Page 75 of Vows in Sin
I looked everywhere for her last night, realizing too late if Tabitha didn’t want to be found, she wouldn’t be. After a fitful sleep, daring myself to make it through the night without going to Seraphina, dawn came.
A pair of ripped jeans and two cups of strong coffee later, and I’m standing by a tent pole, watching Tabitha work while she pretends I’m not here.
Budgie lies on a temporary medical bed, covered in a white sheet, his legs far too long, hanging off the end. He’s got a cut over his eye. Tabitha’s dabbing the area with something pungent.
I move closer till I’m standing over her. A massive shadow that’s going to haunt her until we fix things between us. I won’t let this drag on longer than it needs to. “Baby, we need to talk.”
She won’t look up at me. “Dad, I’m sorry. I can’t talk right now.”
“I’ll wait.” I’m not going anywhere.
She shoots me a killer glance. “Have it your way.”
One trait we share—stubborn as shite.
I sink onto an overturned crate beside Budgie. “How you doin’, man?”
“Good.” He reaches over slowly and carefully, giving me a bump.
“Don’t move once I start sewing, Parrot Man. Or you’re going to end up a pirate with one eye and a patch.”
Budgie and I share a grin.
Tabitha gets down to business, making neat rows of stitches over Budgie’s eyebrow with her gloved hands. She works in a stony silence, her gentle, precise motions a vast contrast to the stony set of her jaw. I sit watching her. Budgie is watching both of us.
Tabitha puts the needle away, reaching for a small tube that looks like superglue.
Budgie’s wide eyes look from me to her. Then back to me. “I can go, Boss. We can do this later.” He goes to sit up.
“Do not move.” She pushes down his big shoulder with one hand. “I’m the boss under this tent. And I’m not done with you.”
I can’t help the pride that comes up, watching my beautiful girl handle a 300-pound man as easily as she’s closing a book. “You’d best do what she says, man.”
“Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it, Boss?”
“She’s the tree. I’m lucky enough to be her roots.”
“Damn,” Budgie shakes his head. “That’s some poetry.”
That earns me a hefty sigh from my daughter. “Seriously. We can talk when I finish my shift.”
Unsure of how far the Morrettis reach, no one wants to leave the estate or trust anyone to come in, making Tabitha and the others in the family with medical training our doctors. The tent is packed.
“Shift?” I glance around. “You came in last night at what? Two in the morning.”
Her hands drop to her lap, pausing her work only long enough to lock eyes with me for a beat. “Yeah. I did. Didn’t I? Took a break for dinner, then went right back to work. And when I finished, I came to your room. To let you know I was back. So you wouldn’t worry.”
Prickly, uncomfortable heat creeps up my neck. I’ve set my own trap and clamped my damn foot in my mouth. I run a hand over my beard.
Her voice shifts to Budgie, asking him, “And guess what I found when I got there, Pirate?”
Budgie shifts in the cot. “Your best friend?”
Her brows fly sky high, her mouth gaping. “You too? My god, is there anyone who doesn’t know about this!”
Budgie clicks his tongue against his teeth. “It’s the Bachman way. Gossip travels faster than the jet that got us here.”
“But how?” Tabitha asks Budgie. “I haven’t told anyone. I came straight to the tent to sleep.”
