Page 5 of Ward Willing
“And I’m saying you don’t have to anymore.”
She looks away, and I watch her expression grow sullener by the second. She thinks she’s a burden, and she resents me for looking out for her. She may fight me on things, but I know she’s folding inward out of instinct.
So much like her father.
Over the years, I’ve tried to show her that she’s not a burden, nor would she ever be. That I care about her. And not out of obligation, either. I wasn’t obligated to send her care packages at her boarding school or give her an allowance. When it comes to Zoe, I’ve never feltobligatedto do anything. She’s my best friend’s daughter, and I want her to be happy.
I also want her to besafeand not make bad decisions.
That translates to me being stricter than her parents, but I’m doing the best I can with the resources I have. It’s not like I’m particularlygoodat being her guardian. It’s not like it comes naturally to me, at least with her.
Being the oldest of my four brothers gives me a bit of experience with taking care of others, but I can’t seem to get it right with her.
It doesn’t stop me from trying, though.
Zoe doesn’t move, breathing heavily as the rain causes her hair to stick to her face, so I don’t move, either. The stage sways in front of me, and I’m acutely aware of the fact that we’re suddenly alone, standing in the pouring rain.
Several moments pass as I try to regroup, try to organize my thoughts. But the tequila and beers and pot brownie have muddled my brain and cognitive thinking, so I blurt out the only thing I can think to say. The only thing that forms on the tip of my tongue. The truth that keeps me up at night, that makes me sick with the unknown.
The one thing I’ve been trying to tell her with my actions for three years.
“I need to take care of you. And I need you tolet me.”
She wraps her arms around herself as she blinks. “I don’t need to be taken care of. I’m an adult?—”
“Barely!” I shout, startling her. Before this trip, I’d never raised my voice with her. I never yelled or scolded her. I’ve never had to before. The image of that man’s hands on her ass, of her trying to push him away, sends a new surge of anger through me. “You seem toneedmy help,” I add, flicking my gaze to the dance floor.
“God, you’re so overbearing sometimes.”
“Because Ihaveto be. Because I promised your father that I would watch out for you.”
Zoe scoffs and looks off to the side. “He’s dead, Liam. That makes every promise you made dead too. And I’m telling you right now that I don’twantto be the burden you carry.”
My expression slides into a frown. “You’re not a burden, Zoe. You’ve never been a burden. I’m not sure how many times I can say it.”
“And I’m not sure I canletyou take care of me,” she replies, echoing my statement from earlier as her eyes find mine. “You can’t protect me from everything, Liam.”
“Icanprotect you from creepy older guys who get a little too handsy.”
“I happen to like older men,” she interjects with a defiant smile.
So.
Fucking.
Maddening.
I can’t align my thoughts in any coherent way. Not after that confession. Instead, they tumble down and scatter into the wind, sending something potent to sink deep down into my core. Everything is hot, and I instantly know this conversation is headed down a slippery fucking slope.
“I’m eighteen now,” she adds, crossing her arms and watching me with a defiant, little smile.
She must really fucking enjoy challenging me.
I involuntarily take a step closer. “Really, Zoe? You think my purview ends because you’ve been eighteen for a few months? You think I’m going to stop caring because of a date on your birth certificate?”
“No, I’m not saying that. I just don’t need you interfering in something that’s not your business.”
“Everything you do is my business,” I counter.
