Page 33 of Wick
"Hey, Pumpkin. You got a minute?" the tone in his voice concerns me. Carefully easing myself into an upright position, I lean my back against the headboard.
"Daddy, is everything okay?" My words cause Malik to sit up in bed as well. His face showing concern as I look at him with worry of my own.
"Uh, well." My dad draws out his words, and I picture him rubbing the back of his head. "You won't believe who is sitting in my living room on my couch at the moment."
I scrunch my forehead. "Who?"
"Georgia."
"Georgia?" I look at Malik and wait for the name to resonate with him, which only takes a second. "What is she doing there. Hell. What is she doing back in Texas?" I ask. Come to think of it; I haven't seen her since Damien died. Two months after his service, she up and left, moving to another state. The last time I spoke to her, she said she couldn't breathe in our hometown anymore. That the memory of my brother was etched on every surface around her, and it was suffocating her. "Daddy, are you still there?" I ask as silence looms between us.
"She's been here since Monday. She needs help, Pumpkin. She's in bad shape."
"Okay, so what does that have to do with us?" I huff.
"She's asking us to take her daughter."
"Daddy," I sigh. He has a big heart and is always trying to help others, but he's biting off more than he can chew with this case. "I think-."
"Vayda, she says the kid is Damien's."
It takes my brain a minute to catch up to what he said. Then I process his words a couple of times before responding. I roll my eyes. "Daddy, really? How old is this kid?" I start to get angry that she's taking advantage of his kind heart.
"Her name is Sydney, and she's eleven years old."
I do the math in my head, and if I were standing, Malik would be picking my ass up off the floor.
"Pumpkin. Come home." Something in the tone of his voice kicks my ass into gear.
"I'll see you in a few hours," I tell him.
He lets out a sigh of relief. "Thank you."
Before disconnecting the call, I tell him, "I love you, Daddy."
"I love you too, Pumpkin."
Placing my phone back on the nightstand, still in disbelief, I face Malik, and stare blankly at him. "Well?" he waits.
"Georgia showed up on my dad's doorstep, with a kid, claiming she is Damien's," I rush my words.
"Wait. Back up a bit. Georgia showed up after almost twelve years saying her kid is Damien's?"
"Yes," I confirm what I just said.
"Okay. Well, that's what DNA tests are for." He scrubs his palm down his face, trying to grasp the information. "Baby, you know there's a possibility she's telling the truth. He was eager to get back home because if memory serves me, she kept telling him she had a surprise for him."
I shake my head. "Why wait eleven years?"
"I don't know, babe. We don't know her story. That's something only she can answer."
"Malik. Daddy said she was in bad shape, and she wants my family to take her daughter." Getting out of bed, I cross the room and begin to peel my sleep clothes off, replacing them with black ripped jeans, and a loose shirt. Following my lead, Malik rises from the bed and throws some clothes on as well.
"He didn't say what he meant by bad shape?" Malik sits on the side of the bed and ties his boot laces. Standing, he strides across the room and plucks my boots off the floor. "Sit." He points to the bed, and I do as he says. Slipping my feet into my shoes, Malik squats and laces them for me. "We'll grab some coffee and something to eat before leaving town."
Even though I managed to walk up and down the stairs on my own for the past two days, Malik insists on helping me, holding me around my waist. "You don't have to hold me. I have the railing to hold onto." I roll my eyes.
"Zip it. I'm helping you, so get over it." His lip twitches when I narrow my eyes at him, but again, I keep my mouth shut.
