Page 36 of Twisted Collide

I wonder if I can order delivery to the backyard?

Nope. Not an option, considering my mom shut off my credit card and I have no money. Never mind that it’s a ridiculous idea to even think about.

The truth is, I’m pretty much up shit creek unless I square my shoulders, put on a brave face, and deal with the cards dealt.

They want to get to know me . . .

I have reservations about that. Why? Because I don’t know how to act.

How does one pretend they don’t have trauma from feeling abandoned by my father? I had to convince myself I was a product of science just to deal. The truth is, I didn’t convince myself of shit. I knew deep down all along but refused to acknowledge it. If Mom couldn’t, why did I have to?

I know the day will come when I have to be an adult and talk to him, but getting to know my estranged father is not how I want to spend the remainder of my summer. I’ve chosen to ignore the huge elephant in the room, and despite him asking if we can talk, I’ve brushed him off every time he’s tried. I’m being a baby, and I know this, but right now, being in a new place, I need to protect my heart.

Before I can second-guess myself, I walk to the guesthouse door and peer outside.

Just go.

The main house is far away. It doesn’t even feel like I’m on the same property.

If they wanted, they could rent this out to someone and never see that person. Kind of like me hiding out, a renter could easily go unnoticed for months. It feels disconnected.

It’s a good thing and a bad thing.

Good, because I don’t have to be confronted by real life, real life being I’m living on the property of two people I only met days ago, and one of those people is my biological father, who I have no relationship with.

Yet.

That little girl in me whispers, making promises she has no business making.

Promises of hope.

Of happiness with a father that I get the chance to know.

Josie, put your big girl pants on and get out of here.

I have to go to the main house. I can’t stay hidden forever. I’ve been lucky. Although I’ve started working for the Saints, my father has been on summer break, but that will end soon. The team will be back, and I’ll have no choice but to be around him.

The problem is, seeing my father makes me feel sick. My whole life feels like a lie, and it has everything to do with my mom. Why did she refuse to tell me about him? Why didn’t he come for me? He obviously knew about me, so where has he been?

The fear that he’ll reject me again is something I can’t shake.

I’m sure it has everything to do with my feelings of lack and worthlessness, and a couple of days, and the fact he did eventually “come for me” doesn’t erase all those years.

I reach my hand out and turn the knob. Taking a deep breath, I push it open.

The grass crunches under my flip-flops, and I just hope the rain from earlier doesn’t prove to have hidden muddy puddles. That would be my luck, showing up for the first time covered in mud.

The only problem with the location of the guesthouse is there’s no path or driveway leading to it, so if it rains, you’re basically shit out of luck.

It takes me a minute to make it up to the main house, and when I do, I open the back door which leads to the mudroom, head moving back and forth around the area, searching for signs of life. I find none. It’s quiet.

Maybe I’ll avoid the awkward run-in after all.

Since my shoes aren’t wet, I head straight for the kitchen.

As soon as I step inside, I regret my decision to come here. I’m met with the dark brown eyes of the woman married to my biological father.

“Josie!” She smiles so broadly I wonder if her cheeks hurt.

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