Page 79 of Steel

My fingers clench around the steering wheel, and I gnash my teeth together to fight the maddened roar from escaping my chest at the confusion in her voice.

If I thought I was vexed with Heather for the shit she pulled with Bailee, it doesn’t have anything on the way my little girl’s confusion has me foaming at the motherfucking mouth because her mom is trying to play head games with her in a bid to get to me.

“Lyra, I have no clue why your mom is sayin’ those things ‘cause they ain’t true. Like you said, I don’t lie to you. I’m sorry she’s sayin’ stuff that confuses you, Princess. I’ll have a talk with her, okay?”

“No!” she cries out. “You can’t say anything, Daddy. She’ll be mad at me. I don’t like when Mommy is mad at me.”

I don’t fucking like it, but the panic is building on Lyric’s face, and I know she’s thinking of what happens if she loses her mom. So, instead of choosing to confront Heather later like I want, I nod.

“Then you got to promise me, if you’re unsure about anything else she tells you, you’ll call me.”

“‘Kay. I pinky promise,” she says solemnly, leaning as forward as her seat will allow and holding her hand out with her pinky extended.

Without taking my eyes off the road, I curl my arm behind the seat, stretch my pinky out, and hook it to hers.

“Where we going, Daddy?”

“I’ve got a friend I want you to meet. You think you’re up to that, Princess?”

She tilts her head. “Who is it?”

“Not someone you’ve met before. She’s actually a friend of your Aunt Em’s too.”

“Auntie Em knows her?” she asks excitedly.

I chuckle. “Yeah. She grew up with all of them.”

“Wow. Who is she? What’s she like? Is she pretty? Is she your girlfriend? Do you think she’ll like me? What about horror movies? Do you think she’ll watch them with me?”

She fires off the questions at a rapid pace, her body bouncing in her seat animatedly. Her cheeks are rosy with happiness and her eyes twinkle with excitement. Both are a much better sight than the fucking somber expression she was wearing moments ago.

This . . .

This is the shit I want to see on my daughter every fucking day. This is what I fight so hard for. This is what I always thought I was working toward when I was trying to make things work with Heather, not realizing I was doing the complete opposite.

“Slow down, Princess,” I say with a laugh. “Why don’t you wait and find all that out for yourself? Wouldn’t that be better?”

“Yes, so hurry now,” she demands.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Before long, we’re pulling around to the side of Sinful Saloon where Bailee’s apartment is. She’s not working today because I called Reva this morning and told her to put her off schedule. She wasn’t fucking happy about it, gave me lip, but I knew she’d do it because I’m her boss. It also helped that I told her I’d fucked up and needed to make it right with Bailee.

My Hummingbird thought she was going to be able to work through her pain without having to face it, but that’s not how this shit is going to go down. I’m fucking tired of us running from this shit. If it’s not me, it’s her. We’re going to face this shit together. She’s going to hear me out, let me explain what I wanted to yesterday, then let me make it up to her.

I fucked up. Not denying it. Then I took off when she told me to, after telling her this was why I didn’t do relationships. I’m a work in fucking progress, always gonna be, but I’m learning and adapting. My girl doesn’t have the best mom. She’s been watching the way I treat her and she’s gonna think that’s what she’s got to accept from a man. I don’t want that for her, so I gotta show her there’s better. To do that, I got to be better.

There’s only one woman I’ve ever considered doing that for.

Only one I’ve ever fuckingwantedto do that for.

I keep Lyric tucked tightly to me, observing our surroundings as I carry us to the apartment door.

The club is busy, but there doesn’t seem to be many stragglers loitering around outside. It’s prohibited, but it doesn’t stop some assholes who think they’re the exception to the rule.

Giving Bailee a chance to let us in before I decide to use my key, I knock and wait patiently for a few minutes before doing it again. “It’s me, Hummingbird.”

When she still doesn’t open, I flip through my keys until I get to hers and then slide it into the lock and let us in.

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