Page 76 of Promiscuous Lies

We pull up to a building, and the first thing I notice is the van that delivered the bouncy house. Only one other car is parked in the lot. Dutton gets out and unbuckles Bentley from his car seat before I can even open my door. As soon as Bentley is set free, he jumps out of the car and runs straight to Dawson, where he waits at the door with a huge grin.

“Good to see you again, Bentley.” Dawson laughs as Bentley’s little hands wrap around his legs in a big hug. My heart twists at Bentley's immediate attachment to him, and I wonder if Bentley might’ve been like this with my father. I try to bury those sad thoughts.

“I was asking when we can hang out,” Bentley says as Dutton and I follow them side by side.

Dawson looks over his shoulder at me and says, “It’s good to see you again, Posie.”

“You too,” I reply with an awkward smile because the situation feels far too intimate and not like the sex-only arrangement Dutton and I were supposed to stick to. But him putting together my bed yesterday wasn’t about sex either. Which reminds me…

I bite my bottom lip, wondering if I should show Dawson the photo I took of Dutton sitting amongst the pieces of my bedframe because I’m positive he’d laugh at it as much as I did.

“Can we go and jump?” Bentley is already hurriedly taking his shoes off.

“Of course. That’s why we got it,” Dawson says as he removes his shiny shoes and then holds his hand out for Bentley.

My eyebrows shoot into my hairline. “Your dad likes to jump?” I ask Dutton, confused, as he pulls out two chairs. The building is empty, and I wonder what type of business Dawson intends to put in here.

“Yes. He actually hated kids, and they’re just drawn to him. But the moment he had his own kids, he was a goner. He was hands-on, especially when we were little. He would do all types of things with us. I wonder if it’s because he never got to enjoy them as a kid that he wanted to provide us with as much as possible.”

I side-eye him. Dutton had mentioned his father having secrets from his past, and it’s not my place to ask, so instead, I say with a sad smile, “My parents were the same. They loved taking me places, and my father was probably the worst. He’d always use me as an excuse to go onto all the rides he wanted to go on whenever we went to the fair.” I laugh, thinking about when I was ten years old and didn’t want to go on a particular ride. I told him that if he wanted to go on it, he’d have to go alone. He didn’t.

Dawson jumps, and Bentley bounces higher, squealing with excitement.

“Sometimes, I think my dad wanted a son. He tried to show me how to fish and things like that, but I didn’t have much interest in them. I didn’t like the dolls my mother bought me either. I just liked artsy stuff,” I say, remembering how I’d entertain myself in my room for hours.

Quietly, Dutton says, “You don’t talk about them much.”

“They died, and then I had no one. I suppose I don’t like digging into the past.” Look where it got me in Boston when Itried to pay my respects. Even though I don’t say it out loud, I think Dutton understands as he studies me.

“Now you have Bentley.”

I turn to face him with a smile. “Yes, now I have Bentley.”

Dutton clears his throat.

“Who is his father, Posie?” I’m surprised he’s asking again.

“Why do you care so much?”

I’m confident giving him the name wouldn’t be a good thing like it’ll manifest Bobbi onto my doorstep the very next day. There’s a reason why I left him off Bentley’s birth certificate.

“Because I saw how frightened you were when you spoke to Striker. I can protect you both.” He sounds so earnest.

I swallow, a tendril of emotion sapping the fight out of me how I want to lean into this man. How I want to believe what he’s saying. And the terrifying thing is that I do believe him. But when will the novelty of all of this end for him? I’ve fought hard to get Bentley and me here, and I want it to be enough. I want to have done enough to get us far away from that life. Even if I am scared of his father, I don’t want to admit that to anyone. I want to push past that version of me.

“We don’t need protection,” I say, feeling that sense of fear closing in because if Dutton thinks Bobbi might come looking for us, then he most likely will.

“I would kill him for you.” He says it without flinching. And this isn’t the first time he’s offered.

I sigh, looking at the killer beside me again. How do I feel so safe beside this man who can so easily dispose of anyone?

With a sense of defeat, I admit, “I don’t want to take away Bentley’s choice to know his father someday if that’s what he wants.” His eyebrows furrow in confusion because how could he understand? He doesn’t have a child to protect, and he doesn’t know what it’s like to lose a parent.

“I always promised myself that when Bentley was old enough, if he wanted to know about his father, I’d tell him. If he wanted to find him, I’d let him. I don’t want to be the reason why he can’t see him. And I know the moment I give you his name, you’ll take both Bentley’s and my choice away.”

“He doesn’t seem like much of a father to me if he has nothing to do with his son,” Dutton states. I look over to Dawson and Bentley as they continue to bounce and laugh.

“I don’t entirely disagree with you. But, please. Going after Bobbi will only cause more bloodshed.”

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