Page 42 of Outlaws of Tulsa

Fuck.

She turns just her head and looks at me. Sad and broken and ashamed. Goddammit.

Blaire.

Blaire.

Not Blaire.

“Hadley,” I grind out to remind myself this girl isn’t my daughter.

Her face crumples as she bursts into tears. Everything in me screams to run away from her. And yet, I go right into the role of daddy.

“Oh, honey, come here.”

She throws herself into my arms, clinging to my soaked clothes. I kiss her hair and whisper apologies. I fucked up. I spanked her too hard. Too many times. And then I’d gotten aroused over it. I’m a fucking mess.

I shut off the water and walk her out of the shower. Quickly I grab a large towel to wrap her up in. I kiss the top of her head before stripping out of my cut and shirt. Her eyes are lowered and tears continue to fall. Since she’s not looking, I peel off the rest of my clothes and stride naked into my bedroom. I throw on some sweats and grab a T-shirt for her. She’s still in the same spot I left her. Shivering and feeling sorry for herself.

Tugging the towel away, I bare her to me so I can pull the shirt over her head. It falls all the way down to her knees. It makes her look so young. So helpless. Like she’s a little girl, I scoop her into my arms.

My bed is huge.

But no one has ever been in it but me.

I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t fuck from time to time to release tension, but I don’t form any bonds or connections with the opposite sex. The pain from losing my wife is still raw as fuck. No one’s been in this bed.

And yet I climb onto it, setting Hadley right in the middle. She seems so small. So lost. So fucking lonely. It makes me want to wrap myself around her and keep her safe. I know it’s fucked up. I know I’m projecting my daughter onto her, but for the life of me, I can’t bring it in me to care.

“Let’s get you warm.” My voice is low and gravelly.

She slides her long, slender legs under the covers and cuts her eyes my way. Gone is the taunting, sassy girl. This one isvulnerable and scared. I get beneath the blankets with her and tug them up over us.

I pull her against my chest, toying with her hair. Neither of us speaks. She tangles her leg between mine. Holding her feels natural. It did that first night at Animal’s. And last night too. Right now, it soothes my battered soul.

“Rest, baby girl.”

I wake to thrashing.

Crying and begging.

“Daddy.”

My heart races in my chest. I reach for her in the dark, brushing my fingers through her sweaty hair.

“Shh, I’m here.”

She seems to relax at my voice, the nightmares chased away. I stroke her hair from her face and run my thumb along her silky skin. Leaning down, I kiss her. Softly. On her cheek. Once on her lips. On her nose. She lets out a soft sigh.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” she whispers. “Sorry.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“You’re safe now.”

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