Page 12 of Always Be an Us

Her blonde hair is no longer in a ponytail. It's now in waves around her face, and her face is stripped of all makeup. Her skin has that sheen, like she was just swimming. She’s wearing just a t-shirt that shows off hints of her curvy form... She has shapely legs and dainty feet that remind me of a fairy.

I tell myself that I’m too mad to notice.

What kind of pervert notices how dainty a woman's feet are anyway?

You, that’s who.

I strike the thought from my mind as I cross my hands over my chest and level her with a withering stare.

"Do you know it’s kidnapping to take someone’s child without asking?"

"She didn’t take me, dad, I left on my own." Amelia points out. "And I’m also not a child."

"You’re not an adult either." I turn my glare to my daughter, but she only sticks up her chin and glares back unapologetically.

Brat.

"You left me first," she says. "What did you expect me to do? Sit in that hotel room and twiddle my thumbs for the whole day?"

"I expect you to not run off on your babysitter and turn off your phone. Do you have any idea how freaked out she was? She thought you had gotten kidnapped. We nearly called the police." And if not for the fact that I put a tracker in Amelia's necklace, I would have already alerted the police.

But I figured my daughter was probably pulling one of her little stunts again. She does it all the time, hence why I put a tracker on her phone. And in case she turns off that phone, like she did today, there's another tracker in her watch, her necklace, and a few other items of clothing.

"Whatever," she says. "I’m not a baby anyway. I don’t need a babysitter."

"You need something alright."

"Wait." The blonde woman interrupts, looking between the two of us with confusion stamped on her features. She points at me and addresses Amelia. "This is your dad?"

Amelia purses her lips, then reluctantly nods.

"I know," she says with an apologetic sigh as though she’s the one who has to deal with a misbehaving teenager.

"You should have called me when you found her," I tell the blonde.

She blinks at me. "How was I supposed to know you’re her dad? I don’t even know your name."

"Yeah right." Most people know my name, even those in the middle of a bumfuck Laketown.

She narrows her eyes. "I’m serious. All I know about you is that you’re incredibly picky with your burgers and are rude to match."

I narrow my eyes at her. Is she being for real or is this her schtick?

"Besides," she continues. "She told me that you knew she was here and you were okay with it."

"Okay with it? What parent would be okay with letting their thirteen-year-old roam around alone."

"Thirteen?" Her hand flutters to her throat and this time the shock in her eyes is too loud to be anything but honest. She turns back to Amelia. "You told me you were sixteen."

For the first time, my daughter blushes and actually looks slightly ashamed of her actions.

Still, it’s irritating that it’s the blonde woman who made her feel like that and not me.

"That’s why you’re supposed to call the cops when you come across a solo minor," I say. "Or at the very least, you should have called her guardians and ensured that she really does have permission to be where she is."

"Alright I get it," the blonde says, holding up her hands. "You don’t have to keep going on. I made a mistake, but I truly just believed what she said."

"I’ll keep going on if I damn well want to," I growl, but she doesn't stand down.

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