side.
“Open the fucking door or I’ll break it the fuck down,” I seethe, banging on the wood so hard it rattles.
“Not my house,” the prick shoots back.
I don’t have time for this shit. I rear back and kick the door open. Some wanker and a blonde jump up from the bed. I glance around the room just to make sure Cherry isn’t in it, before I try the other door. This one, thankfully, is unlocked. Cherry is sprawled across the bed. Some asshole is on top of her with his mouth suctioned to her neck. I stomp across the room and pull him with so much force he stumbles, crashing into the wall behind him. “What the fuck?”
I look down at Cherry. She’s high as a fucking kite. Her eyes are slits, her brow is slick with sweat, and she’s mumbling incoherently. “What did you give her?”
&nb
sp; “Fuck you, asshole. This is my house and who are you?” He narrows his red-rimmed eyes. He’s no doubt sizing me up, just like I am him. He’s shorter than me, closer to Cherry’s height, and looks like the jailhouse version of a Jonas Brother.
I walk up to him slowly, menacingly, towering over him like a giant. I push the toe of my trainer into his crotch and apply more than enough pressure to get my point across. “I’ll be your worst fucking nightmare if something happens to this girl.”
He holds up his hands. “She wanted to party. I had some Xanies. It’s no big deal. She’ll sleep it off,” he chokes out.
“For your sake, you better fucking well hope so.” I let up on his balls and he slumps back into the wall.
I ignore the idiot and return my attention to Cherry. “Cherry Girl,” I whisper kneeling on the bed. I fix her clothes and gently shake her awake.
She blinks slowly, then a smile tips her lips briefly before dropping. “Hey.”
I return her smile. My fingertips brush stray hairs from her forehead. “You’re in so much trouble.” I exhale, thankful that she’s responsive.
“Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep.”
I lift her to her feet. Her legs wobble a bit so I toss her arm around my neck and steady her. “How much of that bullshit did you take?”
“I don’t know,” she slurs. “Snorted some pills. Took some shots. Smoked some weed.”
“Cherry,” I reprimand. We make our way out of the bedroom and I lift her, bridal style, carrying her down the steps.
“It almost worked.” She sighs, snuggling into my hold.
“What almost worked?”
“I almost forgot.”
I frown and take her outside to my car. Relief fills Arden’s face as I strap her friend in the back seat. Cherry falls asleep on the drive to her dad’s house, and Arden stares out the window.
My mind drifts back to the last time I found a girl passed out and high as a kite. That relationship ended in a secret baby and a payoff. This one is just as doomed, and yet my attraction to Cherry is more than physical, which probably means I’m twice as fucked.
I pull in front of a house and kill the engine.
Arden moves first, twisting her neck towards me. “Thank you, Cash.” Her cheeks flush with embarrassment. My guess is she’s still pretty blitzed, but the quiet ride home sobered her up enough.
“I’m new to this parental thing.” I sigh. “And I know I don’t really have the authority to punish you. You’re an adult, and I won’t sit here and lecture you about the choices you’ve made, but taking drugs from boys you don’t know is not smart.”
“I know,” she says slumping into the chair. “I didn’t realize it was going to get that far. I thought she’d blow off some steam and we’d be in and out in an hour.”
The interior lights dim. The glow from the sunset illuminates the otherwise dark car. “I’m glad you called me.”
“I’m glad I did too.” She grins. “Stoned Arden has some good decision-making abilities.”
“Too soon.” I match her smirk, before opening the driver’s side door. “Come on, I’ll help you get her inside.” Arden hops out, and I lift Cherry from the back seat. She wraps her arms around my neck on instinct and murmurs, “Don’t hate me,” over my shoulder.
“I don’t hate you.” Arden brushes a strand of hair from her face. “I just wish you’d find a better way to cope with shit.”
A man stands at the door. He looks older than me, but that could be because he’s so fragile. He nods as I pass, and Arden shows me to Cherry’s room. I deposit her on the bed, hesitating in the doorway, unsure of what to do next. I want to stay and make sure Cherry is okay, but I don’t know if that’s smart with everything that’s happened between us. Just as I make my mind up to get in my car and drive back to Brighton, Arden answers for me. “I’m going to make sure she’s okay, then I’ll be down, don’t leave yet, okay?”
“Y—” I clear my throat. “Yes…I mean, no. I won’t.”
Back downstairs, I find her dad sitting at the kitchen table. I take the seat across from him. I’d thought the first time I met this man would be under vastly different circumstances. In my head, I’d be here as Cherry’s boyfriend, not Arden’s dad. He’d give me a hard time, maybe grill me about my interest in his daughter, then ultimately give me his blessing.
“You found our girls,” he says gruffly. I see where Cherry’s throaty voice comes from.
“I did. I also smashed some prick’s balls with the toe of my trainer.” I smirk.
He meets my gaze, a grin matching my own stretched across his lips. “I like you, son. Why don’t you stick around a bit? It’s nice having someone other than teenage girls to talk to.”
“Oh, umm…” I should say no. I should go back home, but the offer is too tempting to pass up. Not only do I get to make sure Cherry is okay, but I also get time with my daughter.
“I can’t offer much more than a hot meal to show my gratitude…” He pauses, realizing the same time as I do, that we haven’t been properly introduced.
“Cash.” I extend my hand.
“Randy.” We shake and he stands, moving toward the fridge. “Cherry’s my wild card. Has been ever since her mother took off.” He shakes his head. “Coffee or beer?”
“A beer, please.”
He grabs a can of some American lager out of the fridge and passes it to me, before going over to the carafe and pouring himself a cup. “She was doing good down in Brighton. I knew telling her would send her spiraling.”
“I think not telling her had the same effect.”
He takes a drink. “Yeah.”
“What’s the diagnosis?” Arden said he was sick, and for Cherry to have gone on a bender, I assume it’s bleak, but curiosity gets the best of me.
“Cancer.” He spits the words out like chewing tobacco. Bitter, dark, toxic, much like the disease itself. “They removed it, and the chemo is supposed to make sure it stays gone.”
A throat clears from the entrance. We turn in unison to spot Arden. “She’s in her bed.”
I swallow down the urge to go check on her and stand. I’m not sure why, but suddenly I get nervous. “Okay…”
“You’re not leaving, are you?” Arden asks.
“Of course, he isn’t. I was just about to order pizza,” Randy grunts.
“NO,” Arden interjects. “I’ll cook. I mean, I might have the munchies, but also, I want to cook.”
“Can you cook?” Randy arches his brow.
“I can make spaghetti,” she huffs, fisting her hands on her hips.
I smile. “I love spaghetti.”
After dinner, the three of us sit and binge watch Jeopardy. Arden is as smart as her mother and as fluent in sarcasm as me. It’s nice spending time with her, but I can’t help worrying about Cherry.
Arden checks on her every now and then, and the urge to see if she’s okay for myself has me on edge.
Once Alex says goodbye for the fourth time, Randy yawns. “Okay, I’m calling it. Cash, there’s blankets in the hall closet upstairs. The couch is lumpy, but you’ll live.”
“I’m going to get a shower and go up too.” Arden stands. She makes it halfway to the stairs before she jogs back. “Thanks again for saving the day.” Without thinking I pull her into my arms. It’s the first time I’d ever given her a hug. Warmth spreads through me. Joy like I’ve never known. I might be the world’s most okayest dad, but I am her dad, and for the first time I feel like I might have a chance with her.
She flashes me a shy smile, then bounds up the stairs.
The living room is cloaked in darkness, and with the house quiet, I let my body succumb to sleep.
Hours later I’m startled awake as cinnamon surrounds me. Warmth crawls up my body, and delicate fingers palm my cock. “Get up,” I growl, my voice thick with sleep.
“Don’t tell me you’re mad at me too,” Cherry says, settling between my legs. My eyes blink open in time to see her pus
h my knees apart.
“Mad?” I laugh darkly.
“Okay, pissed?” She grins up at me. Her hand flexes against my groin and I snag her wrist and stand, forcing her to her feet. I move with determination, pulling her behind me out onto the porch. The night air is cool, but my rage warms me.
Slamming her back into the door, I give in to my anger and frustration. “You ran, leaving me that bullshit note, then you get drunk and high off God knows what, and let some prick feel you up. You let him kiss you. Who knows what you would have let him do if I hadn’t shown up.” I grip her face in my hand, squeezing her cheeks, my thumb brushes over her lips. My chest heaves up and down as images of her sprawled out on the bed play on loop in my mind. “And you think I’m mad?”
“Livid?” she says in that low throaty voice of hers.
This woman drives me insane. Insane with lust, and jealousy and guilt, yet I can’t stay away. She is mine. Mine to protect. Mine to fuck. Mine to cherish. “If we weren’t in your father’s house and if my daughter wasn’t upstairs, I’d fuck that smirk off your face.”
“Sounds like fun,” she pushes.
“This is not a game, Cherry, and I am not a boy. I don’t have time for this self-destructive bullshit. I like you; I like spending time with you. I don’t expect you to have your shit together at nineteen. Lord knows I was a mess. But if you want to be mine, then you. Talk. To. Me.” I punctuated each word with a squeeze of her jaw.
Shaking out of my grasp, she hisses. “Do you think I want to be like this? That I want to be fucked up? I don’t. I don’t know why I do this shit. If it were that easy, I’d be nice and normal and when I find out the guy I hooked up with was my best friend’s dad, I’d walk away. But I’m not and I didn’t. The fact that you didn’t either means you’re more like me than you care to admit.”
“Yeah, maybe I am, but not communicating is a hard fucking limit for me. Putting that bullshit in your body is a hard fucking limit for me. Spreading your legs for that Blink-182 reject is a hard fucking limit for me.”
“Nothing happened,” she defends.
Cherry Bomb (Brighton #1) Page 11
