Page 126 of Daddy Sees Snakes

"She'll come back," Jaxon shrugs.

"Will she? She's eighteen. What's stopping her from running away?" I hiss, and the realization that my daughter is gone hits. "Jesus Christ. She's never coming back. Is she?"

"If she does, we'll let you know," Jaxon says.

"She doesn't want me. And, after the way I've treated her, who could blame her?" I mutter, running my hands through my hair. "Fuck. I'm no good for her."

"You're her father. Of course, she does. But, she needs some time. Listen, talk to her. She'll come around," Jaxon says, pattingme on the back. "I'll keep an eye out. If I see her, I'll let you know."

"Okay," I sigh.

"It's going to be okay," Jaxon nods.

"Is it? Nothing's ever been right since the day she was born. Every single thing I've done, it's all been wrong," I sigh.

"Go home," Jaxon says, pushing me away from the club. "I'll take care of things."

I nod, and the weight of the world is on my shoulders. I walk to the bar first, spotting Rosa working.

"Hey, Rosa. Have you seen Iris tonight?" I ask.

"Not yet. Why?"

"I wanted to talk to her," I say.

"Well, good luck. I haven't seen her all night," Rosa says, and the look in her eyes makes my skin crawl.

"Rosa. What's wrong?" I ask.

"Nothing. Look, go talk to your daughter. She's coming around too much lately. The girls are worried about her," Rosa says, and when her eyes meet mine, her expression darkens.

"Allegra won't be a problem," I mutter, and the words make my stomach turn.

"Good. Then, you have no reason to be here. I have work," Rosa says, and without a second thought, I'm outside.

I can't face Iris tonight.

Not like this.

Not with the guilt.

Not when the shame is almost too much to handle.

The second I'm behind the wheel, I pull out my phone, and before I can think, I'm dialing.

"Dad. Hey," Allegra says, and the sound of her voice breaks my heart.

"Hey. Can we talk?"

"What is there to talk about?"

"Us. Everything. Where are you? Come home," I beg.

"It's not home, not anymore. It's a prison," Allegra hisses, and before she can say another word, the call goes dead.

"Fuck," I hiss, tossing my phone onto the seat. I try calling her again, but the call goes to voicemail, and after the fourth try, I know it's hopeless. The house is silent when I walk inside, and the emptiness is almost too much to bear.

As I'm standing by the window, a text comes through, and the second I read the message, the breath leaves my lungs.

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