by Dannika Dark
He set the cocoa in front of me and took a seat to my right. “You don’t get to ask me irrelevant shit like that until you tell me where you’ve been. I buried you.”
My palms began to sweat, so I peeled off my gloves. “I never meant to hurt you.”
Crush waited with immeasurable patience as I stuffed the gloves into my pockets and then sipped my cocoa.
He jerked his chin toward my cup. “Three tiny marshmallows, just the way you like.”
“You hate marshmallows.”
“I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of the bag. Damn, they’re probably stale.”
I set the glass down. “They’re great. They’re perfect.” My attention wandered around the room. Same wooden cabinets, even the same shag rug in the living room. I kept searching for something new, but it was as if no time had passed. It even smelled the same.
Crush reached across the table and grasped my hand. He started to say something and then covered his face, wiping his red eyes. “It’s just so damn good to see you. Where have you been all this time? Why didn’t you call? Are you in some kind of trouble? I got friends, Raven. You know that. They can make problems go away.”
“I don’t have problems.”
“That’s a nice blade on your belt. Think I didn’t notice it?”
I pulled away and sat back.
Crush wiped his face and tugged on his goatee as he studied me real hard. “You look different.”
“I am different.”
He jerked his chin up. “Does he have something to do with it?”
“He’s part of my life now. But he’s not the reason I left.”
Crush stared daggers at Christian. “Go stand outside. This is family business.”
It hardly mattered with Christian’s Vampire hearing, but I gave him a look to go anyhow.
When the door closed, I rested my elbow on the table. “I don’t know where to start.”
He scooted forward. “From the beginning. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You know how aimless I was years ago. It was a confusing time for me, and I was busy trying to find myself. Someone offered me a better life, but I couldn’t come back to this one. That was part of the deal.”
“What deal? You’re not making sense. Did you sell yourself into prostitution? I’ve seen some hard shit in my day, Cookie. Nothing will shock me.”
I rubbed my face. Was I really going to do this? What the hell did it matter? Christian was going to erase his memory, but now I realized that my daddy was going to think I’d been locked up in a loony bin. “The world isn’t what you think it is. I can’t explain the hows and whys; all I can tell you is that someone offered me a chance to be an immortal. I stupidly listened to them and wound up in a morgue. Someone else took me in—a bad man. But even when I escaped, I couldn’t come back to this life. That’s the deal. I’m… I’m not human anymore, Daddy. I’m a monster.”
He sighed. “Maybe I know a little something about demons. There’s a hardness in your eyes that wasn’t there before; I’ve seen that look. I never thought I’d see it in my own little girl.” He wiped his eyes, fighting back the emotions. “I tried to protect you from that. Tried to teach you.”
I reached out and took his rough hand, still stained with oil and grease from the shop. “It’s not your fault. I came here because this is the last time I’ll get to see you. I’m not even supposed to be here, but I had to come back. I needed to tell you…”
“Tell me what?”
My lip quivered as I stared into his blue eyes. The lines on his face told a story of a million bike rides and living life to the fullest. “How much I love you. How you were a good father and I was an ungrateful little shit who never should have left home.”
Crush got out of his chair and pulled me into a tight hug. “There’s nothing you could have done that’ll make me not love you. Do you hear me?” He jerked back and firmly held my head between his hands. “Do you hear me, Raven? Nothing.”
“I’ve killed people.”
His jaw clenched. “Did they have it coming?”
“That’s not the point.”
“It doesn’t matter what you’ve done.” He pressed his finger against my forehead. “I know your heart. I know that piece inside you that you never let anyone else see. You always tried to be the tough girl—Daddy’s girl—but I wanted a better life for you. Not to live in some shithole trailer park and marry a no-good loser who spends too much time at the bar and thinks he can put his hands on you. I thought if you worked in my garage I could pass it down to you someday and you’d have your own business, but maybe my version of a better life and yours were never on the same level. We fought, but that’s because I wasn’t ready to let go of my baby girl. I knew you wanted to meet different people and have a nice job—it was the letting go part I couldn’t deal with. Once you got a taste of the good life, I wouldn’t have a place in it anymore.”
“I wasn’t too good to work in your shop. I was stupid.”
He sat me down and then took the chair in front of me. “You never belonged in a garage. You’re better than that. My princess deserves a mansion.”
Thinking about Keystone, I offered him a fragile smile. “I have a good life now—a nice place to live. I’m not living on the streets and struggling to survive anymore.”
“You could have come home anytime. You’ve always had a place here.”
“I know you feel that way, but I don’t belong here anymore.” Without dragging out the explanation, I let him see my fangs.
Crush sat back and got real quiet.
Embarrassed, I retracted them and warmed my hands on the mug. “How did you bury me without a body?”
He folded his arms, eyes downcast. “They had one, but it was badly burned. I couldn’t give a positive ID. I had your dental records, and they said it matched.”
“They lied. That’s what they do to protect their own.” I closed my eyes, knowing my Creator had staged the elaborate fiction. “He made you believe I died in a fire?”
Of all things—it was the one cause of death that would have devastated my father, who had lost my mother the same way.
“I buried you. Tried to forget for a while. But I don’t know. Sometimes I could feel you,” he said, closing a fist over his heart. “It was easier to imagine you found a new life than to think it was you in that coffin. I’d be okay with living alone if it meant your happiness. You’re my heart.” His voice cracked, and he tightened his lips.
I bent forward with my head in my hands. “This is so hard. This is so much harder than I thought it would be.” I quietly sobbed, my teardrops falling to the linoleum floor.
Crush got out of his seat and disappeared down the hall. I untucked my T-shirt from the front of my pants and wiped my face on it. What I’d been seeking all along wasn’t resolution or even an explanation; I wanted permission.
Permission to live my life. Permission to leave him. Permission to be happy.
Crush’s heavy gait pulled me out of my thoughts. He set a familiar keepsake on the table. “I thought you might want it back. It was broken when you left it here, but I tinkered around and…”
When he lifted the lid to the jewelry box, I admired the pink satin lining. A sweet melody played as a ballerina in a white skirt twirled in front of a mirror. I smiled through tears as I touched the empty holders.
“I gave away your jewelry to Ren’s little girl. Remember her? She was a few years younger, and her momma never bought her anything in the way of trinkets. Hope you don’t mind.”
I shook my head.
“Your clothes too,” he added. “Not just to her, but a few of the guys saw me packing them up a year ago and asked if their kids could look through them. I guess it’s kind of nice seeing a part of you on them.”
“Can I keep this?”
“It’s all yours, Cookie. Your leather cuff bracelet is in the bottom drawer. One of the studs fell off, but I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it. You practically wore it ev
ery damn day when you were fifteen. You can keep it or throw it away.”
I closed the lid and took a deep breath. “I never appreciated everything you gave me. All I kept thinking about was what I didn’t have. I’m sorry for the asinine things I said to you, especially when I left home.”
“You were just a kid.”
“I was nineteen. I knew better.” I gripped his hand tighter on the table. “I was never ashamed of you. I love you, Daddy. You were always good enough.”
I’d never seen Crush break down except at my mother’s funeral. He was a hard man who locked his feelings up tight, but in the privacy of his kitchen, he wept.
We both did.
I wiped my eyes, unable to bear the sound of my father crying. “Did you stay sober?”
He wiped his face on a bandana sitting on the table. “There were nights when the demons kept me awake, but I never touched a drop.”
For the first time in my life, I was finally seeing Crush as more than just a father. I was seeing him as a man.
“Are you happy?” he asked.
I thought about it. “I’m getting there. It’s just hard not always knowing the right choices to make.”
He chuckled softly. “I know a little something about that.” He rested his fist against his cheek and just stared at me, and the twinkle in his eye gradually returned. In some parallel universe, we could have just been sitting there like father and daughter, sharing a cup of cocoa. Only no tragic past, no heartbreak. And for those few minutes, I tried to forget the truth.
We made small talk, and I caught up on the latest news with his buddies and how business was going at the shop. Crush owned a garage and had a good thing going. He said he’d socked away enough money to buy a house but decided he didn’t need all that space. The real shock was when he told me he’d been saving his money all those years ago for me—in case I wanted to go to college or if I ever got in a jam. But mostly because he wanted me to have an inheritance when he finally died—something that might be enough. It broke my heart. Even now that we were going our separate ways, I knew Crush would never spend that money on himself.
I didn’t have many funny stories to relay, but when I told him about the MoonPie truck, he laughed so hard that I joined in. I missed his laugh. Crush had a great rolling belly laugh that always sounded like he was going to piss himself. He didn’t really understand most of the story, like why I was riding on top of a car roof to begin with, but I think he got the gist of what I did for a living.
“Remember when I used to braid your hair?” he asked.
I smiled wistfully. “You were terrible.”
Crush scooted his chair all the way next to me and began to section off my hair to make two braids. I memorized the feel of his hands and that fatherly love.
“Does it have to be this way?” he asked. “Isn’t there a way I can stay in your life?”
I shook my head. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Danger is my middle name.”
“Where did you bury me?”
His hands paused for a moment before he worked on the plaits. “Next to your mama. Have you been out there lately?”
“No,” I whispered.
“Maybe you should. I bet she’d like you to visit her sometime.”
I turned in my chair to let him work on the left side. “Do you forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive. Sometimes we have to make tough choices. Like I said, there’s nothing you could do that would make me stop loving you. I wasn’t the best father, and you deserved to have a mom in your life. Maybe I should have settled down with someone so you’d have that softness a woman needs. But I did my best. I even bought you that damn rabbit.”
I smiled wistfully as he finished up the braid.
We sat for a quiet moment, having said most everything that needed to be said. I hadn’t realized until I glanced up at the clock that it was after midnight, and I dreaded our good-bye. “I have to go.”
He cradled my head and kissed me on the temple. “If you change your mind, I’m here. You got that? This doesn’t have to be final.”
I peered up at him. “Why aren’t you shocked by my fangs?”
He shrugged. “I’ve seen a lot of weird shit. You’re not a monster, Cookie.”
I barked out a laugh. “I’m the Cookie Monster.”
“It’s not funny. I’m dead serious. Don’t ever think that I could love you less. Maybe I can’t be there anymore to give you advice or help protect you, but you know my door is always open. Always. You look like you can take care of yourself now, but find someone you can trust and accept their help. You were always stubborn about wanting to do things on your own. You can’t live life alone. I have my friends, and we’re tight. We’re family. We’d bleed for each other. That’s what you need to find, even if I can’t be a part of it. But don’t think that’s me saying I’m okay with it. Fuck the rules, Raven. If you ever need to come back, we can pack our shit and move to Puerto Rico. You got that?”
I fell into his arms. “Thank you.”
Crush squeezed me so tight I didn’t think he’d ever let go, and I didn’t want him to. I scrunched his long hair in one hand and stared into the empty living room as our hug dissolved.
“I need to talk to your friend,” he said. “Tell him to get his ass in here.”
I nodded.
Crush gave me three quick kisses on the cheek. I used to hate it because his whiskers and goatee would tickle. All those stupid times I’d pushed him away.
I brushed my hand down his cheek and tugged on his goatee. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
He gave me a tight grin and flashed a silver tooth. “That’s my line.”
“Find an old lady, will ya? You shouldn’t be living out here alone, you old bulldog. Someone needs to make you pick up your dirty dishes and drag your ass to bed.”
“I’ll think about it, Cookie.” He pressed his forehead against mine. “I love you, little girl. With all the fire in my heart.”
After our final words, I collected my jewelry box and finally left my past behind.
Chapter 25
Christian stood by the door and watched Raven until she got inside the car. He didn’t need to ask what had happened; he’d heard it all. Every word, every gasp, every teardrop hitting the tile, and even the fluttering of her heart when her father told her good-bye.
Christian empathized. When he’d left Ireland centuries ago, he did so knowing he’d never see his sister and father again. It was a bold move leaving home and sailing across the ocean. His father had refused to go, arguing that he was too old for such adventures. In truth, Ireland was all he’d ever known. While leaving his father was difficult, it was especially trying on Christian to say good-bye to Cassie, his younger sister. She was just a wee lass at the time, but Christian had always held a soft spot for her. She was adventurous and loved her big brothers, but there was no way he could drag a blind girl across an ocean to an unknown, savage land. He still remembered the way she held on to him so tightly that he’d had to forcefully push her away. That was long ago, yet hearing Raven’s homecoming dredged up all those old memories.
He wanted to reach out and tell her it would get easier. But words were of little consolation, and black deeds often erased what little goodness remained in an immortal. Better she learn that for herself. He’d already complicated things enough with kissing her by the river. What they needed was more distance between them, but he found it increasingly impossible to do, and not just because of their partnership.
During the ambush back at the Bricks, Christian’s chest had constricted when she offered him her blood. That was a great honor among Vampires, and even though she’d done it so he could fight, it was by no measure a worthless offering. And hearing the soft whisper of her blood inside his veins made it even more impossible to keep his feelings neutral.
Seeing her fight those rogues had impressed him tremendously. The memory of her fangs gleaming white against her blo
odstained lips stirred something deep within him. Raven looked like a comic book heroine—a svelte yet feminine body with midnight hair that came alive when she moved. She showed courage and tenacity when faced with an ambush, and that was something you were either born with or learned through years of experience. She wasn’t polished or of noble blood. She didn’t wear perfume, and half the time she brushed her hair with her fingers. There was a wildness in her that couldn’t be tamed—a woman who wasn’t sitting around waiting for anyone’s help. She was raw and uncut, and that called to his Vampire heart.
Christian leaned on the railing. Raven had lowered the vanity mirror and was wiping her smeared eyeliner with a tissue. He gripped the wooden handrail, keenly aware that her heart rate had slowed. The flush of scarlet on her cheeks was a teasing sight to a Vampire. While he didn’t know exactly how she felt about him, he sensed subtle changes in her body whenever he entered the room. Her pupils would dilate before she averted her gaze and pretended not to notice him. In a millisecond, he could block out all noise in a room except for the sound of her heart skipping a beat. He never should have encouraged those feelings. After all, what did he care? Christian was a man who fucked women with wild abandon, never bothering to ask for names afterward.
He despised himself for allowing the attraction to flourish. And on top of everything, she was the little girl from the fire.
Jaysus. In the past century, Christian had experienced a few moments of weakness in his Vampire life, and not one of them had ever yielded anything but regret. He brushed his hand over the sleeve of his coat, still remembering the searing pain from the burns.
“Get your ass in here,” Crush said from inside. “I know how you Vamps like the cold.”
Christian straightened his back like an arrow.
“I know you heard me,” Crush said quietly.
Dumbfounded, Christian swung open the door and entered the trailer. “And what exactly do you know about Vampires?”
Crush laughed and tied back his long hair. “Enough to know you don’t like being called Vamps. Why don’t you shut the door, and we’ll talk.” He stood up and headed to the fridge. “Want a drink?”
