Page 41 of Daddy Issues

“I’m a hot mess. But thanks.”

A fucking sexy one. I couldn’t help but watch the way her tight little ass bounced beneath the hem of the t-shirt as she walked to my kitchen.

I made coffee as she sat at the small table, tucking her legs underneath herself in a way that only someone that small could. Half the time, I wondered if the chairs would hold my big ass. Now I contemplated if they were sturdy enough for me to sit on one, with her on my lap, moving vigorously.

I put cream and sugar in hers, passed it down, then took mine black.

“You remembered?”

“You and my mom are the only other people ever to drink coffee in my house,” I pointed out, leaned against the counter, too antsy with her in my space after last night. “You could have kept the shirt.”

“Well, this morning I caught Nadine looking into my truck as she left for work. I’m sure she saw it, which will become an issue. Even bigger after last night and what Jester said to her. I don’t want to upset David. She makes everything…something and then I react and make it more. It just becomes—” Kenna flinched, picked up her coffee and took a sip. “I’m sorry. You don’t want to hear any of that shit.”

Actually, I did. Because Nadine needed to mind her own fucking business. “You don’t own me an apology. What did Jester say to her?”

“Thanks. The short of it, he told her to fuck off. She fucking sucks, so I figured I’d just bring your shirt back and cut off any shit she tries to start.”

Her head tilted because there was something else going on, I could tell. I’d known her too long. She was jumpy, like when she had something she needed to say but didn’t know how. I just needed to wait her out.

“Okay, that’s not entirely true. The shirt is an excuse. I could have texted, but I didn’t want things to be weird after last night. And I wanted to apologize for that, too.”

“What?” I blinked. “You’re apologizing for blowing my mind? Jesus Christ, Kenna.”

“You liked it? You don’t think I’m…”

“I…” I think you’re fucking amazing. But those words didn’t come. Fuck, she made my head spin. She was sexy as fuck, sitting there looking at me with those big eyes. “I fucking loved it.”

Another vehicle door shut and voices outside. Those I didn’t know, and then one I knew very well. Jessica’s sing-song, broken voice no longer excited me. It soured everything bright in my world. But it was the male voices with hers that had me setting the coffee down and grabbing the forty-five I kept above the fridge. The magazine was in a cabinet above the coffee pot. I had a kid; loaded weapons didn’t just lie around.

I loaded it, put one in the chamber, and shoved it into the back of my jeans. Kenna watched all of this, wide-eyed.

“Stay out of sight.”

Jessica was fidgeting nervously on my front door, wringing her hands together and focusing on the handle. Her eyes red and swollen. She didn’t want to be here. Someone had made her. As I opened the door, she scurried from the porch, down the steps, and right past her stepdad.

Last time I’d heard about Jerry Wayne, he’d been in prison. Should have stayed in longer, for what he’d done to those girls and their mother.

“Where’s my grandson at?” he asked with a bright, toothy smile.

“You got one of those?” He didn’t have kids of his own but liked to fuck around with his stepdaughters. Even if they didn’t want to.

Hatred for Jerry Wayne still flipped around in my chest. I despised what Jessica had become, the life she’d denied our son. But even she didn’t deserve to be standing behind that sick, twisted piece of white trash.

“Don’t play stupid, Kelly.”

Not my first name. Not my nickname. He denied me the respect of either. I stretched the fingers of my free hand to keep from making a fist and took a long, bored swallow of my coffee. When I played hockey, I learned if I got the first punch in, I’d win. Every time. Never let them know what was coming.

I might look like I was lazing on my front porch, but Jerry Wayne would be in the dirt before his bozo goons even noticed I’d hopped down the steps.

Jessica knew it and skittered even further to the back of the little pack. She’d never feared me like she did him, but she was damn sure afraid of the damage I could do to all of them.

“You got nothing here, Jerry Wayne, and never will.”

“Jessica’s got rights.” He sneered.

“Not anymore. She signed that shit over for five-grand worth of blow a few years ago. Ifshewants to seemyson, it goes through me. End of story.” I glanced at her. She wouldn’t even look at me. The fear wasn’t of me—I’d never hurt her. But she’d pay for this later, in one way or another.

I tried not to feel bad about that, but it made me sick.

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