Page 70 of Steel

I put the Bronco in drive and head toward my house at a speed that is safely allowed with my daughter in the vehicle. Anything to get this woman out and the fuck away from me.

When did it get to the point that I can’t even stand to be around my daughter’s mother? How the fuck are we supposed to co-parent if I can’t even be in the same vicinity as her without wanting to take bleach to my goddamn skin?

“Might as well let her stay here since she’s already passed out,” I say as I pull Lyric from her seat and into my arms once we make it to the house. “You should head on out.”

It probably would have been smarter if I stood there and made sure she climbed in her car to leave because then she wouldn’t have been able to corner me when I walk out of Lyric’s room.

Heather walks straight up to me and places her lips on mine. I freeze as familiarity rushes over me, but then her tongue pokes out and touches my lips, and disgust and anger roll in.

Jerking back, I shove her away. Probably harder than I should considering she teeters on her heels, but I can’t find it in me to give a single flying fuck right now. I lift my hand and swipe itacross my mouth, wiping away the grimy feel of her saliva as I fight back the nausea that threatens to erupt.

“Fuckin’ told you,” I growl. “Don’t ever fuckin’ touch me without permission. The fuck made you think I wanted your goddamn mouth on mine?”

“I’m sorry, Steel. I totally read you wrong,” she replies in a sweet voice that’s unfamiliar coming from her. “I thought we were getting along so well and then you smiled when I said we were a family, so I just thought this would be okay.”

A grimace is far from a happy smile. There was definitely no fucking smile from me when she mentioned anything about being a family because just the thought is horrifying. Lyric is the only thing from her that is my family. There’s nothing else from this woman that I want.

Maybe it’s time to let her know that.

Heather must read something on my face because before I can even open my mouth to start that conversation, her lips curl at the corners. “I’m going to head home. I want Lyric home tomorrow.”

I lift a brow, not saying anything because she knows damn well that I’ll bring my daughter home when I’m ready to. It’s been that way for the last six years, don’t know why it’d change now.

She lets out a huff and marches out the door, letting the screen door slam shut behind her.

Something changed with her since this morning. I noticed it when I got back in the Bronco after I stopped at the gas station, but I don’t have the fucking energy to have my brain figure it the fuck out. It’s not like I really give a shit.

Closing the door, I lock up and head to my room after checking in on Lyric. I want to grab a shower before I whip up some dinner for us, and I also want to give Bailee a call and let her know how much I appreciate her message this morning.

The hot water loosens the rigidness of my body, and I brace my arms against the shower wall as I let the water rain down, massaging my achy muscles while my mind drifts to everything that’s piling on my plate.

Killer and his club coming after Bailee. I’m pretty sure he’s been taking small hits at our fucking club too, I just haven’t been able to prove shit yet.

Crow and the fucking mess from his past. It’s getting vicious, and we’re beginning to lose people over it.

Bozo being fucking killed.

Then I got whatever bullshit that’s going on with Heather. Gut’s telling me she’s not clean, that she hasn’t ever been, but she’s just gotten better at hiding it. That or she’s staying clean when she’s around me. It’s probably why I’ve been having Lyric more than I used to. Not that I’m complaining. I’d move my girl in here tomorrow if I knew it’s what she wanted.

If I add in fighting whatever the hell I’m feeling for Bailee, it’s no wonder I’m fucking exhausted. A person is only supposed to go so long without food and water before they slowly wither away. Bailee, I’m slowly learning, is my food and water. She’s the main sustenance I need to breathe, but I keep fighting it.

When the water starts to cool, I wash up quickly and climb out, pulling on a pair of briefs, sweats, and a tank. Then I head into the kitchen to figure out what the hell I’m going to make for me and my girl for dinner.

As I search around, I grab my phone and try to give Bailee a call, scowling when it only rings once before going to voicemail. I shoot off a quick message to let her know to call me when she gets time so I can hear her voice. When it gets read but there’s no reply, I try to call again, only to get sent straight to voicemail.

She’s working, that’s why. She’ll call when she gets a chance. She always does.

I push it from my mind and continue with what I was doing.

My fridge is running low on ingredients, but I have eggs, mushrooms, tomatoes, and a bell pepper, so I grab those out, setting them on the counter. I dig through the pile of potatoes until I find the two biggest and set them with the rest of the stuff while I check the bread cabinet to see if I have a loaf left.

“Daddy?” Lyric’s sleepy voice calls as she pads into the kitchen.

She’s changed out of her romper and into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

“Hey, Princess. Looks like we’re havin’ breakfast for supper. Dad’s gonna have to hit the store tomorrow for some groceries or else we’re goin’ to end up starvin’.”

Lyric giggles, and I smile at the sound, never failing to fall in love with my daughter’s laugh every time I hear it.

---