Page 118 of Steel

“What is it, honey?”

“Need you all to come get Lyric from Heather’s. Shit happened and I gotta stay here to clean it up.”

“All right. We’re at the grocery store but leaving right now. Give us about ten minutes.”

“Thanks, Ma.”

“Always, my boy. Love you.”

I grunt as her words hit me. “Me too.”

Saying those three words have only come easy to me when it comes to my daughter. There’s always been this sort of filter when it’s anyone else.

Mom and Dad never seemed to mind, which I’m fucking thankful for.

After ending the call, I brush my hand over Lyric’s hair. “Be right back. Goin’ to check on your mom, Princess. I’ll leave the door open.”

“Okay, Dad,” she says quietly.

This has left a scar on my girl and that, more than anything, is something I’m never gonna forgive this woman for.

When I step back inside, Heather is struggling to sit up and holding her head with one hand while using the other to hold her balance on the couch cushion.

I lean against the doorjamb and watch her struggle. A better man would be helping her, but I’ve known I wasn’t a better man for a long fucking time. Should I feel bad? Should I have some empathy? Fucking probably, but I can’t and, more importantly, I don’t. This woman has put me and my kid through too much shit.

As far as I know, this is the first time she’s done this in front of Lyric, but it doesn’t fucking matter. It’s the last time.

Her head swivels around the room, and when her hands start to shake, she realizes something is very, very wrong.

Damn straight it is.

She must feel me watching her because her head jerks my way. Her hazy, dull eyes widen when she spots me looming in her doorway like I’m the devil himself.

Right now, I sure in the hell feel as if I am.

“Steel,” Heather whimpers.

“Heather.”

I don’t say anything else, letting the silence drag as she tries to find her way out of this fuckup she’s created.

Before walking over to her, I stick my head out the door to check on Lyric. My tension and fear eases when I see that my mom and dad are sitting with her.

I turn my head toward Heather and growl, “Stay.”

She blinks owlishly at me as if struggling to understand my words.

I don’t waste any more time on her ass, instead heading outside to meet up with my parents.

They climb to their feet when I make it to them, and Mom immediately wraps her arms around me. She only comes to my chin, so I rest it on the top of her head and then squeeze her tight.

“Ma,” I rumble.

Mom pulls away with a gentle pat to my arm. “You look exhausted, sweetie.”

“Fuckin’ am.”

Dad steps up, and we do a one-armed hug with a slap to the shoulder that conveys our love for each other, then he steps away.

---