Melissa (Daughters Series, #3)

by Leanne Davis

  Braking quickly, I slam my bike to a stop and put the kickstand down before working on my helmet. When I finally unstrap it, I nearly throw it in the air with joy. “I beat you. I fucking beat you, Dad!”

  Then I slap my hand over my big mouth. My gloating and glee are inappropriate to the father who isn’t sleeping at his own house, and all because of me. He still isn’t talking to me, and he was the one who kicked me out. I only weaseled my way back there after the stupid stunt I pulled while being high.

  Dad shuts his bike off, tugging on his helmet. He can easily sit on his bike with both feet planted on the ground and keep it balanced between his legs. I slowly release my breath when I notice the grin on his face. He’s smiling at me. His smile is totally being directed at me. Heaving himself off the bike, he puts the kickstand down and says, “You sure did. You fucking beat me.”

  He tosses the helmet into the grass near our feet and takes his backpack off his shoulders as he approaches me. Spotting a flat rock, he sits down on it.

  I follow him and stay close on his heels. “I shouldn’t have sworn at you like that.”

  He shrugs. “It’s better than crying. Or listing off more excuses. Or being afraid of me. I’m not Seth, I don’t care about your foul mouth. I can be pretty vulgar myself.” He grins and opens a bag of pretzels, offering them to me. Surprised but grateful, I take a handful.

  “Seth is really good,” I agree.

  Dad munches on a mouthful before saying, “He is. Far better than I could ever be. His parents are like that too. I always liked Finn and found him more interesting than most people. And he doesn’t swear or drink or lose his cool, except on occasion.”

  Lulled into his Dad’s congenial comradery, I sit down too. “How long have you guys been friends?”

  “Well, let’s see, your mom met them while I was in Africa. So… I guess it’s been close to thirty years now. Wow. I can’t believe how long it’s been.”

  “Do you like Seth? Or do you think he’s too good? You know, like a wimp or a nerd or something.” I’m not sure why I inquire. I mean, why should I care if Dad likes Seth or not? He must like him though or Seth wouldn’t be living with us. My stomach relaxes and I’m again filled with hope. I don’t want Dad laughing at Seth or calling him a nerd or something rude like that. It’s so ironic, since I was the one who used to do all the name–calling.

  He leans to the side on the big, flat rock, using his elbow to support himself. “He’s not a wimp. There’s a huge difference between boys who are decent, high–quality guys and wimps. Seth knows his own mind, and he’s establishing his place in the world. He won’t allow anyone to cause him to doubt that. His quiet confidence is a lot like his dad’s. So no, I might give him shit but that’s because he won’t be offended. He’s too smart, and the type of boy we need more of in this world. I always thought he and Emily might share common interests. They carry themselves with the same air of confidence and book smarts. But she’s serious about Harrison. Never dreamed that would go on as long as it has…”

  I bite my tongue and keep my face down so he doesn’t see the blush filling my cheeks. Emily? He actually contemplated Seth and freaking Emily as a couple? Why? Because they’re both blond? So what if they both attend college and make good grades? That doesn’t mean they make a good damn match. My blood stream starts to boil. My brain is screaming no! I don’t like hearing that Dad considered Emily and Seth in the same sentence.

  “Don’t you guys love Harrison?” I ask, daring to glance back at him now.

  He lets out a grunt. “I’m torn on how I feel about Harrison. I guess I should be glad she’s found a decent, stable, upstanding kid who treats her well. I’m glad for that. But… she was only seventeen when they met. I think… I don’t know, maybe she needs more space so she can live a little too before she decides to settle down. The older I get, the younger you girls seem to me, even though you’re supposed to be grown–ups.”

  “Wait. Live a little? As in what? Having other boyfriends? What?”

  He chuckles. “Surprises you, huh? I’m not a complete prude, Missy. I don’t expect you girls to wait and have sex only after you get married. Emily and Christina seem so naive. Christina has only grown up and gotten a more realistic attitude about life and people because of Max’s influence. She listens to him and he expands her understanding of the world. Harrison and Emily? That’s kind of like sending two babies out into their own idealistic world.”

  I’m surprised to hear all of that.

  “But not like me, right? I’m so worldly because I’ve had sex with more than one guy.” I keep my gaze averted. I’ve never said sex in relation to myself while talking to my dad.

  “Oh, because we’re talking about my two favorite daughters, right? Emily and Christina? That’s what you convinced yourself, isn’t it?”

  I snap my gaze to his. “Only because it’s true,” I counter in a snotty tone. I am sure of that.

  He grunts and leans forward, pulling out a sandwich wrapped in a baggie and holding out half to me. I lean forward to grab it, checking to make sure he didn’t put any meat on it. Just cheese and mayonnaise. I stifle a groan. Not exactly my first choice. Not even a shred of lettuce or a slice of tomato. Still, I’m hungry… and Dad made it for me and remembered not to put any meat on it. He respected my preference.

  “Well, which one is my favorite? I can’t have two out of three. That would contradict ‘favorite.’”

  I bite and chew thoughtfully. “I don’t know. But it’s not me,” I grumble.

  “Oh, no. It couldn’t be you. And I never, not even once, did anything with just you. I never once talked to you privately, or hugged you, or kissed you goodnight, or helped you with homework, did I? Any of that ring a bell?”

  “I never said you weren’t an excellent parent. That’s why I’m such a colossal disappointment.”

  He takes a huge bite of his turkey, ham, and cheese sandwich. Just mayonnaise and olives but no veggies for my dad. It makes my heart ping when I recall that. His habits are so familiar to me, but I’d forgotten them during the last few years and I like remembering them again. I pull my legs up and sit cross–legged. “You should have had a damn boy.”

  He lets out what sounds like a bark. “What the fuck about me would make you think I need any damn son? All right, let’s get into this, Missy. I don’t need a damn boy to be happy. I had you. Right? I had you right along beside me, conquering every forest and mountain trail I ever wanted to go on. You were always there to race with me through the motocross track with jumps and even managed to beat me. Christina smacks my ass in line and teaches me what I need to know about fathering a girl. Emily plays catch and every other sport I could want to pursue. Tell me, in all that, where would I have any time for a damn boy?”

  “I always thought you might have wanted one, given you’re all Army and tough and stuff.”

  He beamed. “I am tough. Don’t forget that, because sometimes, I do.”

  I let his words sink in. “Do you mean that? What you said?”

  He shakes his head. “This is what I don’t understand, when did you begin to doubt how I feel about you? What about all the things we did together for years? You weren’t some damn afterthought. The middle child I ignored. You were with me, more than your sisters, so many weekends off riding the trails. You were always the one who loved our vast variety of animals and you watched and helped me as I built their enclosures or cared for them. Don’t you remember being by my side all those years?”

  I do. I remember. My heart starts to beat faster. Warmth floods my whole body.

  “And you loved it all just as much as I do. I probably spent most of my spare time alone with you and yet, you insist that Christina and Emily are my favorites? Did it ever occur to you that you might be my goddamned favorite, Melissa Jane Hendricks? Huh? Did you ever think about that? You got too busy for me in high school. You started dating and hanging with your friends. You quit riding with me and coming out to the track and seekin
g my counsel. It wasn’t me that stopped wanting you. But I had to respect your life choices, didn’t I? I realized you were growing up and it was only natural you’d want to spend more time with your friends and shit. Do you think I liked that? I missed you like hell at first and I got used to it. I had to. Perhaps I got a little pissed that you didn’t miss the things you did with me more than you did.”

  My mouth is hanging open so wide, my jaw feels like it could unhinge. What. The. Hell? I am shocked into silence.

  “Do you still?”

  “Do I still what, exactly?”

  “Miss me? I doubt I’m someone you can miss very much.”

  He lowers the half–eaten side of sandwich as his chewing slows. He finally sets the sandwich down on the baggie and shoves it aside. Getting to his feet, he says, “I miss you. What do you think I was doing the day I kicked you out? I was crying. I was crying on the damn bed. Like a pathetic little girl whose steady boyfriend said he didn’t like her anymore.”

  “You… were?”

  “Yes. Do you think that was easy for me? It was the worst thing I’ve ever had to do.”

  “But totally necessary.”

  He nods slowly. His gaze is solemn. “I hoped you’d grow to understand that. It was out of love, as well as fear. I know where you’ve been hanging out. Seth informed your mom about the biker and his club. I know what goes on with clubs like that.” He sighs and walks a few steps away, kicking a rock. “But about a day later, I realized that wasn’t the right thing to do. But you were already gone. I didn’t know how to find you. So I prayed you’d show up again and be okay. And then you—”

  “Didn’t show up exactly okay.”

  “No.” His gaze returns to me. “Here’s the thing, Missy, and I’ve thought about this a lot. For going on two years, I haven’t known what to do, but my last course of action wasn’t the right thing at all. So…” He comes closer to me, and his voice is soft, almost sweet, but his gaze remains fiercely riveted on mine. He reaches out and touches my cheek. Something he hasn’t done in months. Tears pool in my eyes. He swallows.

  “The thing is, I can’t tell you who to date. I can’t tell you who to have sex with or not. I see now that the more I press and control you, the more you run off or rebel by doing whatever I ask you not to do. I realize I can’t stop you from doing drugs, or hanging with an infamously bad crowd… but I’m not going to kick you out. And I won’t give up on you either. I’m not going to tell you it’s okay.” He leans in closer. His eyes capture mine, and his voice sounds harsher. “But know this, Missy: I will be right there from now on. Whenever you leave our house, I’ll follow you. I’ll wait outside Anand’s house and see that you get home safely. And never again take detours up on top of a rickety water tower. I won’t let you ever fall to the mercy of unscrupulous men while you’re high. I won’t let my anger stop me again from helping you the best way I know how. Which is by being there.”

  My eyebrows shoot up in astonishment. He’s just being dramatic. Dear Lord. There is no way he could do such a thing. But he sees the doubt on my face as he studies me.

  “Do you understand, daughter? If you are having sex with Anand, I will be outside his house, admittedly off his land so he can’t arrest me, but there all the same. I will be right there. If you are doing drugs, I’ll be right there. I’ll call the police if necessary. If you ever again go someplace with people who are going to score or sell the shit, you guessed it. There I am. Test me. Try me. I have enough guns to arm a small militia.”

  “You do?” My eyes grow huge as my mouth widens even further.

  “Sure. Former Army. They’re locked up in my gun safe. I never advertise it, but I’m not nearly as safe and sane as you think I am. I know how to use all of them.” He leans in closer, “And don’t fool yourself into believing I won’t use them if I feel the need to. I’ve done it before to protect someone I love. So when it comes to my daughter? Well, fuck, honey, I would gut anyone who dared try to hurt you. Now I realize my fault and blame in this; I’ve been the one doing the hurting. I’m sorry for that. And for temporarily forgetting who I am. Which is a psychotically overprotective father who has lots of weapons and won’t hesitate to use each and every one of them.”

  “Uh… um, what are you talking about, Dad? You can’t be serious. How can you follow me around?”

  “Honey, do you think I took the news of where Seth found you lightly? I sat there and listened to every single word you said. And what Seth said. And everyone else. I took it all in. I acknowledged my role in it then and there. I even reacted as other parents might have. The thing is, I’m not like other parents. I will quit my job, and sell our house, and do anything necessary to make sure that you three girls and your mother are always safe. Get that? Anything. Although it might not seem rational to you, if you are going to continue putting yourself out there in danger, I’ll be out there with you, fighting to protect you. You never knew me as a soldier. I was damn good, Missy. I can find you anywhere. And protect you indefinitely. And know this too: I might not prevent it, but I will be right there with you if you decide to get hooked on drugs or alcohol. And if you think I’ll sit idly by while any man hurts you, in any way, that’s not happening. I’ve hurt men before. I’ve killed men before. And for you? I’d do it without blinking an eye. So it’s on you, Missy, where we go from here. But remember that you are no longer free to pursue dangerous people and indulge in unacceptable behavior. I refuse to sit on the sidelines like other parents, shrugging my shoulders because I don’t know what to do with you. I will do that.”

  “You’ve killed people? Dad, what are you talking about?”

  “I’m warning you that you will be under my supervision and care from now on. I will give up anything else in my life to make sure you three and your mother are okay. You’re not okay, Missy. I didn’t know what to do about it before. I fumbled around and lost my way. But now I think I’ve found my way back to you again.”

  Strangely, after our oddly intense conversation, I burst into laughter. He’s so serious. I don’t doubt him. He stands there with his fists clenched, his jaw locked, and a menacing scowl. His voice is low and calm and his expression falters at the sound of my laughter. He thinks I’m laughing at him, but I’m really laughing at how happy I feel.

  “Laugh all you want. I’m serious. You don’t know the things I’ve done… and can do… Never again will any woman I love be victimized in front of me.”

  My laugh stops abruptly. Mom. He’s referring to my mom’s gang rape, which he witnessed. I suddenly lunge at him and he seems shocked by my sudden, unplanned onslaught. I hurl myself into his arms and he has to step backwards to grab me. We haven’t embraced each other, not really, except in a perfunctory way, in perhaps two years. I bury my face into his shoulders. My voice is muffled talking into his shirt.

  “I’m not laughing at you. I laughed because hearing that you would do that for me is wonderful. Even if it’s totally wrong and perhaps unhealthy to react to your daughter messing up all the time and having stupid boyfriends, I love that’s what you say you want to do for me. But Dad, I swear to you, no one is victimizing me. Not once. Not ever. I allowed everything I ever did to happen. Maybe it was wrong, but for whatever reason it happened, maybe it’s what I needed to do… you know, in order to get here.”

  His arms hold me closer to him and he sighs deeply. “When did we get so lost from each other?”

  “I don’t know. Growing pains? Maybe. But I hate it. I can’t stand knowing that you hate me and are so disappointed in me. But I also feel like something doesn’t work right inside me. I really want to find out what it is. That is, if… if you can just give me some time.”

  He leans me back so he can look at my face. “You know, I waited two years to be with your mother. She had stuff to work out too. Different from yours, but stuff. I’m not against counseling and improving yourself. I fully believe in it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be with your mom now, would I?”

  “But Emily’s
right, I’m not Mom. There’s no emotional trauma in my past. So I can’t figure out why I can’t be the girl I want to be.”

  He tugs on my ponytail. “That’s what you must find out. You’re not supposed to know all the answers, there are plenty of people to help you find them.”

  “You can give me more time then, to find out?”

  “Yeah. Every second you need.”

  As we simply hug each other quietly, my heart swells and my energy and motivation are up. What he says is better than any other gift anyone could or would offer me. I lean back so I can meet his gaze. “Did you really kill people?”

  He chuckles. “Yeah.”

  “All for the Army? Or was there something more? For Mom? The way you said it…”

  He sighs, letting me go and sitting back down. “Sit.”

  I do and he starts chewing his sandwich again. “So keep this strictly between you and me. Only your mother and I know what I am about to tell you.”

  “Not even Christina?”

  “Nope. Not even my favorite daughter knows it.”

  For the first time in my life, I playfully punch him and grin at his teasing. For once, I might believe that Christina isn’t actually his favorite. Or Emily. “You probably tell each of us in private that we’re your favorite daughter.”

  He shrugs, grinning. “Well, you are my favorite. My hell on wheels. My partner in speed and crazy. My companion and adrenaline junkie. Crap. Can you imagine Christina out here? She’d be lecturing us on the safety of racing across the field.”

  I laugh out loud. Yes. I love how my dad mocks Christina’s prissiness. It’s really nice for once. “But then again, Emily’s my other favorite. With that damn, strange talent of hers and her ability to tackle any athletic sport and become the best at it. Hate to brag, but I was like that too. Got picked first for every team, which, in the Army, is priceless. And Christina? Damn. That girl is sharp. I like debating with her, so she’s my all–time favorite.”