Page 5 of Ringer's Freedom

“Sure did, baby. I got plenty.” She winks at me.

Nana knows about my little crush on Ringer. She thinks it’s all innocent. I know I’m young, but I also know it’s not just a crush.

Dad and Ringer are coming back towards Nana and I. Dad squats down next to Nana as Ringer holds his hand up for a high five from me.

“That was a sweet shot, Princess.”

I smile with a closed mouth and slap my small hand against his large, rough one as my belly erupts in butterflies. I have always been known as Princess. It’s been my nickname ever since I was born. But when it comes from him, it always feels so different.

I rub the dust off the photo and frame with the blanket on the bed and place it back down on the nightstand. I gave him the picture for his 21st birthday, thanking him for teaching me how to hit the target.

To this day, my dad still complains that he taught me how to shoot a gun, but never hit a target. Ringer did the first day he ever worked with me.

I strip the old sheets and blankets off the bed and walk down the hall to the closet where I know extra clean sheets will be. Taking new sheets to his room, I set about making his bed.

I quickly tidy his room, knowing I would want to come home to a clean space if I were in his position. I step into the small bathroom last, noticing it’s already pretty decent. Looking around his counter space, I see his bottle of cologne sitting there. I pick it up and my nose is immediately assaulted by the smell that is only Ringer.

I roll my eyes when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror smelling his cologne like a fucking stalker. Still to this day, at 23, thoughts of him bring me to my knees.

“Get it together, Lilah. It will never happen,” I sternly tell my reflection.

I put the bottle back down and pick up the dirty sheets. Locking the door behind me, I head back down the stairs to the kitchen. “I grabbed some clean sheets from the closet and took these off.” I place them down on the counter as Maggie smirks at me, knowingly.

“Alright, I’m gonna head out. I’ll see you on Saturday, Mag. We have a wedding that afternoon, so I wont be here til after three.” I give her a hug. I feel her lips against my ear when she whispers, “Your Nana told me how you used to be over that boy.” She pulls away and gives me a wink.

“That was a long time ago, Mag. He’s been gone a long time,” I say, hopefully not giving anything away.

“Mhm. See you Saturday.”

Sasha follows me out back and we hop in the truck. We drive the short distance from the club to my house in silence. When we pull into the driveway, I notice dad’s bike parked in the open garage with him laying on his side next to it.

Looking over at Sasha, I smirk as she notices him too. Her cheeks blush and she looks down at her feet.

“Come on, I won't embarrass you,” I say with a smile, nodding towards my dad.

We make our way up the driveway and into the garage. Dad sits up when he sees us standing over him.

“Hey, Daddy.” I hop up on the tool bench along the far wall. Sasha follows my lead and leans her hip against the bench next to me.

“Hey, baby girl. Hey, Sash.” Dad drops the wrench on the concrete with a loud clang as he stands up and brushes his hands on his jeans.

“Sasha went with me to the store. We got everything for the party. Just dropped it off.”

“I figured that when I got home and the truck was gone.” Dad turns towards Sasha. “You gonna come Saturday? See how our kind gets down?”

Sasha giggles. “Probably. Everyone’s been pretty convincing. I think I’ll stop by for a bit.”

“I’ll look for ya,” Dad replies. My eyes bug out towards Sasha as she smiles at her feet. I turn my look on Dad, and he shrugs his shoulders without an ounce of guilt.

Sasha looks up at me and my dad and smiles awkwardly. “Well, I better go. I have to let my dog out before his bladder explodes all over my house.”

“Bye, Sasha. See you in the morning.”

Dad watches Sasha leave, and keeps watching until we hear her car door shut.

I watch him with wonder. I’ve seen him with many women over the years. My dad is no saint. But every woman I’ve seen him with has been a hook up at the club. The only woman I’ve ever seen him be in a relationship with has been my mom, and for as long as I can remember, it wasn’t because he loved her. She just never fucking left.

“What?” He asks when he notices me watching him with a smile on my face.

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