Page 11 of Look how well You take this C*ck

“I know you won’t on purpose. Girls are different than guys, though. She’s not going to want to talk about it or be teased about anything. Ellie will want it to stay between her and me.” He nods this time, more serious. “I need you to be scarce for a couple of hours this afternoon. There’s some things I need to talk to her about, and I think it will go better if it’s just us.”

“Like what?” I knew he’d ask.

“Her past mostly. I believe she was woefully left in the dark about what happened to her mother. I need to tell her the truth. I also need to know exactly what went on in foster care last time and what she’s had to endure at the hands of her father.”

How anyone could harm someone as sweet and innocent as Ellie still baffles me. The old hurt is always a memory away, though, and I want to help her heal from it.

“Sure, Dad. I’ll bring burgers home for dinner?” I agree to his offer just as the doorbell rings. “I got it,” he says, and he’s gone less than a minute when I hear her voice.

My ex-wife.

Kyla is fucking crazy, and we didn’t last a year before I divorced her and fought a long and expensive custody battle for our child, Damon–she was still pregnant at the time.

“It’s not a good time, Kyla,” I say when I hear her shoes clacking as she enters the house. Damon tolerates her, but he has a hard time slamming the door in her face like I do.

“You always say that, darling.” Her syrupy-sweet voice alerts me that something’s up.

“Whatever you want is a no.”

I stopped giving in to her when Damon was around twelve. She always tried to use him against me until the court ruled that he was old enough and mature enough to decide who he wanted to live with. She couldn’t fight me in court anymore, so I stopped saying yes to her requests unless it dealt with her seeing Damon.

In the six years since he chose to live with me full time and had a say about when he saw her, she’s taken him for no longer than a few hours a handful of times. As he’s gotten older, he sees her less and less because even he is sick of her manipulation and immaturity.

“I just need a few thousand dollars,” she says, like she’s asking me about the weather.

“No.” I stopped asking what she needed money for years ago.

“Come on, Lars, you owe me–”

Damon enters the kitchen. That’s why she cut off what she was about to say. Sadly, I know it would be about Damon and how she didn’t take me back to court.

“He said no,” Damon grits out.

Interesting. My son doesn’t typically get involved with our arguments.

“Now, sweetheart, you know better than to get in the adults' business.” Her patronizing tone doesn’t go over well with the boy.

“Adults? Where? All I see is Dad.” The snap in his tone makes me proud.

A year ago, I would have spouted off at him to respect his mother. He’s eighteen now, and while technically an adult, it’s not why I don’t. Damon has shown extreme maturity in the last few months, and I grant him leeway when it’s called for.

“Lars!” Kyla looks to me for help.

I throw up my hands in exasperation. “You heard my answer, then got patronizing with your son. I don’t know what you expected from me, Kyla, but it’s not happening, and treating Damon with anything less than respect in my presence won’t fly.”

Her face turns an ugly shade of red with anger. “You’ve turned him against me. All these years, he’s grown to hate me because of you!”

The shouting did what I had hoped it wouldn’t and brought Ellie downstairs. And as much as I want to go to her, I know I can’t. Not at this moment, because if I do, Kyla will fly off the handle and cause more damage. Thankfully, Damon notices her seconds before Kyla and moves to intercept the younger woman from coming to me. I recognize confusion on her face as Damon wraps an arm around her waist and gets closer than usual while whispering something in her ear. She pales but holds it together.

“Who is this?” Kyla eyes her up and down, criticizing her slightly disheveled hair and loose-fitting shirt, scowling at the forest green leggings that make me want to rip them off her body.

“Mom, this is Ellie. Ellie, this is my mom, Kyla.” Damon’s jaw clenches so hard I worry he might crack a tooth.

Plating the breakfast that was already in progress, I cut the omelet in half and hand them two forks. I fucking know what Kyla is thinking right now. That Ellie belongs to my son.

I hate even more what Ellie must be thinking. That I’m blowing her off.

I’m not.

---