Page 130 of Rebel Obsession

Vaughn tapped the steering wheel, then pointed dead ahead. “House at twelve o’clock.”

I just shook my head at their antics. “You two really gotta cut it out with the action movie wannabe shit. You’re giving me secondhand embarrassment.”

But I tucked the gun back into my purse anyway. It was ridiculous. But if it made the two of them feel better, then I would just make sure I had my purse on me at all times, so no small child could get a hold of it.

Vaughn parked the car just as the door to the house opened and Torrence walked out, a broad smile on his aging face, his hand in the air waving excitedly as he came to greet us. He stopped in front of me, beaming. “I’d really like to hug you, but I don’t know if that’s okay.”

He seemed so hopeful I couldn’t say no.

I nodded. “It’s okay.”

He acted as if I’d just handed him a winning lottery ticket, his grin wide. He wrapped his arms around me tightly and didn’t let go.

Eventually, I hugged him back.

“Sorry,” he said into my ear. “I know this is going on too long. It just reminds me of when you were a little girl.”

Tears welled in the backs of my eyes. There was something familiar about it for me too. It prodded at memories pushed deep into the back of my mind. I found myself saying words I hadn’t known I wanted to. “I wish you hadn’t left. I wanted a dad so bad.”

But what I meant was so much more. I wanted someone to be my parent. I wanted someone old enough and mature enough to tell me to be home by nine and to stay home and study because grades were actually important.

I wanted someone who gave a damn.

The realization hurt.

I loved my mother. But she’d been too young and immature and had no business raising a baby. She’d never been my parent. She’d never loved me more than she loved herself. She’d pushed away the only other person I might have ever had that from.

I didn’t want to be mad at a dead woman.

And yet, I was.

He clutched me tighter. “I screwed up, Bel. I screwed up a lot. Please let me try again. I know you’re too old to need a dad…”

Except I wasn’t. I was so damn love starved that I was in some sort of weird four-way relationship that made absolutely no sense. I had daddy issues out the wazoo, clearly.

Healing some of them might be a good start to getting my head on straight.

Inside Torrence’s farmhouse, the curtain slid aside, and three faces of varying heights peeped out through the second-story window. I waved my fingers at them, and they quickly dropped the curtain back into place.

Torrence hid a smile for his children. “I told them not to peep and to let you come inside in your own time, but they didn’t listen, did they?”

I stepped away from him, happiness settling over me at just seeing their faces for a moment. “No. There was definitely some peeping, but I can’t blame them for that. I’m curious about them too. Can we go inside?”

Torrence gestured toward the door. “Please. After you.”

I slung my purse strap over my shoulder and double-checked it was zipped up tight. Then strode up the front steps. I didn’t have to knock on the door. It opened before I could even raise my hand.

A woman who appeared to be in her fifties opened the door with a polite smile on her face. “Hello, Bel. I’m Sally-Ann. Your father’s wife.”

I stuck my hand out. “It’s Rebel, actually. Not Bel.” It was one thing for my father to call me that. He and my mother had given me that nickname. But I couldn’t bear to hear another woman say it.

She frowned. “Rebel. Well, that is an unusual name, isn’t it?”

Was it? I didn’t really think so, but okay.

We stood there staring at each other for a moment, until Torrence cleared his throat from behind me.

“Are you going to let us in, Sally-Ann? Or are we going to stand out here on the porch all day?”

---