Page 29 of Steel

I hear Lyric singing as Heather’s words fly around in my head. I don’t want to entertain her idea, but doesn’t my girl deserve to have both her parents with her every day? Doesn’t she deserve to have a whole family instead of this broken one?

“Please? For Lyric?” Heather begs.

It’s the small hint of triumph in her voice that has those stupid fucking notions screeching to a halt.

I’ve been down this road with her so many damn times.

Too many, honestly.

But my girl does deserve to have a mother who is clean. So, if manipulating Heather gets that for her, then I’ll do whatever I have to in order to secure her sobriety.

And even though it’ll never happen, I still find myself saying, “You get clean for good, I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you,” she breathes, wrapping her arms around me.

There’s a part of me that does give a shit about her as the mother of my daughter, and I did give her seven years of my life, so I wrap my arms around her and give her the human touch I know she craves.

“I’m ready, Daddy,” Lyric says, pulling me and Heather apart.

I grab her bag and ruffle her hair, chuckling when she jerks away with a scowl. “Give your mom love, kiddo, so we can hit the road.”

I waste a few minutes trying to untangle from Heather when she hugs me goodbye, but soon, we’re on our way.

“Music,” my little princess demands.

Laughing, I put on some old rock so she can jam out.

Lyric is her father’s daughter.

For the next fifteen minutes, we sing along with each song, carrying on our own private rock concert.

Every time I glance in the rear-view, my girl is bobbing her head, her feet dancing to the rhythm as she belts out the lyrics she knows by heart. Turns out I named my daughter well.

Fuck.

Did my life even matter before she was born? Because it doesn’t seem like it.

No, I’m pretty sure my life truly began when my daughter came into this world screaming her lungs out.

It’s not been perfect. Hell, most of it was fucked-up beyond recognition, but every single second with Lyric is one I would never change.

“Hey, Daddy?”

I peer into the rear-view mirror, and she’s staring at me with her lip caught between her teeth. Reaching over, I lower the volume of the radio.

“Yes, Lyra?”

“Are you and Mommy getting back together?”

“That what you want?” When she glances down at her lap and then back to me, I understand that she’s terrified to give me honesty. “Look at me, Princess. Always speak your mind with me. You want Mom and me to get back together?”

“No, Daddy. I don’t think I do. I love you and Mommy, but I don’t know if I want to live with her anymore.”

I wait until we’re inside the house before I answer her. Taking a seat on the couch, I pat the spot beside me. “Come here, Lyric.” I make sure to keep my voice gentle so she understands that she’s not in trouble.

She sits and folds her hands in her lap but keeps her eyes on mine.

I fucking hate that her pretty green eyes hold such defeat. What the fuck is going on over there?

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