Page 16 of Fire

“Is he her dad?”

Ivy’s brows furrow. Her lips part. She looks almost dumbfounded by the question until her eyes harden and her lips purse. “The only one she’s ever known.”

“Can I—” I start the question before I know which of the thousands I have is coming out, but it doesn’t matter.

Ivy holds up a hand. “I appreciate the help, but I need to go. There’s just, well, there’s a lot on my plate right now, Micah, and I don’t have the energy for whatever game you think you’re playing.”

“Game?” But I’m backing up, allowing her space to stand. She’s made it clear our relationship wasn’t what I thought it was. That I was a fool for ever thinking we were more than a stupid high school fling.

“You can’t just start caring out of the blue.” She presses her lips together, daring me to say otherwise.

It’s a challenge I can’t pass up. “I’ve always cared. Always.”

But Ivy’s too angry to hear me. She stands and stalks around the front of the car. “I’ve got to get home,” she murmurs, more to herself than to me. “Nell’s probably back from school by now.”

I want to ask her what the fuck is happening. How can she kiss me like that and then tell me I’m playing games? If anyone’s playing anything, it’s her.

But for once in my life, I keep my mouth shut.

“Have a better day, Ives,” I say while she lowers herself into the driver’s seat, shaking her head, leaving me to wonder if I’ve ever been right about anything in my life.

CHAPTER SIX

Ivy

I watch Micah through the rearview. He threads his hands into his hair, brows knitting in confused frustration the way they used to when we were young, in love, and certain our futures were forever entwined.

Or…at least I thought our futures were forever entwined.

He always said as much, and silly me, I believed him. I fell for the whole thing, hook, line, and sinker. When I told the story to Julian, he rolled his eyes at the gullible young girl, giving her virginity to the boy who said everything she wanted to hear.

Micah promised he’d love me forever, but his actions over the years have shown me the truth. He breaks promises. Runs from responsibility. Then has the audacity to kiss me like nothing happened. Like I didn’t beg him for help when I was at my weakest, and he left me to deal with it all on my own.

I yank my attention away from the traitor in my rearview. “That’s where you belong, Micah Hutton. In the rearview.” Car in gear. Engine stuttering and shuddering, fingers crossed because please oh please don’t let the engine fail me now, and away we go when it rattles to life.

What kind of man ignores his daughter for her entire life, then pretends he doesn’t know she exists?

Answer: the kind of man who talks about love when all he wants is sex.

“Is that her dad?” I mimic Micah’s deep voice, so rich and smooth that it still sends a shiver of pleasure through me, evoking feelings of home and comfort and the best years of my life.

How is that even possible?

Am I really so simpleminded that I find anything about him pleasant or soothing? Or have my years with Julian just been that hard?

For that matter, how can Micah even ask that question? Is that her dad? Of course that isn’t her dad! You know this!

“You always cared, my ass. If you cared, you would have been there for us. You would have shown up when I told you I was pregnant. You would have been with me when Nell was born. You’d know her name. Her favorite color. You’d know she’s just like you and you’d love her as much as I do. That’s what caring looks like, you crazy son of a bitch!” I slap the steering wheel—anger feels more righteous than tears—then curse when my palm stings.

The Huttons are a high achieving family, but Micah went a different way. Not a bad way. (At least I didn’t think so back then.) Just his own way. He was smart and kind and hardworking, but always managed to get in trouble at school because his mind was somewhere else, or he was never afraid to put his ideas to the test. Always on the move, always on the go, never exactly where he was supposed to be.

Just like his daughter.

My parents hated that about him, lecturing me over and over because they thought he wasn’t good enough for me. They wanted someone who towed the line. A golden boy, football star, college scholarship, overachiever rather than my dark-haired first love with his wild mind. I fought them over him for years.

It kills me they were right.

How can he look so glad to see me when he disappeared the second things got real? Leaving me to deal with every single consequence on my own? Every single challenge? Does he really think he can swoop into my life and play the hero now?

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