Page 86 of Daddies' Little Troublemaker

Fuck.

“But we need to talk,” I say. “I have to explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain, I can see quite clearly what’s going on, that you’ve been taking advantage of Evelyn?—”

“Nobody’s taking advantage of me, Dad,” Evelyn says.

He doesn’t respond to her, but instead points at me and Caleb. “You two need to go. Now.”

“Mark, don’t do this,” I say.

“You should hear us out,” Caleb adds.

“Don’t tell me you love each other.” Mark shakes his head and laughs as if it’s the stupidest thing he ever heard. “Lincoln, you’ve never loved anyone except yourself.”

That fucking hurts.

Before I can respond, he continues, “After what you did to Willow, you think I’d want you anywhere near my daughter in a…a sexual way?”

That hurts even more. Willow and I were a toxic cocktail, between her need to be the only person in my life, and my need to dominate her and punish her for that, and her struggle to disentangle herself from it all. I could never tell her that I loved her. I could never tell any woman that I loved her. It took me over a year of therapy to unpack everything that went wrong with Willow, and Mark knows it.

I start to say, “Look, I?—”

Mark raises his eyebrows, challenge clear on his face. “Can you say it? Can you fucking say it?”

Do I love her, that’s what he wants to know. Can I admit my feelings, right here and now?

“I don’t know if we’re there.” I can’t look at Evelyn. “It’s too new.”

Mark holds out his arms and says, “Come here, Pumpkin.”

I want to reach over and grab her wrist, tug her to me, and offer her the protection and comfort she needs. But her dad is here. Not her daddies. Her dad. And she needs him.

She doesn’t look at me or Caleb. Instead, she goes to Mark, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. She whispers, “Dad, I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You could never.” He pats her back and glares at us past her shoulder. “Get the fuck out,” he mouths.

It was too perfect, too good, with Evelyn. Why did I ever think it could last?

Should I fight? I can’t fight Mark. He’s my big brother. I’ve looked up to him since I was a lost five-year-old, meeting my new stepdad and stepbrother for the first time. He was eleven and he was the coolest and I would’ve done anything, any fucking thing, to make him like me.

And here he is, throwing me out of his house.

Without a word, I walk past him and Evelyn. I try to make eye contact with her, but her gaze is stubbornly on the floor.

In Mark’s bedroom, I look around. I don’t have much, so it’s easy to pack. One thing after another goes into my luggage. Caleb’s in the spare room, doing the same.

Once I’m done packing, I go downstairs toward the front door. I hear Evelyn crying in the kitchen. Instinctively, I try to move toward her. I want to pull her into my arms, sprinkle kisses all over her face, reassure her that we’ll work everything out.

But Mark blocks the way. “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

The front door is open behind me, night air spilling into the house, moths flitting inside, attracted by the light. Caleb’s already outside, tossing his bags into the back of his rental.

Mark’s expression is a mix of anger and bleak sorrow as he looks at me. “She’s my daughter. My baby girl. Why did you have to touch her, of anyone? Any other woman in the world. Not her.”

“I’m—I’m sorry,” I say, sounding meek even to my own ears.

He shakes his head. “That’s not good enough.”

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