Page 101 of Fighting the Odds

The happiness that once filled my heart quickly disappears.

“I’m sorry, I wish you could, but you can’t. I can tell her anything you want me to.”

“Okay.” I can see the quiver in her lip. It’s killing me. They need to hurry the fuck up or I’m not gonna care. My girl is going to see her sister.

A lightbulb clicks.

I can do this. No one would ever know. I just need the right place.

“You know what? I think you and I need to have a picnic. What do you think?”

“A picnic?”

“Yep. Get your stuff. I’m going to clear it with Dad, and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

I leave Sam’s room in search of Dad. John’s laughter drifts up the stairs, followed by Dad’s. Heading down them, I take two at a time, jumping off the third step from the bottom.

“Dad!” I yell.

“No yelling in my house. If you want to talk to me, then you come in here where I am!” he hollers back at me.

“Dad, really, you’re doing the same thing.” I roll my eyes at him when I step into the kitchen. John has his head down, his hand covering his mouth as his shoulders jump up and down.

“Hey, who’s the parent here? Me or you?”

“You. Dad, I was wondering if I could take Sam out today for a little while. I was going to take her shopping for some nail polish and then maybe to the park for a picnic.” Please say yes. I cross my fingers behind my back.

“I don’t see a problem with it. Be careful and have her back by three.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

I pluck the keys from the hook on the wall and call up the stairs for her. She comes flying down them, not even paying attention to where her feet are landing. I’m not sure how she doesn’t trip and fall.

“I’m ready to go, Colt!” she squeals.

We head out the door and I pull my phone out and send a message.

Me: There’s been a slight change of plans.

Me: I’m here

I message her promptly at eleven. She wasn’t happy about losing sleep, but I promised her it would be well worth it.

Sierra: be right down.

It’s about seven minutes later when she steps out of the building. She’s in a pair of cut-off shorts, a form fitting shirt, and her hair is pulled up on top of her head in a messy bun. She has a backpack over her shoulder and sunglasses on her face.

She’s a vision.

I’ve got to be the biggest idiot in the world for not seeing who she truly was from the start.

Opening the door, I get out and hurry over to her. “Hey Sierra, can I take your bag?”

She looks at me hesitantly before handing it over. I take it and slip the strap over my shoulder.

“I’m sorry I woke you, but trust me, it’s going to be worth it,” I tell her with pride. Just thinking about the look on her face has me excited.

“Promises, promises.” She winks and damn if it isn’t hot.

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