Page 117 of Severed Rivalry
“I’ll work on it.”
“I’ll make you a deal, okay? I won’t make a stink if it’s not truly important.”
“I can do that too.” Her smile is small but kind. “This is all new to me.”
“I’m no expert. We’re older than we used to be. My pride used to… be different, I guess. I don’t think I was an ass, but I’m older now and don’t want to be my father. To anyone. Least of all you.” I amend quickly. “Or Renée.”
I pull into Rosie’s driveway. It’s eerie in its lifelessness. Not that it was brimming with it last time, but something feels off. I can’t put my finger on it.
“Does anything feel off to you?” I ask.
“Yes,” she whispers, as she squeezes my hand. “Let’s go.”
I throw it in reverse just as the curtains in the front window flicker.
I’m back out on Federal before she speaks. “Someone was there.”
Yes. There was definitely someone there. “Any idea who it could’ve been? Want to attempt your house?”
“I don’t know.” Her face is pale as if the movement in the window rocked her to her core. “And I don’t know.”
The last five weeks have been more than enough. Too much. Way too fucking much.
“How badly do you want Renée at school tomorrow?” I drive as if we’re being chased though no one follows. It’s as if shadows are dancing malevolently on the streets to taunt me.
“Not enough to risk her life. But enough that I’m willing to fight for it.” She slides in her seat until herback is on the door and she faces me. “I would never—hear me, Ci—never risk her for a point. But I lived in fear growing up. I lived in constant daily fear on the compound, where the rules and the threats hanging over my head were explicit and reinforced. I spent years in panic after I escaped at the mere thought of being dragged back or the consequences of them finding me. I do not want that for my daughter. Certainly not those kinds of consequences, but I don’t want her looking over her shoulder, living with dread or having anxiety at life. Life is hard. Worry is normal. Anxiety is not. I want real, normal life for her that isn’t a repeat of my own.”
“And that means business as usual?”
“It means I fight for her peace. I leave her to the horrors of pimples, bad hair days, and surging hormones while I take on the burden of any unnecessary apprehension where I can. My mother—” she spits the word, and I realize I’ve never heard her speak of biological parents. “Either couldn’t or wouldn’t do such a thing. She wanted us to fall in line and allowed that fear to be used as training.”
Us? How have I never asked? “You have siblings?” I ask as I loop onto C-470.
She shrugs. “Yes. Lots of them.”
I twist my neck to look at her.
“Cults aren’t mom, dad, and two point five kids. My biological mother had maybe nine when I left the first time. Another two by the time I returned. The women there make babies. Several men fathered them. So we’re all half-siblings with each other and we were all raised as a unit.”
My eyebrows dance at my hairline. “I never considered…”
“It wasn’t odd, because I had no concept of anything else. Randy and Rosie as two adults with technology and no kids. My mind was blown. Then I got out into the world and stayed that way until it was normal to me. You get why I want Renée to have normal?”
I nod as I exit toward my house, before doubling back toward hers.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m fighting myself between taking you home where I knowyou’re safe and not being a man who controls your actions and overrides your wishes. I was beat to shit by mobsters from Laos and taking those licks was easier than the back and forth in my head. Tell me what to do.”
A warm hand lands on my thigh as she twists to rights in her seat. “At least drive by the house. Let’s see how it looks. We’ll decide from there.”
At some point in my life, maybe I could have had an easy-going woman who did what I wanted, who had few opinions and was okay to have a man make decisions, maybe an uncomplicated life where things came easy.
At this moment, that sounds easier. I drop my palm to the one on my thigh and squeeze it. Looking at the woman to my right, I dismiss the very thought of an easy, compliant woman.
This one will challenge me and make me stronger. A woman who thinks critically and acts boldly from her heart… It won’t be easy, but it will be worth it. Easy is overrated.
“Why are you smiling?” she asks.
