Page 24 of Angel's Fantasy

Kimbella

The two weekssince my dad had come home had flown by. My life had started to feel like a never-ending cycle of sleep, school, cooking, cleaning, and taking care of anything else that needed to be done around the house.

That was okay, though, because it kept my mind off Angel.

Well, mostly.

Sort of.

Okay, so it hadn’t stopped me from thinking of Angel at all. But my mountain of daily chores had at least given me an outlet for my frustration and all of the mixed emotions I still had for him.

Plus, as long as I was keeping my hands and mind busy, I didn’t have time to cry. And that was a win, for sure.

I’d barely made it home from class, and I was already bone-tired just thinking of all the things I still had left to do before I could go to bed. I opened the front door and let my book bag fall from my shoulder, giving my dad a little wave when he looked up from the TV in the living room.

“Kimbella, I’m glad you’re home,” he said, his eyes immediately moving from my face down to my hands. “Did you stop and get a newspaper like I asked?”

I nodded and reached down to grab it out of my bag. “Yeah, I’ve got it right here. Nothing exciting going on, though, from what I could tell.” I walked it over to him and kissed him on his forehead as I handed over his must-have newspaper. “What was so special about today’s paper, anyway?”

“Oh, nothing,” he said, immediately thumbing through the paper in a way that seemed a little too deliberate for casual browsing. “I just need to check my numbers, and a couple of these races…”

“Your numbers?” I could feel my stomach instantly turn into a ball of nerves, and I struggled to keep my voice level. “The races? Daddy, did you bet money on that stuff?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, and it hurt me to even say the words, given the shit that had gone down in both of our lives because of his gambling habit.

No, not habit. I was done calling it something it wasn’t. It was an addiction, and as much as I couldn’t believe he’d even think about gambling again, I knew that I couldn’t totally blame him, either. He was an addict. Gambling was his drug of choice.

“Not much,” he grumbled, finally folding the paper down to scowl at me. “And anyway, it’s not something you need to worry about, young lady. You’ve been a big help to me these past couple of weeks, but let’s not forget who the parent is around here.”

My mouth fell open and I stared at him for several seconds before I remembered to close it again. And then it opened again, all by itself, but still no words came out. I couldn’t believe that he had the nerve to try and pull the parent card on me.

What, like I was some mouthy child?

No. Nope. This was not how things were gonna go down.

“I don’t want you gambling anymore, Daddy,” I said, cutting right to the chase and choosing to ignore the rest of what he’d said. “Whatever bets you’ve placed, whatever money you’ve won or lost on those races, please, please make it the last time.”

There. I’d said it all as clearly and as diplomatically as I could. But I could tell by the crease that was forming in his forehead and the way his eyes blazed in anger that he wasn’t going to go along with what I wanted, even if it was the best thing for him to do.

“The way I spend my money is for me to decide, not you,” he said, slowly pushing himself to his feet. “These little races are nothing. A few dollars here and there. And it makes me happy. I don’t know who you think you are to try and tell me how I’m gonna live my life, but I won’t have it, Kimbella. Not under my own damn roof.”

“You should probably sit down,” I said through gritted teeth. I didn’t want to yell, and I didn’t want him yelling, since the man had just recovered from a heart attack. But I was seriously at the end of my rope with him, and I didn’t know how long I’d be able to hold my tongue. It would be best if he sat down and shut the hell up before we both lost our cool. “You don’t need to let your blood pressure go up too much.”

“Stop giving me orders,” he yelled, making my eyes go wide and involuntarily sending me back a couple of steps. “Just stop it. I’ll do whatever the fuck I want to do, and I’m not gonna put up with you trying to stop me.”

I didn’t say another word. What else could I say?

Instead, I kept my mouth closed and turned and ran up the stairs to my room before either of us had time to speak again. Surprisingly, though, I wasn’t crying.

I was mad.

Mad as hell that he’d put both of us in the same position that led him to barter me to Angel. Mad as hell that he’d forget so quickly how fucked up that was, or how his gambling had brought us nothing but hard times for years.

Whatever. Fuck it. If he wanted to waste his life and his money gambling, I couldn’t stop him.

But he damn sure wasn’t going to take me down with him this time.

I just… didn’t know what I was going to do about it.

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